Tuesdays


by Ozwiz <Ozwiz45@hotmail.com>

It was Tuesday so the moment the final bell went, I was out of the classroom and sprinting flat out to get to Mr Dominic's on time. Every Tuesday I'm expected to report to him by four. Lateness is always punished. So is turning up looking untidy. Every week I'm one or the other. Trouble is something I just can't avoid.

Today, knocking on his huge front door, I'm on time, but breathless, jittery and dripping with sweat. Rubbing the tops of my shoes on the back of my legs won't get rid of the scuffed look. And, as always, there's butterflies in my belly. I know what lies ahead.

Mr Dominic, cool and composed, silently shows me inside, into his special front room. At one end is the big table on which are laid out the hairbrush, the tawse, the strop and several canes, including the big Singapore one.

I put my school bag in the corner then face the table with my hands on my head. The sinking butterflies are now accompanied by an inescapable feeling of horniness. I know he is watching me. The seconds tick by slowly. He always makes me wait.

"Tell me why you're here," his deep voice finally demands.

"For... For punishment, Sir."

"Correct. You're here to be punished. And this week will be memorable. You'll be going home with souvenirs. I intend to punish you severely and leave more than a mark or two on your bottom."

"Thank you, Sir," I mumble.

"On time for once, but scruffy. You'll get extra for that later. It's going to be a long afternoon and evening. I intend to make sure you are properly dealt with. You can begin by stripping to your underwear so I can fully inspect your body before I begin."

He sits in his leather chair behind me, watching as I do as I'm told - remove my Nikes, sox, fatigues and tee-shirt, and place them neatly on the chair. I'm in an old pair of faded blue briefs. They're real tight and they bulge out at the front. I get punished extra when I forget and wear boxers. Mr Dominic doesn't like his boys in boxer shorts.

I stand facing the table, hands on head. I can't help it. My briefs are tenting at the front. But I'm not allowed to adjust myself. Mr Dominic stands in front of me. His fingers check out my nipples. He squeezes them and I try not to wince. Then he turns me around, kicks my legs wider apart and pulls down my thin briefs.

"Hands on the table."

I lean forward as he begins to examine my butt. I checked this morning - there's still a couple of fading bruises from last week's tuition and on my right thigh there are still six small marks from the tip of his medium cane. He touches my hip and grunts approvingly.

"I thought those last six would be stingers" he comments.

"Yes Sir."

"But you're back here again this week."

"Please Sir, I promise I'll improve ..."

"Stop whingeing. It only makes your punishment worse. Push your bottom up."

Mr Dominic parts my cheeks and examines my butt-hole. It's humiliating. My _c_o_c_k_ pokes out, fully erect. He pushes at least two fingers up inside me. He likes to lubricate me in advance so I'm ready in case he wants to use me that way later on. I tremble. He places a small butt plug and some lube in front of me on the table.

"Insert this."

It takes me a minute or two. I'm nervous and tight. He sits on the couch watching. I wish I was better at doing things like this. I can't help it, my _c_o_c_k_ is still rigid.

"Pull up your underpants and come over here."

I walk towards him, blushing slightly.

"First an old-fashioned handspanking, to get you warmed up. Over you go."

I drape myself over Mr. Dominic's knees, my hands and feet touching the floor. He parts my legs and rubs my bottom, checking that the plug is right up inside me. Then he starts spanking, alternating from left to right cheek.

My old cotton underpants offer little protection as the intensity of the whacks increases. By twenty, I'm trying hard not to cry out. Then he stops, grips then wedgies my briefs up my butt crack, exposing my left and right cheeks. And the spanking begins again. Thirty, forty, then fifty and he pauses to pull down my briefs and examine my bottom.

"Stand up and strip naked."

My _c_o_c_k_ is still rock hard.

"Back into position."

The next fifty are much more painful. I'm determined not to cry out, but can't help wriggling. His other hand is beneath me, playing with my _c_o_c_k_. Just when I think I can't take any more, he stops.

"Stand up. Hands on head. Bend over."

He examines my butt, checking the plug is still fully inserted.

"Red, but not red enough. Go to the table and bring me the hairbrush."

"Oh, please, Sir. No Sir. I'm sorry, Sir."

Boys who claim a set administered by cane, belt or strap hurts much more than a dose of the hairbrush have never been 'counselled' by Mr Dominic. He wields a very mean hairbrush.

"Silence, boy. An extra six for that outburst."

I get the brush from the table. It's difficult walking with the plug up me. I know that if it comes out, I will instantly get six with the big cane and a larger plug will be inserted. As I walk back towards him my fully erect _c_o_c_k_ bounces up and down. It's humiliating. And there's nothing I can do about it. It's just poking straight up. I can't try to push it away from him. I'm never allowed to touch myself anywhere down there without his permission. I hand him the brush.

"I think you're ready. Over the back of the couch, boy. Head down. Bum up."

