Christmas 1999


by Tutorteach <Albi39@hotmail.com>

An interesting recent experience.

I was contacted by the Principal of a private school and asked if I could do anything to help them with a boy in their charge, whose mischief was going far beyond reasonable bounds and not at all responding to the school's disciplinary measures. The boy, who was 15, had a father living abroad who believed in corporal punishment. This was a problem for the school because its policies did not allow for this. So it was agreed that the school should broker a deal which, effectively was a domestic matter between myself and his absent father.

You may say, what about the youngster's rights in all this? Interestingly, he had told the school that he would far rather accept corporal punishment than be expelled. His friends were at the school and he did not wish to return to his father.

So it came about that, for the first time in my experience, I found myself residing in a boys' boarding school during a wintry holiday, with my only student young Kenton Rodgers (I have changed the name of course).

Kenton, I will tell you candidly, is a remarkably attractive young chap. Slender but far from overly thin, he has mid-brown hair cut tidily, deeply brown eyes, and a sweetly freckled and rather long face. His skin is still soft and, although he is tall, he is still all boy.

I also discovered Kenton to have a wonderful sense of humour; and most of the time, to my surprise, he was a delightful winter companion. It was just that, at the more essential moments, his sense of humour got the better of him, and a humorous wickedness got himself - and me - into scrapes in public places.

It was after one of these eventualities, just after Christmas, that I decided that physical punishment was a necessity.

I should explain that I was living in a vacant school staff flat in the main building; and it was to my flat that I invited Kenton that December evening, dressed still in his school uniform of light grey long trousers, white shirt, red tie, and dark grey V-Neck pullover, with grey socks and black shoes.

I took him into my study bedroom, which was capacious, sat at a desk chair and had him stand before me.

"You know you have left me no alternative now?"

"Yes, sir."

"How did your father used to punish you?"

"That was a long time ago, Sir, when I was ten. He used to bend me over a chair and cane me."

"With your trousers on?"

"Yes, Sir - they were short trousers then."

"I see. You should know, Kenton, that I take a boy's trousers off." I looked him in the eye.

He looked me back in the eye. "Oh." He flushed, just slightly.

"And his underpants." I caught his eye again.

He looked back at me. "Oh boy!"

I looked back at him. "Quite. Take off your shoes please."

He stooped, unlaced and tugged off his shoes.

"And your socks."

Holding my chair, he removed his socks. His feet were bare.

"Come closer."

As if magnetised, strangely poised and intense, he drew close. I reached out to his belt and unbuckled it. I looked him in the eyes. He held my gaze, the very slightest of grins playing around the corners of his mouth. I undid his top button and clasp and unzipped. His trousers dropped to his ankles. I looked at him. He looked at me. "Take them off," I said. He did.

He was standing before me, bare of foot and leg, in his pullover, shirt and tie, presumably briefs, but they were hidden by the long shirt front and tail. "Beginning to feel embarrassed?" I asked.

He smiled coyly. "A bit," he said.

"Come closer again," I said, standing.

He came close. He smelt.... all boy. I had him lift his arms. I peeled off his pullover. He suddenly looked smaller, younger, more vulnerable. "Take off your tie and unbutton your shirt."

He did so. I spread his shirt wide and pulled it off his slender shoulders. He stood before me in a white singlet tucked into blue Y-fronts. I looked down. He looked down. He was very hard.

"You are very hard, Kenton," I said.

He looked at me. "Yes, Sir."

I reached forward and pulled his briefs to his ankles. His 5 inch circumcised dick stuck forward and upward. "Very hard indeed," I said. "Step out of your underpants."

He stepped out of his underpants.

"Follow me," I said.

He followed me, out of the flat, down the stairs into the main school, along to the gymnasium.

I bent him over a beam, legs and arms spread. His anus was totally exposed. I caned him.

xxx xxx


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