Eric's Discipline


by Juan Santiago <Paliza3000@yahoo.com>

It was a huge mansion placed in the centre of gardens and fields as far as the eye could see. Upon my ring, a butler opened the massive doors and invited me into an entrance hall the size of my own flat. Its floor was apparently some expensive Italian marble and later on I would see large amounts of marble throughout the many rooms. Even my bathroom had a marble sink top.

The butler, a man of around fifty, greying hair and in the traditional butler uniform, showed me into a (relatively) smaller room and asked me to wait. I sat and inspected the paintings on the wall. They all seemed to be originals. Another door at the far side of the room was ajar and I heard the smacking, clapping noises one usually associates with a theatre audience. I stood up, stepped nearer the half-open door and listened. Now I could also distinguish a low moaning and it suddenly occurred to me that this was a child being punished.

I was curious and pushed the door a bit wider. I chuckled at the sight. I woman dressed in a long black gown had a young child across her lap whom she was in process of belabouring forcefully with a short, but quite thick leather strap. I couldnt see the childs face which was bent far down but I did see a bare pair of buttocks the colour of over-ripe tomatoes. I stood there for a few minutes and during all that time the vigorous application continued unabated.

Mr. Harris?- I heard a voice behind me and I turned, slightly embarrassed for having been discovered eavesdropping on this domestic scene.

Yes,- I mumbled. -Dr. Woodside, I'm sorry, but -

Oh, don't worry about this,- the doctor said, waving a hand in direction of the open door. "It's just Miss Withers punishing young Eric again. It's nothing unusual in this household, I can assure you.-

Eric is your son?- I asked.

No, he's the son of my brother-in-law who died a widower only a few months ago. He saddled me with this little brat. I had no choice in the matter, but I try and leave his education to the governess. As you can see, she is doing a fine job in keeping him in line. Unfortunately, the tutor had to leave. It seems he accepted another position in Australia. Says he has family there and wants to take the opportunity to settle there. And that is why you are here.-

How old is Eric?- I asked.

Just ten. But he is spoiled and ill-mannered. I don't have time to deal with naughty little boys. I leave this to you if you agree to take the position.-

May I talk to the boy?- I asked. I could hear that the punishment session next door was still in progress. The boy's moaning had gradually turned to loud sobs and pleas.

Let's wait until Miss Withers has finished with him. She doesn't like to be interrupted when she is inculcating some manners into the brat.-

He rang a bell and when the butler appeared, ordered us some tea. We sat and discussed the terms of our agreement. They seemed satisfactory.

You will, of course, have full authority over the boy. I will ask Miss Withers to respect your wishes when it concerns the boy's lessons and homework. And I will ask you to respect her area of expertise. I'm sure you two will be able to work out your respective responsibilities.-

Yes, I'd think so. Miss Withers seems to be a reasonable person who has the right attitude towards proper discipline for boys.-

Well, I'll leave the boy's discipline to you and her. I'm sure you, as experts, will do the right thing. I just want to be sure that I won't be bothered with the boy except for special, very serious matters.-

We waited, listening to the boy's cries getting louder and more frantic. But at last it stopped.

Miss Withers, please bring the boy in here,- my host called out.

Almost instantly a small blond boy was propelled into the room by an imposing Miss Withers. Eric turned out to be a slender little chap whose face just now was wet with tears, nose running, eyes red with swollen lids. His shorts were still tangled up around his feet and he almost fell before he regained his balance.

This is the new tutor,- the doctor continued.

Eric, go and shake hands with the gentleman. You will apologise for presenting yourself in this state,- Miss Withers said sharply, pushing the red-faced boy towards me.

I looked down at the disheveled child who was now extending a trembling little hand towards me. His face flushed a dark red.

I -- I'm sorry, sir,- he stuttered, obviously terribly embarrassed at being seen half naked in front of a stranger who was soon to be his tutor.

Next time it'll be the cane," Miss Withers said. -Pull up your shorts and brace them properly this time.-

Miss Withers,- the doctor said, ignoring the weeping boy now struggling with his trousers and braces. He seemed to have trouble getting the shorts over his sore behind. I had to smile at his predicament. -This is Mr. Harris who has agreed to take the position of Eric's tutor. I'm sure the two of you will get along splendidly.-

I hope you brought along a good supply of canes,- Miss Withers said as we shook hands. -Mine is about to split.-- Well, I'm afraid I haven't brought any with me just now," I laughed, -but I'll be sure to be properly prepared for the day I start my duties in this house. From the looks of it, the boy is in great need of a sound caning.

That he is,- Miss Withers agreed.

Can you start on Monday?- Dr. Woodside asked. He seemed anxious to leave and settle the matter of my employment.

Certainly. I'll just need a few days to settle my own affairs -- and to buy those new canes, of course.-

Eric had finally adjusted his clothes. I noticed that the braces were really much too tight and hauled his shorts sharply up between his legs. His fingers were busy tugging at the back. His face was sweaty and very red; he didn't look at us but kept his gaze on the carpet. I realised that he was actually quite an attractive little boy, slender but his bare legs were suntanned and sturdy.

Miss Withers took the boy by and ear and turned him around. "We will have to get back to our chores," she said. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Harris.-

I watched them leave, the boy walking awkwardly, with stiff legs, a bit of bare bottom, bruised and swollen, peeking coyly from below the hems of his brief, tight shorts. One small hand was plucking at the centre seam between his buttocks, the other trying to loosen the governess' hold on his ear. His round bottom seemed to be close to bursting out of the tight seat, each cheek well spread.

