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Birched And Spanked, A Headboy's Demands

I had taken the rumors seriously and why not? They were coming from staff was well as my own colleagues, whom as much as I wanted to believe all of my good chums, mates and fellow senior prefects, they might be a bit biased. And not that I wasn't. I thought I would make a dandy Headboy, just not with Headmaster Jamison in control. He was old, tottering and had passed by the abilities I needed to have him have, especially after this past year.

It had been horrid, at least in my eyes. The old man was a dear soul but far past being able to put a boy properly in his place with a cane. He could barely wield a hairbrush, his hands were otherwise useless and shoulders unable to sling a tawse any harder than to barely touch a boy's bare bum much less cause any pain. What was the use of it? By school charter, it was only the Headmaster that could punish the Headboy.

You would think that if I were chosen, I would be ecstatic that the old man was nearly useless as a disciplinarian and you would be wrong. After four long years of being "trained" to appreciate the usefulness and now the pleasure of a sound hiding from all available punishment devices, I would not be denied my rights to be hided by an authority that I respected and more even. Yes more. I'm sorry but I grew up with boys, all boys at all times and frankly, I liked it. I liked it lot in fact and learned to appreciate all ages of boys to men. Well, all except those who could not meet my needs. I could pay Headmaster Jamison his dues, but not as his Headboy.

Enter Mr.Wayne McPherson the college's very young Physical Training Instructor or PTI; fierce, able, physically fit, fair and very demanding. Everyone feared his tawse, and theoretically, everyone was frightened to death of his birching rods which had fallen onto hard times, thanks once again to Headmaster Jamison. Only the Headboy could be birched and Jamison was known to loath the practice. Good for him and for anyone who did not wish to befall the birching sticks. That was not I.

Call me what you will but there was the rub. I had become an addict to the effects of corporal punishment. There, I said it. I meant it. I would not become Headboy without having the constant threat of the birching rods to salve the beast that my school, Barrenford Boys Academy, had bred within me. Yes, it did. Maybe I would have turned out that way anyway but I would never know, now would I? So, there we have the problem and maybe the solution as well.

So I boldly one evening went to visit Mr. McPherson in his office in the gymnasium when he was about ready to leave for his cottage home on the campus. A Scotsman, I found the 30 something year old man well, quite attractive. Maybe that was it. Maybe he was my goal, I don't bloody know. All I know is that I needed his advice.

"Mr. Collison, what can I do for you," He said with his usual unexcitable tone. Nothing much excited McPherson too much, and nothing got him down too much either. I admired that a lot.

"I have a problem Mr. McPherson. As you know, Headmaster will soon choose the new Headboy. Everyone says it will be me. I know I'm being premature, but I need to know that if I am chosen that certain demands of mine could be met."

His reddish eyebrows raised. I was sounding like an idiot to him, I was sure. I liked that because what I had to say to him would shock him mightily, yes, even the unshockable McPherson might be finally taken aback.

"You had better have a seat and I as well Collison. So, demands? I've never heard of such a thing, especially from a boy who sounds very presumptuous and haughty."

I liked that as well, being called those things by him. They were characteristics that McPherson loathed and would easily punish a boy's bare bottom for, and once McPherson got a hold of your bare arse, you were in for it. I knew, I had taken his tawse in small amounts. We sat, "Go on then, let's hear it then."

"If I am chosen sir, I want, no, I demand to be given, at least a once per month full birching over the caning horse in the equipment room down the hall."

That was where McPherson and certain other staff conducted some canings of boys. It was where birchings were supposed to be carried out, but had not any time recently. I went on. McPherson's eyebrows had never jutted up higher I thought, not in my recollection.

"Further, I shall reserve the right to ask for and receive more birchings during the month if I want them. I might change that to caning as well and each session will be attended after one hour's rest by a hard and thorough spanking over the bircher's knees in the same room or elsewhere."

By just voicing my demands, my cock hardened in my trousers, a fact that used to embarrass me. Well, it still did but was also now attended by a stubbornness of purpose. Once again, this place had made me like this and by golly they were going to carry it through to the bitter end if I had any say about it.