I take up the required position. He stands behind me. The worst part sometimes is the waiting, knowing what's about to happen and how it will feel. I spread my legs so he can get a good view of everything. He likes to look.

"You agree you need a sound spanking boy?"

"Yes, Sir. I know I need it real bad, Sir. I'm ready Sir."

Whack. It stings. So do the next five quickly delivered on the same spot on my left cheek. Then six are given on my right cheek.

"Aaah, Sir. Yes, oh yes. Sir, thank you. Yes Sir, thank you Sir. I can take it Sir."

And Mr Dominic is happy to deliver it. Whack! My feet are off the floor. I'm sliding over onto the couch. Whack! I push myself back. Whack!

"Keep still, boy. I don't want a moving target. Don't move." Whack! Whack!

"Sorry Sir. I'm doing my best. Sorry Sir."

Then Mr Dominic begins to alternate sides, covering my butt all over.

"Oh, please, Sir, I promise I won't be bad again."

Sir gets into a rhythm. Slow and steady. Whack! Whack! Whack!

"Good, boy. That's the way. You're taking it well. Soon you'll be all hot and glowing, and ready for my cane." Whack! Whack! Whack!

I grunt as each stroke connects. Whack! Whack! Whack!

"That's the way, boy. Keep still for me. Take your treatment. Make an effort for me, boy," he keeps encouraging me.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

"Yes Sir," I whisper back. "Thank you, Sir."

Whack! Whack! Whack!

It really hurts, a stinging pain. And I begin crying. Mr Dominic likes what he calls "a showing of genuine tears". I find it real humiliating. I'm not a little kid. I'm grown up and I should be able to take it. I poke my butt right up to show him that despite the tears I'm doing my best.

"You need it harder boy?" he asks.

"Yes Sir. Please Sir. I can take it."

"Good boy. That's what I like to hear."

I'm determined to keep my butt poked up for treatment but after the second set of six, I'm really sobbing. But I keep pushing my butt right up. I know I can take it. The strokes get even harder. But I'm determined not to whinge or beg him to stop.

"This is what you need," he says. "Don't wriggle. We've only started, my boy."

I sob, gasping for air. Whack! Whack! Whack! Mr Dominic places a firm hand on my back.

"I see I'm finally getting through to you. Another twenty four of these should do the trick. I'd like you to call them for me.,"

Whack!!

"Ohhhh, one, Sir!"

Whack!!

"Ohhhh, two, Sir!"

It seems endless. I concentrate on counting and deep breathing between strokes. If I get a number wrong that one doesn't count. If I completely lose count, Mr Dominic starts again from one. So I concentrate real hard.

My bottom feels like it's on fire but it's bearable. I'm over the worst. It still hurts, if anything he's hitting harder than before but it just feels intense and throbbing. And it feels right. We both know it's what I want and need. And I know I can take this, and more.

Whack!!

"Twenty four Sir. Thank you Sir."

"Don't move boy."

Mr Dominic walks around and sits on the couch. He's smiling.

"Here boy."

I lie over his lap. He puts cream on his hands and gently rubs it into my scarlet cheeks. He plays with my erection and pulls the plug out, then pushes it back in. I can tell he is just as aroused as I am.

"On your knees boy."

He pats my head as I kneel before him, hands behind my back, and use my mouth to give him pleasure. I really like doing this. It's one of the few ways I can give him pleasure. I know he really gets off on beating me, and on encouraging me to take more, but this is the only way I get to directly show him my devotion.

"Good boy, that's it boy."

I can tell he's close to orgasm. He makes my head bob up and down, faster and faster, then he fills my mouth.

"Swallow boy. Swallow it all."

He pats my head, then puts his _c_o_c_k_ away and zips up.

"Stand up boy, remove the plug, wipe yourself then put your briefs back on."

My butt feels real hot and stinging. While he's out of the room getting me a Coke and himself a Scotch, I rub my ass and check it out in the full length mirror. It's a deep red from waist to thighs.

He sits on the couch. I sit on the floor with my head resting on his knee. He asks me how my studies are going and then about less academic things like how much I'm wanking and if I've had _s_e_x_ with anyone. I tell him everything. I always tell him everything.

Finally he leans over and takes my empty glass.

"Stand up boy."

My cheeks are really prickling and hot.

"OK my boy. Hands on head. Face away from me. Bend over, legs apart."

He pulls down my briefs and lightly slaps each cheek. It really stings. He puts his hand between my legs and begins playing with my _c_o_c_k_.

"A nice red bottom. That's what I like to see. A boy's bottom all red and hot."

Then I feel the fingers of his other hand as one, then two or three are inserted into me. I get stiff and begin moving back and forwards, trying to get his fingers further up me.

"Now boy," he says, his fingers responding to my thrusts, "I am about to give you six strokes of the whippy cane over your briefs. I've quite a session planned, and these will be the first. They won't be light. I think you're ready."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Over the table."

