Elevander's School


by Drinipita <Drinipita@hotmail.com>

Elevander told me he'd be putting something up. I left in the Summer, was there right from being 11 and was a prefect at the end.

My dad, he's strict, loads of bare bum spanks, but that's in the family, nothing gets you ready for a place like that school.

I got spanked first in the first week. Talking after lights out. Didn't think it was fair, but you don't argue. Lights were on again and I had to drop my jamas in front of 19 other little kids. I remember how red I went. My bum too. Made me cry.

After that, some other spankings. I remember my first in a prefect's room. I'll spare his blushes by calling him Smith.

Smith was always around me when I was 13. I was his fag. He was scarey and because I was scared I usually managed to do what he said. But then he started to make the jobs harder harder and harder. Looking back, it was obvious he was just waiting for an excuse to beat me, which in the end I gave him.

So he calls me to his room and there's another prefect there, we'll call him Pole. Pole locks the door after I walk in. Smith's room was at the top of a tower anyway, so no-one went up there much.

I'm told I'm getting beaten. They're sitting. I'm standing, hands behind my arse like they teach you to do. "Pole's going to strip you," Smith says. I can remember going cold in my guts right now.

Pole grins. He stands up, unbuttons and untucks my shirt and pulls it off. Then I get told to take off my sandals, which I do. So I'm standing in front of them in my long socks and my shorts and they make me put my hands behind my head. "I wonder if he'll have hair on his dick," Smith says.

"You have hair on your dick?" Pole asks.

I did have a bit. Pride and joy. I nodded.

"I think we'll have that shaved off," Smith says. I feel weird.

Pole moves his chair closer to me, very close so his knees are each side of my legs, up against them. He undoes the top button and clasp on my shorts. Looks up and smiles. I'm sweating now. He unzips me and tugs my shorts to my ankles.

I have to step out of them and put them on the desk. I'm just in my white briefs and long socks. They make me lie on the desk, face up. "Doesn't seem to be much there," Smith says, pinching my dick through my y-fronts.

"Let's see," Pole says, dragging my underpants to my knees. I remember how I felt. Exposed. Powerless.

"Hmm, has got some hair," Pole said.

Smith gets out his electric razor and shaves it off. I go hard. They laugh at it and flick it with their fingers. Then they turn me over, pull my briefs off and put pillows under me. They start to smack my arse all over, medium hard. My hard dick is still hard ramming up and down into the pillows. I know I'm about to have an accident and beg them to stop.

They do. They turn me over and start tapping my dick all over. I come. All over my stomach and chest. They scoop it up with teaspoons and make me lick it up. Now I get to stand and bend across the desk. But it's not a spanking I get. It's something else.

That was my first prefect spanking though.

So you go on, picking up spankings, most different kinds but I never got done in assembly. And you begin to like it when you get asked to see another boy get it from the housemaster. Watching his arse get red, watching him wriggle. And you like it when some younger boy has to strip off in assembly. And you begin to dream of being a prefect.

When I was 17, I got to be one. I started out on the younger kids. Used to get them to my room and make them strip to their briefs. I'd give them a good talking to them pull down their undies and spank them over my knee.

But there was this fourteen year old I really wanted to spank. He was cheeky and I wanted to bring him down a peg or two. Clever too, always just avoided punishment from everyone. And good to look at. He had curly black hair and soft brown eyes. This very juvenile start of a tache. Cheeks easily went red. Tallish. Muscular.

I knew I'd never handle him on my own. So I got my friend Gerald to be there and to lock the door. He immediately reacted. He guessed. "What have I done wrong? This isn't fair."

"You know you've done plenty," I said. "You've just avoided getting caught."

"Prove it!"

Good timing. A knock at the door. Gerry let in a thirteen year old and locked the door. "I need to ask him?" I asked. "What if I told the Headmaster?"

He knew what if. "What are you going to do with me?"

"Just whatever we want. And your little boyfriend can watch."

We had him lie on my bed and pulled off his sandals, shorts and shirt. Then Gerald put on some music and made him dance for us until he was sweating hard. Then we put him over my table and dropped his briefs. We let the thirteen year old whack him with a belt until he was yelling out.

Then we had him on his back lying on a towel, and shaved him all over - armpits, dick, balls, legs, turning him over and repeating the process, even shaving between his cheeks. Then we tied his wrists behind his back and spanked his smooth bare arse with our hands until he was begging for mercy. That was only the start.

It wasn't all like that there. I did well. That's how I got where I am now.


More stories by Drinipita