When I returned four days later, I was amused to find Miss Withers and Eric in the same situation as the first time. Eric's bottom was almost purple as Miss Withers whipped it with great enthusiasm. This time I joined them to watch. The punishment must have been going on for some time because the boy was dissolved in tears and his buttocks seemed to have swollen. Just five minutes later Miss Withers decided to stop. She picked the boy up and stood him onto his wobbly legs.

Ah, Mr. Harris. Welcome. I'll just show you to your room. You may want to unpack and wash up before seeing the boy in private. I just made sure he's in the right frame of mind for his first interview with his new tutor. A sore backside ensures a boy behaves properly.-

Thanks,- I laughed. -Yes, that will be very helpful.- I looked at the boy and smiled at his discomfort. I decided to be very strict with him.

I took my news instruments of discipline to the room arranged to be my study and the boys schoolroom. I made myself comfortable, placed the canes and tawses I had purchased on the wide desk and picked up the receiver of the telephone.

Miss Withers,- I said, -please bring the boy in.-

I was seated behind the desk when the boy was marched in. He still had trouble walking normally and he was obviously very reluctant to approach me.

Come here,- I said gruffly and made him stand closer. Miss Withers silently left the room, closing the door behind her.

I sat and looked the boy over, from head to foot and then back up again. I took my time. There was complete silence and after a minute or two, young Eric started to squirm and wriggle

Stand still,- I snapped at him. Several more minutes passed. I kept my eyes steadily on the boy until his face reddened and his ears began to burn. At last I picked up one of my newly acquired canes.

Do you know what this is, my boy?- I asked, swishing the cane so he could hear it whir through the air. His face dropped, the corners of his mouth turning down in a comic grimace.

Yes, sir,- he whispered. -Its a cane.-

Right you are. And what are canes used for?-

Erics face went even darker and he licked his lips. I had to smile at his worried expression.

For punishment,- he mumbled.

Yes, and who is going to be punished?-

I -- I --er -- d-dont know, sir.-

Oh, come on. Why do you think you are here? Just to keep me company? A stupid little boy like you?-

You are to punish me, sir?- he asked in a tremulous little squeak that made me smile.

Indeed I am, my boy,- I replied easily. -Hasnt Miss Withers told you that you are a very naughty little boy who needs regular canings?-

But, sir, she already beat me earlier today,- young Eric complained miserably. -Im still very sore.-

No matter. A cane is even more effective when firmly applied to an already well-spanked backside. But lets have a look first. Take those shorts down and turn around. Well see just how sore that bottom really is.-

The boy, like most boys who are systematically thrashed, quietly, resignedly, obeyed. He struggled with his tight braces which he first had to unbutton in front, then his fingers fumbled with the waistband, the seam in the seat had to be released from between the grip of his bottom cheek, but finally the small shorts were around his ankles. He turned.

Bend forward a bit,- I said and rose from my chair to approach the bending boy. I had a close look at the bruised little buttocks. The skin was scarlet all over the surface and towards the lower portions the flesh was bruised purple. It felt hot to much touch and I nodded, satisfied.

Yes, the bottom seems to be properly warmed up,- I said. -Bend over further, grasp your ankles and dont move. I will give you only six strokes since this is your first experience. But from now on, each caning will be more severe than the previous one. So be prepared.-

I took up my position, checked my aim and raised the cane. I waited, my eyes on the trembling red target. Then I brought the cane down with good force, slashing it into the bruised area. The boy jerked his head up and his bottom wiggled comically but Miss Withers had obviously warned him about maintaining his position throughout the disciplinary proceedings because he tried desperately to hold on to his ankles.

I let him wait to make sure he had absorbed the full effect of that first stroke. The next one would be harder. I intended it to land lower and work my way down the round curve towards his thighs. A few across the upper thighs would also be effective. I raised the cane once more and this time young Eric couldnt keep his hands from flying towards the injured parts. He cried out and grasped his wealed flesh.

You will maintain the proper position throughout,- I said, slashing the cane across his knuckles. He quickly withdrew his hands and bent over again, now sobbing wildly. -I will overlook the mistake this time, but dont let it happen again or you will get two extra strokes.-

I caned him low across the buttocks, almost touching the welt left by the preceding cut and Eric whimpered pathetically. He still had a lot to learn. Two more strokes and the boy once more found it impossible to stay bent. He released his ankles and raised his upper body mewing with pain.

Two extra strokes,- I said, and after the boy had resumed the required position, laid them one with extra juice. Eric wobbled back and forth but tried very hard to stay bent over. I gave him the rest across the thighs and was rewarded with some high-pitched howls. There was a very sore and swollen band across the lower buttocks and upper thighs. I try to keep the strokes within a certain small range, as closely together as possible. The result usually looks like a thick weal about three inches wide. The boy will find sitting most uncomfortable for the next few days.

Well, now you know how a cane feels,- I said with a grin. -Lets hope you will remember it for a long time so I wont have to use it too frequently. Miss Withers will let me know if you misbehave and I will let you know when Im dissatisfied with your studies. Im afraid your little backside is going to be in for a great deal of pain in the days to come. Be prepared.-


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