McPherson looked at me. I knew I had impressed him either with my apparent insanity or maybe by my cheeky boldness the latter of which might gain me a demonstration of his abilities with birch or cane. In either case, I felt the victor.

"Well Collison, you are either mad or a genius. I must say,you've come to me with these these demands, why me?"

"You've the skills and power sir. You're the only one who can birch and has that ability. I've never taken more than six of your tawse and those were very painful indeed. I can only imagine a dozen and your ability to spank a boy, over his birched bottom would make a huge impression on the strongest of us boys, of which I am one."

And my cock hardened even more, so much so I had to shift myself. I know he saw my arousal or suspected it. I wondered if that would kill the deal or maybe even, make it somehow more attractive to him. I hoped for the latter. He finally cracked an inscrutable smile,

"Mr. Collison, in the first place, though you are a senior of 18 years and a respected prefect, you still simply are but a Barrenford boy and subject to discipline at any point in time. I should take your pants down right now, put you over my horse and tan your hide with birch or tawse until it pleases me to stop for your impertinence or thinking that I am gullible. I am not. On the other hand, neither am I naïve. Let's wait, shall we, until the decision is handed down and then I will make my decision. I take it that you are soliciting my my services should Jamison chose you as Headboy?"

I smiled, firstly for the quality of his stern tone and secondly at his delicious threat. I loved his threat, it excited me. I wanted him to carry it out even then but would never suggest it. He would have to demand it of me. In any case, he understood.

"Yes sir, I am."

He nodded, "Very well, until such time then, you are dismissed."

I got up, my tenting very obvious now. I turned and strode towards the door making no attempt to hide my erection from him. He stopped me,

"Oh and Collision, should you not be chosen? You will come back here within 24 hours nonetheless and I will give you a full dozen of the tawse along with a spanking after, you've earned at least that much."

I turned, "Yes sir" I said simply and noted an ever so slight grin on his face.

* * * * * * * * * *

Jamison's announcement at supper with McPherson and the whole staff and student body present surprised nobody. I stood and gave a grand speech that even I was impressed with. There were cheers from my fellow prefects and I would be grandly congratulated and I am sure hazed by my prefect mates in traditional ways. There would be good natured smacks in the showers, an offering of a caning stripe or three here and there but that's not what I was interested in, was it? No. But in fact, McPherson beat me to it, good for him actually.

On my way out of the school's mess hall, he took me aside,

"Congratulations Collison and I have my decision for you. Show up in P.T. kit in the caning room in the gym after you tuck your children in, have one of the other prefects alerted to your need to be away from your House for several hours, you'll need it."

"Yes sir," I said and my groin growled with great pleasure though my brain wondered what kind of Pandora's Box I had opened.

I had asked Wallace Handley to watch over my boys. When he saw me dressed in my P.T. kit and heading out the door, he didn't say a thing except, "Good luck" with a knowing grin. I was an open book to my mates, they knew that. I had no worries with them. They were just as excited about my new post as I was, after all, now they had someone to confidently come to make similar requests of me as I had of McPherson.

In any case, the front of my kit was bursting with excitement as I marched myself to the gymnasium through the darkness. Every step brought me closer and more anxiety. I was actually fearful and knew that was smart. If McPherson's birchings were anything close to his tawse abilities, I was in for a lot of pain indeed. Could I really handle it? How would it really affect me? And the spanking after? I really didn't know. Had I crossed that barrier from fantasy to reality and might be disappointed? Perhaps.

At any rate, I entered the gymnasium. I saw a light on in McPherson's office, but he was not there. That meant he was down in "the room," the place where punishment was an art form, a medieval throwback as it were. It was a place that you feared and loathed, not loved and cherished. My trouble was, I was caught dead even between both. I decided that my erection would not be an issue. He would either punish me harder to get rid of it or maybe he would use it against me somehow. I hoped for the latter that the session would be more than just sticks and leather between the two of us. At any rate I knocked on the closed door. He answered quickly, "Come in!