I walk to the table and bend over, knowing what is to come. I'm still stiff and aroused. I wait. Mr Dominic picks up the whippy cane and swishes it in the air. I wait. The butterflies are still there - that mix of fear in my belly and randiness in my _c_o_c_k_. Mr. Dominic said this caning would be a hard one. I twitch my bottom.

"Keep still."

Mr. Dominic knows how I hate the waiting. He swishes the cane again.

"Ready boy."

"Yes Sir."

"Ready for what boy?"

"For . . for the cane, Sir."

"That's right. To have my cane" - he whips it through the air - "across your bottom."

Whoop!

It's a scorcher, right across the middle of my bottom. The next five are just as hard. Two above, two below, then the signature stroke, a diagonal across the other five. The last is a real stinger and I yelp.

"Good. Stand up. Hands on head. Go to the mirror and lower your briefs and examine yourself."

Sure enough, on the red skin are five thin lines, evenly spaced and crossed by a sixth.

"When you arrived here, you looked scruffy. And you whinged. That's extra, let's say three which you may as well take now since I just remembered. Touch your toes. Leave your briefs lowered."

The three good hard strokes are quickly administered. They really hurt. I gasp for breath. I know I've been bad. I know I deserve the caning.

"Back to the table."

I hate walking with my briefs at half mast.

"Bend over."

He re-inserts the butt-plug, then starts pulling it out and pushing it in. I get more and more horny.

"Please _f_u_c_k_ me Sir." I beg.

"Time for the big cane," is his response.

He swishes it in the air. Its sound is more low-pitched than the whippy cane. It will hurt.

"First I'm going to administer twelve with this cane. Think you can take them in one set?"

"I'll try Sir."

"Bend further over the table. Legs a little wider apart please. Head and arms out. That's it, bottom right up. No moving. No noise. Ready?"

"Yes Sir," I whimper.

Crack! Hard, and dead centre. The pain begins at once. It's not just the skin, it's deep and it spreads. Mr. Dominic waits. Then

Crack! I push my butt up high. I know it will be bruised black and blue from this treatment. Then Crack! I bite my lip, trying not to cry out. Then Crack! The pain is intense. Then Crack! I start sobbing, gasping for air. Then Crack!

"A show of tears boy?" Mr Dominic asks. "You want a break before the next six?"

That means he knows these are hard strokes. I have to show him I'm doing my best for him.

"No Sir. I can take them Sir. As hard as you can Sir. I'll take them for you."

"Good lad."

Then Crack! I continue whimpering, telling myself only five to go. Then Crack! Only four. I know I can take it. Then Crack! I poke my butt as high as possible. Then Crack! My legs are trembling uncontrollably. Then Crack! Only one more to go. Crack! My knees give way and I slide to the floor.

"Well taken... Now get up, hands on head, breathe deeply."

Mr. Dominic walks over to the couch and sits down.

"Ready boy?"

I nod, "Almost."

"Pull up your briefs and come here."

I gingerly pull them up, hoping my dripping pre-cum won't stain them too obviously. I walk to the couch and face Mr Dominic.

"A damp patch. You know what that means. Over my knees, boy."

"Please Sir. Not yet Sir. I'm not ready Sir."

"Over my knees. NOW," he barks.

"Please..." I mumble as I slowly obey, placing myself over his knees, feet and hands touching the floor, totally vulnerable.

Mr. Dominic gently peels my briefs down. He rubs my butt and inserts fingers into my hole. I moan in pleasure.

"You still can't help yourself, can you? Whingeing." Slap on the right cheek. "Begging me to stop." Slap on the left cheek. "You do so well then you go and spoil it by arguing. You've yet to learn. You must not think about it, you must simply concentrate on instant obedience. "

His fingers thrust in and out.

"I'm sorry Sir. Whatever you want to do Sir."

Mr Dominic begins spanking me. Not too hard, but a fast rhythm, left then right, left then right. His other hand is beneath me, playing with my full-on erection. The spanks get harder and harder. Just as I'm about to come, he stops.

"Over the table for the Singapore Special."

This time I obey instantly. I don't think about it. I've only had the Singapore cane twice before. Each time only two strokes. Each time it broke the skin and the bruising took weeks to fade away. It's long, thick and vicious.

He taps my bottom with it, getting the distance just right. Too close and the tip will wrap around my hip and do more than merely break the skin.

Then Crack! The force of the impact flattens me on the table. I grab the sides and push my bum back up as the pain fully registers. Crack! My knees give way but it's OK, I'm holding on to the table. It's a deep burning pain.

"Call the next one," says Mr Dominic.

That means it's up to me. I call them fast, hoping the pain will blur, fighting the tears.

"Three Sir." Crack! "Four Sir." Crack! "Five Sir." Crack!

I'm blubbering and gasping. I feel him touch my butt, tracing his finger over the deep welts across it. Then with one hand he begins spanking me real hard, with the other, he's bringing me to orgasm. It only takes a couple of jerks and I'm blasting.

"Well done boy. Well done."

Comments welcome to ozwiz45@hotmail. com


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