The Autumn leaves slithered under my feet in the drizzle as I walked up the path to our front door having just come from the station. the darkness was enfolding now as the nights had long since closed in from Summer and a stiff breeze fanned the back of my neck.
"Hello" I thought, "There's a light on in the hall. I don't remember leaving that on."Bill, my other half, was away on business as he was increasingly these days it seemed, so I would be alone this evening, and after a quick bite I planned to meet my old mate Terry at the Red Lion for a final pint. I'd had a couple after work with colleagues and, as you do, felt a couple more would go down a treat. Fridays were usually my 'free night' even when Bill was home and Tel would be expecting me to ring at about nine-thirty. It was now 19-45 or thereabouts, a good hour beyond my usual homecoming time, but no Bill this time to enquire into the circumstances. My behind almost wriggled in relief at that thought. I turned the key absently in the mortise lock- no movement! "Blast!" I exclaimed out loud, that was careless, forgetting to lock the double mortise! Bill would have the skin off me if he ever knew. Would I tell him? I was usually scrupulously honest whatever the consequences for my backside. The yale was secure however, so perhaps all was well and I pushed the door open. "Phew" no sign of intruders! I'd gotten away with it! I bent down to put my briefcase in its usual place, by the hat-stand and turned away, then it hit me.
"Good evening young man." it was Bill standing in the doorway of his study, and yes I seen his briefcase sitting there in it's usual place!,so that explained the lock. My heart sank and my face must have been a picture of guilt and surprise (Bill was later to tell me how he'd wished he had a camera to capture the look on my face at that moment but I digress.)
"Well James." ("James" oh God now I was for it, when he used my full name I knew a sore bottom was not far away.) "What time do you call this ?
I grappled for some kind of answer that would stand up in court but could only stammer "B-b- but uh Bill, it's uh, it's well I- I- I........"
"And do I smell alcohol on your breath ? I do believe I do. Come into the study James" my head hanging down already I followed meekly, resigned to a whacking.
I should explain that Bill and I have been living together now for a couple of years. He is some seven years my senior, and I was in my late twenties when we first met some time before that. He had always treated me like a nephew or son and discipline had always been part of our relationship together, although lately as we got used to each other he used it more and more sparingly, so much so that I was beginning to wonder if he any longer found in me what he had always wanted. It had been a long time since we enjoyed our C.P. games together, and his real punishments were now sporadic and over rather too quickly to be effective. So I expected a quick six and that would be that, they would of course be hard and on my bare bottom, they always were, but they would be over. Part of me regretted that fact.....
There he stood towering above me, all 6'1" of him to my 5'7". His face was sterner than I had seen in a long time. I wonder.......? Then it began, a scolding such as I had not experienced:
"It is clear to me James that for some time I have been neglecting your character and that I have allowed you to slip into careless and inconsiderate and immature ways that you had before I found you! That is going to stop lad from this moment! Your behaviour this evening is evidence enough. You arrive home, late, untidy ( my top shirt button was loose and my tie adrift it was true.) and drunk! ( an exaggeration, but Bill was virtually T.T. and hated it when I had more than a single pint.) So, when the master's away the boys will play, is that it James?"
My silence and hanging head were eloquent enough to answer, but I had to say something; "Sir, ( not Bill anymore you notice.) I- I Im sorry, I didn't expect you....., that is I wasn't...." ".....expecting me home this evening. That much is evident although I thought I had you well trained enough to be able to trust you while I went away. You disappoint me James. I had hoped for better." The sorrow in his voice cut me like a knife, and bitter tears of regret sprung to my eyes as I contemplated the worse that could follow.
"Please don't send me away, Please I couldn't bear it, Please I'll be good, honest I will......." My voice, tiny and thin tailed away. His arms enfolded me and I sobbed into his massive body with uncontrolled racking heaves while his right hand held the back of my neck and the other held my buttocks. In due time I subsided and looked up at him, for the first time. His eyes stared back soft and mellow but his voice was stern.
"You know I must punish you for this don't you?" I nodded weakly " But this time not the love taps of recent months, no quick six for you. You realise that too don't you?" Again I nodded. "Yes." I thought 'Yes punish me, whip me, tear my skin off in strips, do what you like, but oh please don't send me away from your love.'
" So I want you to go to your room, get out those clothes, wash your face and the rest of you and report back here in 15 minutes exactly. Full school greys!"