My heart danced and raced with more excitement. I opened the door, walked in and closed the door quickly as if not to let in any more of the outside world into the acrid rarefied air than needed and then the smell hit me, disinfectant. There were the birching rods in the bucket and there he was in sweat pants, bare-chested otherwise. Oh my god! I felt my cock jump forward hard against the restraints of my white gym shorts.

"Welcome Mr.Collison, or should I say, Headboy Collision."

"Thank you sir," I said.

"Here are the rules. From this point forward and for your entire year, you will meet me here at this hour every first Thursday evening of every month in clean P.T. kit. You will be birched, twelve strokes, no more, no less. You will stand at the wall after, hands on head until your arms ache too much to do more, then you make your way over my knees and I will spank your birched bottom regardless of the pain and welts still there until I am satisfied that you are spanked well enough. In exchange for that I will do anything else you wish in between, starting the moment that the spanking ends, anything Collison and until the next session the next month. All you have to do is be bold enough to ask and man enough to do it without whining about it or complaining, are we clear?"

"Yes sir and Headmaster Jamison is never to know."

"Headmaster Jamison is indeed, never to know," he agreed.

I waited for a command, "Strip naked, completely now" he said and that pleased me.

I saw a chair and made great theater about taking off each garment no matter how small and neatly folding it onto the chair. I was creating a new ritual and I think it pleased him because then I stood hands at my sides and did not try to hide my bold erection.

He smiled thinly, reached into the bucket and obtained the fresh birching rods for my correction. He swished them and looked at them and took his time. I was fascinated and fearful. The way he handled them expertly made my skin crawl, but my dick twitched and become moist at the tip. I knew he was doing all that on purpose to add to what I had started. I could appreciate that.

"Step forward Mr. Collison, over the horse please" he said holding the rods dispassionately.

I stepped forward nuts with equal parts of lust and fear for what I was doing with my body, putting it in this man's hands as I was. I lay over the horse keeping McPherson's need to have my bare arse just so for my beating or as I termed it, my preventative punishment. I guessed that I had positioned well, for then I heard two swishes through the air, then he brought the rods and lightly tapped my bare buttocks, drew back and struck me.

The pain shocked me and surprised me by the way you could not hear it coming, the strike seeming harmless and then my arse lit up like a bomb. There were fifteen second intervals to let the pain grow and then the next strike. I had thought I had made the wrong decision until by strike five, I found the pace of it. It hurt like hell but I wanted it and knew that and that's when my cock, having deflated by the initial shock grew hard again under my belly rubbing into the hard leather.

By strike eight, I was a true believer and convert. The strikes were awful but my cock disagreed with me. Suddenly, after strike ten, I shuddered hard, very hard. McPherson paused as my body racked harder than it ever had with an orgasm from heaven. I was soaking the leather underneath me with both sweat and with my semen. The post-orgasmic birching strikes were now doubly awful and I just knew what I would be required to do in the future and it made me just as happy.

The first part of the session was now done, I was well punished and felt so.

"You may get up Mr. Collison, well done lad, now onto the wall as we agreed."

I got up slowly and saw the white pasty puddle and smiled to myself. He said nothing about as I went to the wall, but I noticed he did wipe it down with a white rag seemingly unconcerned. My buttocks felt flayed and burning and I was proud of them and myself. My cock had actually re-erected soon after positioning my nose to the wall and I set my hands on my head. I thought that my arms would not last very long and they didn't, but I was in control of that timing anyway.

When I was ready I put them down and turned. There McPherson was, patient and quietly waiting sitting. He nodded and I walked to him and lay over his soft sweat pants covered lap. I felt like a fourth former again, god bless that feeling. His hands rubbed on my sore arse,

"Hmm, very nice Collison. You're going to feel this alright. I don't take lightly to boys sexing up my caning horse. I think I shall punish you not by this spanking tonight, but you shall come to my gymnasium office tomorrow night, in regular uniform and I shall give you a good sound spanking then, are we agreed?"