Heartened and feeling happier I rushed up the stairs, stripped and as I washed and shaved the days grime and stubble from my body I pondered this transformation. Would things be as they had been at the beginning with Bill and I? I would certainly do my part. I had to work quickly although body shaving is a time consuming business, Bill had always insisted I be totally hairless, neck to toes since I first committed myself to him. I hurriedly pulled on my greys feeling the exciting contrast between my bare legs and the smooth lining of my shorts and the close tightness of the seat which somehow long trousers never have. It's almost as if shorts designers, especially those designing school shorts, emphasise the backside of a boy. At any rate I was soon dashing downstairs still doing the knot in my tie breathlessly hoping I had met my 15 minute deadline. After all I was in enough trouble already! After my earlier emotional reaction I was feeling lighter spirited that my master was restored to his former glory and I was proud to submit to his will once more. (I did not know at this point just how uncompromising he could be, but I soon found out!)
I knocked in time honoured fashion and entered the study when summoned and stood before him, hands behind my back, legs apart. " stand up straight and at attention, boy." (contempt and derision filled the word 'boy' as I had never before heard from his lips.)
"Listen while I pronounce your fate, and think on it carefully. You have shown that you cannot be trusted to behave as a mature man and behave like a child. I shall treat you like one until further notice when you arrive home each evening you will change, as you have done now, into your boy's clothes and report to me. This weekend and subsequent weekends will be the same. You are to regard yourself as being 'gated', as you were no doubt at school. I am going to lock away all your man's clothes, and each morning will lay out your office things for the day. I will give you enough pocket money for each day, but no more. Your cheque book is withdrawn and your personal credit cards confiscated. It's back to school for you lad, commencing tonight."
I stared, this I had not expected. What would my mates say? What would Tel say? I hadn't bargained for this. Still play along, it might just be a game for the evening........
" For this evening you are also in detention and in particular disgrace for which exemplary punishment is necessary. For lateness, deceit, untidiness and disobedience you will be punished by me each half hour until 10-30 pm when you will be sent to bed. You will not be given any supper and between each beating you will either write out lines or other impositions or spend the time in your corner as you used to."
My corner! I had forgotten that. In the hallway behind the door I had had to spend in the past, after punishments, often with my bare bottom exposed. If friends called it made no difference,Bill would just leave me there, and most had gotten used to it in time, although they must have thought it odd to say the least. This was going to be tough! "Take up your position. "The first of my punishments inexorably was announced. I knew the ritual.
" Move to the centre of the room,(so his swing could have full effect.) take your trousers down and touch your toes." In a few seconds I was staring at my bare knees and thighs, my short laying in a crumbled heap round my ankles. I waited for the tap of the cane on my bum as he took his stance, but in vain. What was up??
" James, I want you to tell me how many strokes you think you deserve for your tardiness in coming home this evening." Oh no, the guessing game! It was years since he had played this trick! if I guessed his figure correctly, that was exactly what I received. If I underestimated I received a bonus of the difference. And if I was more severe than his estimate- no relief there either as he put it. He accepted my own assessment of my misdeeds as honest repentance and remorse, and would not deny me the
chastisement I clearly felt that I deserved! it was not a game I could possibly win! I had never been so late as this through my own fault, so had no idea. Six was my usual, but obviously too little, so I hazarded "nine, sir."
"Twelve young man, amended by your insolent guess to fifteen, from now on twelve is your new minimum,six has obviously been too little to influence your behaviour. "And with that the cane tapped my bottom, swung back, and descended with a CRACK! The first caning is always the hardest, and Bill laid on with a will. CRACK!..CRACK!.. Two and three followed swiftly, and I drew my breath in "FFFFFFFFFFFFF AH!" CRACK!.. CRACK!.. CRACK! As quick a six as I've had in my life"OhOh Oh-oooh!" My breath was taken away completely, my bum was a throbbing mass of scorched flesh and I was less than halfway through. Then a pause before his cane tapped again, this time on the near side of my left buttock. Bill was always totally fair minded that way! A brief pause, a tap then CRACK! pause,one two three CRACK! pause, one two three CRACK! "AaaAAh!" Each stroke was on exactly the same spot. Bill was NOT out of practice, and his aim was unmerciful. How much more of this determined punishment could I withstand without breaking ?
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Shifting to the centre of my behind right on the crown Bill delivered a barrage, progressively working down my bottom until the last landed right in the crease. By my reckoning only two more to go and the pause seemed an infinity in length. Bill was admiring his handiwork I imagined, and selecting the next target area. Then a mighty WHOOSH and THWAAACK! another crease stroke which produced a strangled whimper and sob as I swayed forward forward with his expert follow through. I was numb and defeated. The final stroke was like a benediction by comparison so little did I feel it. I hardly heard the instruction to get up although I obeyed. I swayed as I stood with tears running down my cheeks. That penultimate stroke broke my will completely and I was HIS again. I knew once more that there was nothing I would not do for him; no punishment I would not accept though sobs racked my body; no ordeal I would not undergo to please him.