His idea excited me so. "Yes sir! I will report as required"

"Good," he said and that was when I felt his manly erection through his sweat pants. That made my cock lurch harder and I pointed my birched bottom up high for him then and he started to spank me.

Oh my. A spanking over a freshly birched bottom is not like any other spanking I had ever taken. More than that, McPherson was an enormously strong man in all aspects. He started to spank me and my bottom caught fire immediately. I started to wiggle and move, but I was fatigued and he knew it. All he did was to cleverly use my body weight and gravity against me by forcing my bottom less across and more parallel to his body, setting my bottom way out on the tip of one knee and then raising that knee, made me straddle his thigh to such an extent that my thighs were forced to part which exposed untouched areas of my buttocks and thighs to his attention. And lastly, it made me very submissive to his need to spank me as long as he wished. His hand then blistered me hard and relentlessly.

The effects were spectacular. I even had tears and yelped and once asked him to stop, though politely so. He did actually. I guessed because my request sounded so pathetic and small in his ears and mine too. He had broken me down as I had wished he would. Then he helped me up and stood with me as I was a bit light headed.

"Satisfied?" he aked.

I nodded, "Yes sir, it's what I wanted from you sir, all of it, thank you sir."

He nodded. I had forgotten all about his condition before the torrid spanking. His sweats were loose enough I could not tell if the man was still aroused. I did not want to insult him so all I did was look down at his groin for a moment and then looked back up at him and chastely pursed my lips so that he knew that I knew.

"You're excused Mr.Collison. I'll take my shower now, you'll know where I am then," and that was all he said.

He walked out before me and actually left me in a quandary. Did I really want to pursue this man? If I did, what did I want from him? Did I want him to bugger me? Did I want to suck his cock off? Did he want that? His suggestive tones and careful words were just that. Well, I set this thing up and I wanted to finish it.

I headed for the showers after him now and there he was, his naked body beautifully framed in the running hot steamy shower and nobody else around. I went for it and him. I just walked into the showers with my nakedness and totally reddened bottom. I noticed that before I walked in, his cock was limp. It became hard in seconds as I stood next to him. He said nothing. I never expected him to say anything, I didn't want him too. All I did was rinse off a bit then fell to my knees, wordlessly and in front of his cock and engulfed it in my mouth.

All McPherson did then was hold my head firmly and grunt. I moved his large organ in and out my mouth and lips and in due time, he blew his large load into my mouth. I stood up, rinsed off and left. That was it. That's just how I wanted it to be too, mindlessly dispassionate.

* * * * * * * * * *

When I returned to my House I was walking on air, almost literally. McPherson had tanned my hide to perfection and I was almost waddling from the residual spanking especially. I walked into my study and there was Wallace Handley. I grinned at him and he back at me,

"OK, let us have a look," Handley demanded.

I complied. I hiked down my P.T. kit as that was all I was wearing.

"My god Collison! He blistered your arse to kingdom-come! How does it feel?"

"Sore," I said with a smirk.

"OK, what else? Come on, spill the beans!"

"I blew him!" I smirked back proudly.

"You blew McPherson? Holy Jesus! And how was that?"

"He just stood there in the showers like a statue and grunted a lot, it was great!"

Wallace laughed, "Sounds just like you mate!"

"I appreciate you watching my house Handley, let me know how I can return the favor."

He looked at me and at the door, "Well, it's late for now."

It was late but Wallace Handley was a good lad and a good friend. He had done me a good turn too. He was hinting at me as I was slipping on my prefect's pajamas for bed.

"Not too late for me to give you the hiding of your life, you'd be the first," I said emphasizing the last bit.

He grinned at me. If anyone at Barrenford was like me, it would be Handley and he was good looking too.

"Well, actually, I was kind of hoping."

I smiled, "Don't bloody hope, get your clothes off Handley, I'm your Headboy now and you'll do as I say."

He blushed and lost his grin into a nervous smile. I knew I had him then. I fetched my senior cane and was really in the mood now to tan an attractive hide. Handley had that and more. I watched him enjoy himself just as I would. His cock was rock hard and mine was tenting my pajamas forward, but that was not important. Handley wanted to feel his new Headboy's power, maybe in more than one way.

He stripped naked and even I admired Wallace's body. He was a rugger boy. I was not, but he was taller than most and that made it perfect for me. I swished my best senior cane and tapped the chair I wanted him over,

"Over Handley."

"Yes Collison," he said very respectfully. It made me shiver and I think he liked saying it. He went perfectly over the chair and took advantage of his longish legs by elevating his arse high and I could leer at his tight hole between his full cheeks. I checked and he was hard as a rock still. I hoped he would stay that way, but I was not going to lessen the power of his cuts. I wanted to see just how much Wallace Handley might be like myself.

"A full dozen Handley, count them out!"

I whacked him the first cut. He gasped actually, "One sir!"

I whacked him the second. He winced, "Two sir! Thank you sir!" I shivered, I liked is response.

I whacked him the third, lower than the first two. His legs shivered and moved,

"Oh three sir! Thank you Collison!" and his voice was higher.

I checked, not only was he still hard in his cock, it was wet at the tip! It made mine moisten up as well in my pajamas! So I took a chance. I leaned over and whispered,

"If you cum Handley, I'm going to spank your caned bottom after I hide you!" and then got back up.

I smiled to myself. I whacked him his fourth, "Ohhh! Four sir, thank you Sir!"

I went on until finally the ninth. I whacked him hard, "Ohhhh sirrr, nine oh!!" and then he bucked and I looked down and semen was streaming from his cockhead like a faucet and he dipped down and tried comically to hump the top of the chair. I let him. He had done it, so I let him finish,

"Tsk, tsk, tsk Handley, I warned you. Three more cuts, then over my knee you will go for a sound spanking!"

"Yes Collison, sorry Sir!"

I said nothing and let him enjoy his submission to me. I cut him the last three and then unceremoniously and without pause told him to get up and I took Handley's arm and turning the chair around, I sat and pulled him over and set his caned bum on my knee just like McPherson had put me, right on the crown of my knee and elevated it high. His thighs spread and I started a hard and stinging spanking. I could see his face wincing and grimacing, but staying perfectly in place. It was driving my cock mad, but like McPherson, I was not going to push myself onto Handley for anything more.

I spanked him hard and to just a yelp and then stopped. He had taken a lot and I honored that.

"OK Handley, you're done, get up, let's check it."

I helped him up and stood up. My cock was tenting hard and the wet spot was very clear. He strained to look at his arse and I grinned at it but apparently he saw something he wanted more.

"How about I take care of that for you Collison?"

I nodded, "Do your best then," and stood there hands on hips.

He grinned and went to his knees. He pulled my pajamas down to my knees and looked at my cock. His mouth came up closely and his tongue started a longish trip around the shaft and even to my balls. He was intent on pleasuring me, but he only made it about halfway through sucking me off when he got up,

"I need to be sorted out, buggered good, please?"

I smiled, "Get on the fucking bed, arse up Handley, we haven't got all night!"

He jumped onto the bed and I got behind him. I mounted him hard, really hard, but he was experienced and I rogered him, pounded him really and had my way with one of my senior prefects, because now I was Headboy.

* * * * * * * * * *

The next evening

It was my first day as Headboy and I spent much of it with Headmaster Jamison. He was very happy and solicitous of my opinions about everything from mess hall menus to the state of our national World Cup football team. I was happy to give him my time, my opinions and my loyalty, just not my arse. But neither did he want that and now I had no worries about it either.

That evening, as prior ordered, I marched myself to the gymnasium and Mr. McPherson's office. He was expecting me and I walked in, "Evening sir" I said.

"Evening Collision, pleasant day?"

"Yes sir, very."

"Good, now let's have at it shall we?" and he got up and passed by me and walked down the hall to the birching room. I followed getting excited. I knew my bum was still marked up, but nothing was hurting. I closed the door after ingress and faced him. He had hands on hips, dressed in sweat pants as usual,

"Good, strip down Collision and while you're doing it, contemplate if you wish to up the ante."

"Up the ante sir?" I asked as I began to disrobe from my Headboy uniform.