His hand on my neck he shuffled me, my shorts still clustered round my ankles to my corner, the place of reflection.
"Half an Hour hands on your head." he said and left me. Time passed, I know not how and suddenly he called me forth again. My behind still felt numb, but I knew I would take my next punishment more easily. Not so! " step out of your bags and put them, tidily on the chair." so I was to bare my bottom all evening.
" For your untidiness and scruffy appearance earlier this evening I have decided to deal with the perpetrators of this fault directly. Hold out your hands!" and as I did so, trembling, for this was always a very painful experience for me, he revealed his dreadful leather strap, hidden previously behind his back. My hands shook, so he grabbed my right wrist, steadied it, and brought the strap down letting the weight do its work. I cried out in agony as my fingers first went numb and then throbbed as the constricted blood flowed back. then the other hand, he waited patiently for my sobs to subside before landing the next, until 3 strokes had been delivered on each hand. Compassionately, he allowed me to press my tortured hands under my arms, my face contorted with pain.
Good let that be a lesson to when next time you contemplate mischief with idle hands. Go over to the desk." ( Oh no I thought the backside again over the desk. But I had misjudged my dear and darling Bill.) "Sit down and write out for me, clearly and neatly, 200 times the sentences you see written at the top of the page." It read:
'I AM AN IDLE, IRRESPONSIBLE, WRETCHED AND ILL-DISCIPLINED BOY WHO DESERVES FIRM REGULAR CHASTISEMENT'.
The difficulty of grasping a fountain pen to perform such a task after the hands have been subject to such corrective action can only be appreciated by those who have experienced it. By the time I had completed my imposition, which was only just within the half-hour, the meaning and truth of that sentence was engraved on my memory such that I could no more deny it than deny my own name. I had been taken down yet more pegs and felt truly wretched, my hands still aching with the correction.
My third punishment could not match these others, but I had not reckoned with the determination and expertise of my Master, whose purpose was to break my spirit like a yearling to the bridle. As I stood and presented him with my lines, I observed in his hand a small strip of leather - no mighty instrument of correction this. My lines so carefully scribed were unceremoniously consigned to the waste bin. Then the hand to my neck again, at first almost caressing and the eyes looking into mine,, full of compassion, but also of something deeper.
I knew that my sins were as yet unexpiated and that further suffering was my lot. Gently, without words he guided me to the sofa. So it was to be a spanking, " No problem" I thought." After what I've had..... so once comfortably over his knee, his hand still stroking my neck, I felt calm. Then the hand, his left, reached down across my back and gripped the underside of the sofa, my neck stretched over his left thigh, as if on the block, I was immobilised. Gradually he began to smack me with his little strap. Little it may have been but it proved to be of hardened thick leather and two tailed. In fact it was an infant's lochgelly tawse. It was not the individual blows that hurt, but their frequency and number. They spread all over my bottom, gradually down my thighs as far as my knees, and hard as I might wriggle and loud as I might yelp, he yielded not. " OH! OW! AH! OOH! AH! AH! NO! please. OW! NO! AH! AH! OW! Bill Pleeaaase NO!.... " And so my litany of pain ascended to no avail. He was cruel and merciless and spared not an inch of my skin. How long this continued I cannot tell. The strokes were without number. By the end, once again I was convulsed in tears and sobs, and on being allowed to rise to my feet, my legs were glowing red from knees upwards with my spanking. The hand on my neck led me again to my corner where a stool had been placed. as an elegant variation my detention was now served on the stool, my head down between my knees and my fiercely glowing bottom sticking right out at the back. My tortured thighs were in contact with the P.V.C. seat and their burning soreness was literally rubbed in. I felt helpless, exposed, vulnerable, thoroughly unmanned. I reckoned my time was just about up when there came a ring at the door. 'Oh God, I thought who will this be? To my horror as it opened I heard Terry's voice, my erstwhile drinking companion. Why had he not telephoned as was usual? Why call direct like this? - Bill. "Tel! Great to see you mate. Come in." As the door closed I knew my humiliation was complete, for to my knowledge, my close but straight friend Terry had no inkling of the unusual nature of Bill's and my friendship, that we were Gay he knew, and had no problem over, but this..............
" I see Jimmy finally got what was coming to him." This was Tel? "
Thanks to you and your tip-off about his behaviour when I was away, but I've not finished with this young man yet. Care to witness he finale?"