"Yes, let's not be coy, you enjoy a good thorough hiding, I enjoy giving it and that's all I'll ever say on the subject other than if you wish more than a fourth former's spanking over my knee, just name your poison."

I rather enjoyed that little exchange. It was honest and tight, forthright and decidedly unfettered of anything but balls-to-the-wall honesty. I doubted that anyone else but myself was given that kind of relationship with this man. I decided to interpret his offer as something he really wanted to do, but would not push on me. That deserved a reward.

"Tawse sir, a dozen of your best."

"After a full birching last night Collision, my but you are a fan, aren't you," he said with just a hint of enjoyment to let me know I made the right decision.

"Yes sir," I said plainly.

He got his two-taled devil and I got into position. He spent a bit of time pawing at my birching marks before he stepped back,

"Twelve Collision, enjoy," and that last part was a little sarcastic as it should have been.

I got my twelve all right and each bloody strike found multiple spots deep in my arse that the birching rods had hidden just for a moment like this. It was a full painful tawseing and almost a partial re-birching of my flesh but I made it through and I even kept my erection. I even thought I gained his respect or at least a silent acknowledgement that our little arrangement, though eccentric and odd, still was not out of the bounds of decency and at least honesty between a man and a boy. He was honest too. I asked him after if I could blow his cock off and he said, "Yes" very quickly.

I did it right there in the birching room and didn't care for my own erection at the moment. I took care of that later in my own study by myself with the fond physical reminders and memories of the evening's events within easy reach of my other hand.

* * * * * * * * * *

18 months later

Rain, rain, nothing but gray skies and rain. Typical of Britain. I was late and rushing from work. The bank supervisor had called a late hour meeting that I had to attend, I was a novice loan officer in training and had turned 19. But I had an appointment to make after work and then the bus had been held up too. By the time I arrived at my appointment I was a full twenty minutes late. I knew I would pay for that dearly.

I rushed through the black iron side gate that was always left open for me. I hurried down the paved path towards the school gymnasium in a downpour and into the side door of the gym carrying my sports sack. I rushed into the locker room like a mad man, found my locker and disrobed quickly and put on my kit. I checked myself carefully. My lateness would carry a very painful penalty but sloppiness in kit would gain me a very disappointing dismissal from my appointment and that I could not countenance. Finally I walked to the door the same one I had walked to while I was Headboy for one school year as a student. It was still there, the school, and so was my Mr. McPherson. I knocked. "Come in," came the reply.

I went in and closed the door behind me, "Late sir, sorry sir," I said to my former P.T.I.

"Right, six with the tawse penalty, then a full birching as usual and spanking after, you may strip Collison."

"Yes Sir, thank you Sir!" I replied.

I went to my chair with the tawse on my mind ahead of the birching rods and spanking. This would be a challenge. I liked the fact that I didn't do it on purpose and that I was being penalized for wasting my benefactor's valuable time and throwing off all of our schedules. I say ours. I meant mine, McPherson's and Wallace Handley's.

When I was ready, I stood and waited as usual, cock hard, as usual.

"Get over Collision!" McPherson commanded.

"Yes Sir, thank you Sir!" and I put myself into position. McPherson's long large two tailed devil was not a stranger, far from it. Usually though it held sway by itself and handily so. Six of McPherson's tawse held equal to any twelve of another man's, I was sure of it. He lashed me. Oh, it still hurt like always, but before a birching? I was going to be in true living pain and I was. He gave me the six and did not stop, he went right to birching straight away. I was in tears soon.

The terrible sticks paused only when Wallace knocked and was given command to enter the room. He had not realized I was late as he usually arrived during my spanking. No matter. He was told to watch. He was already in kit as he should have been and was on time. McPherson made me wait at the wall. Handley had to wait with me, but looked none the worse for wear as he got to look at my bare birched and leathered behind, usually he did not have that treat.

When finally I was ready. I went over McPherson's knee for my spanking. It was as usual torrid, hard to take without embarrassing myself and made me feel like a fourth former. But I did it, wet face and all and with but mild yelping. He stood me up finally and nodded,

"Well done Collison," and then we turned and faced Wallace.