"Why else do you think I'm here?"
My senses reeled. What tip-off? Was what had happened to me Terry's doing?
"Right. James you may get down from there and go to the garden shed and wait for us there. " Only half in my senses I obeyed without any thought to do otherwise. The drizzle still fell softly as I gingerly went down the path to the shed. No light shone so it was quiet safe and anyway our garden is not overlooked, but I was very conscious of my nakedness below the waist. I entered the shed and wondered whether to turn on the light. I had not been instructed to do so, and knew of old, the penalties of thinking too much for myself, so I waited in darkness shivering more in fear than from the cold.
Soon I heard footsteps and voices coming down the path and the door swung open. The light came on and I blinked. As my eyes focused I gasped. in the centre of our substantial shed was a wooden structure whose purpose was clear from the various leather straps attached to it, and, more ominously, a bucket next to it containing birch rods soaking in water. So that was my final punishment, the birch. The horse was new and had been secretly constructed.
" A nice piece of work Tel, you did a good job there."
" Yeah well, lets see how it works in practice, it's all been theory up to now and I had to work on estimates without the 'customer' to test it."
" Estimates of your body's size, James, Terry means. This is a personalised Whipping Horse designed for your height, waist and leg measurements and so on. Strapped to this you'll not be able to twitch a muscle and your bottom will be in exactly the right position for punishment. Now get over it, but first remove the rest of your clothes. You will always be naked when over YOUR whipping horse." Shivering and trembling I peeled off my pullover, tie and shirt and bent to remove my shoes and socks. No sooner did I stand up than Terr'ys hands grabbed my arms and pinned them behind me, and moved me to the horse. Both men then proceeded to secure my ankles, knees, thighs, waist, back, forearms and wrists by straps to this machine. My body formed an inverted V now and the crown of my backside was at the apogee and at about waist height for Bill, my chastiser, affording him maximum downwards swing. To avoid my cries alerting the neighbours a leather gag strap was placed on me, not too tightly, it was enough to prevent much noise, but loose enough for me to express my agony to my tormentors.
I now heard a birch being removed from its resting place and then its unique swish through the air, water droplets chilling my skin as they were shaken off. Theses were classic spray types, appropriate to a prep school of victorian days, but no less likely to remove the skin from my breech, properly and diligently applied
" One dozen with each birch, boy." There came again that contempt as he called me that. Here was my High Noon as the birch descended, sending fiery prickles across my backside. The first six were none of them horrendous, and all of them tolerable, not to say enjoyable in their own way, but by number seven there was a build up of feeling that would not abate as each subsequent stroke cut into me and Bill increased the pace; THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! numbers seven, eight and nine landed diagonally along the top of my right thigh and lower region of my buttock where the tenderness of my spanking still lingered and my body leapt in the bonds. Then again on the other thigh and mercifully the beating was suspended but only for a short while as the fresh rod was brought into play.
And like a fresh attacking forward it cut through and scored goal after goal on my defenceless hide. I writhed and wriggled all to no avail as the buds cut into my flesh, the straps held my bottom firmly in place. I could feel the hot blood spraying from my cuts and for the forth time my sobs were heard, though somewhat muffled by my gag.
I've no memory of being released and taken back to the house. Cradled in Bill's arms he took me upstairs, where in the bathroom he bathed my stripes, anointed them with a soothing antiseptic cream and washed my tear stained face. I was now hopelessly defeated. when my composure returned he sat me on my bed and looking deep into my eyes addressed me:
" Well James, you've been well punished, soundly whipped, and I hope you've learnt your lesson. The next few weeks will be tough in their own way, but less so for your having received your punishment tonight. You know now that we mean business, I say WE because it was Terry who tipped me off about your behaviour while I was away, he's a good friend and does not want to see us split up. He helped me in this to save our relationship, and on the odd evening I am away on business in the next few weeks he will stand in my place, and will punish you too if you deserve it."
I was too exhausted and overwhelmed to say anything, so clambered into my pyjamas and my bed, to which I was now banished until Bill deemed me worthy of sharing his again. softly, gently he kissed my forehead. " Now go to sleep, there's a good boy. You've been naughty but you've been punished, and you know I love you all the more for it."
As the light was extinguished I tried to sleep fitfully, on my belly as circumstances dictated. It is hard to describe the feelings I had for my Master, but they were warm, loyal, obedient worshipping feelings. He had cared enough to do all this to me. And what about my friend Terry?
GREATER LOVE HATH NO MAN THAN HE LAY INTO HIS FRIEND'S BACKSIDE FOR THE SAKE OF HIS FRIENDSHIP