"Good, now Collison, you're on your own this time, we've had three sessions where I guided you, this time you will conduct Handley's thrashing on your own."

"Yes sir, thank you sir. Handley, strip!" I commanded Wallace.

"Yes Collison, " Wallace said and did as he was told efficiently.

My arse was on fire still and I enjoyed that as I had not re-dressed myself. I never did. Wallace Handley had joined Mr. McPherson and myself shortly after I had approached Mr. McPherson several months after my graduation from Barrenford and asked him if he wouldn't mind me visiting him monthly once again as I had while I was Headboy. He never flinched and just said, "Be on time or expect a penalty."

Wallace had sought me out shortly after that. He was working and living with his parents more distant away, but had good transportation. Let's just say that we never had yet gotten over Barrenford's hold on us.

Wallace was naked now, hard as a stone, just like me. McPherson rested, seated on his chair in his sweat pants as usual and this time just watched.

"Over Handley!" I said confidently.

He approached the horse and I picked up my birching rods. They sat in their own bucket of disinfectant separate from those that Mr. McPherson used on me. I swished them and examined them. Wallace was as usual in perfect position and ready. McPherson had taught me well. I remembered everything and tapped my fleshy target. I brought back and let fly. I could see by extension of Handley's head and the way he pursed his lips forward with a wrinkled brow that I had done well. I gave Wallace Handley his usual twelve cuts of the birching rods, fifteen seconds apart and he as usual toward the end, had the face of young man in total agony, straining not to cry, but did and yelping heartily as well with the last three or so.

Poor Wallace. He suffered so and wanted to suffer so, but only under my hand just as he had our last school year together these many months passed by. After the ordeal, he got up and went to the wall. McPherson stood from his chair and I came over and sat. McPherson stood by me and leaned over as we watched Handley and whispered,

"Well done Collison, he enjoyed that immensely and all the more because it was you and he alone," and his strong hand squeezed my shoulder. It made me blush.

When finally Handley was ready, he came over and slid himself perfectly over the crown of my knee, straddled my thigh perfectly and I spanked him hard and long until he begged me to stop as was always his ritual. So we were both roundly satisfied.

But by now, the shower after was also ritual. Handley and I followed McPherson and all ended up in the hot steamy old gymnasium locker room showers. I loved its feel and look and it always brought me back to "old times." We would rinse off, sometimes with soap, sometimes not and not touching each other or talking. When he was ready, Wallace would walk into the drying area, kneel and wait for me. I would leave the shower and walk over to him dripping wet.

Wallace Handley then would suck on my cock just a short while as I was always hard enough. He would then get up and using a long bench nearby in the lockers straddle the bench, bend over and present me his punished bare bottom. I would then bugger him, hard. No talking, just hard pounding sex. I would empty myself into him and by then McPherson was waiting for me.

No sucking cock was needed. Wallace would stand up, I would take his place bent over, ready for him. Mr. McPherson was ready too. He mounted me hard and relentlessly and never said a word, just grunted and treated me like as always, like an eternal Headboy who needed a hiding and a buggering regularly and that was all there was about it.

Afterwards, McPherson would always just say, "Nite lads, see your way out," and leave.

I liked him like that. Wallace and I would pack up and walk through the rain to a nearby Pub. We would drink a bit but not excessively as Wallace had to drive. He would afterwards then drive me to my flat and drop me off after our refreshment.

"Next time mate," he would say as I got out of his car.

"Nite Handley" I would say and that was it.

We never talked about what we did at our old school now. We were just bloody grateful for it, after all, it had made us that way or maybe it didn't. Maybe we had made it how we had wanted it. What was the difference anyway? One day it would all end, but until then, once per month we could be mates at school once more and enjoy the past for what it was now worth to us, him my Prefect and me a Headboy, enjoying the "demands" he had once made of his beloved P.T.I.

Your comments are appreciated. pjfranklinboy2@earthlink.net

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Last updated: June 21, 2009