"So, your father has asked me to make this a punishment weekend for you, Adrian."
"Yes Sir."
Adrian was 13, blonde haired, blue-eyed, still puppyish and well-rounded, smooth-skinned and almost feminine. The school uniform was grey shorts and socks, white shirt, yellow and black tie, black lace-up shoes.
It was Saturday, 09.00. Adrian had slept in a spare bedroom in his headmaster's house, in the grounds of the day school. He had been woken at 07.30, told to shower and dress, had his breakfast and been taken across to the head's study.
"And he has told us both that I may punish you in any way I choose, with any implement and by any means I choose, dressed or undressed howsoever?"
"Yes Sir."
"And you have agreed to this, on the understanding that if you fail to do as you are told and take your punishment as a man, you will be disgraced, having to leave this school forever?"
"Yes, Sir." Adrian hung his head.
"So the fact is, Adrian, that after all your mischief, and given your desire to stay at this school and not risk your family's retribution, I have you totally and utterly within my power. Even if you told your father what I did - and even assuming he disapproved - you have lied so much in the last year that he would not believe you. Am I correct?"
Adrian shivered. "Yes Sir."
"How splendid. The ultimate revenge. And I promise you, Adrian, that you will pay dearly for your need to stay here. Your body and mind are entirely mine, for two long days. Take off your shoes."
"My shoes?"
"Yes, your shoes, take them off and give them to me."
Adrian took off his leather shoes and handed them to his headmaster who put them in a drawer in his desk.
"You know, Adrian, no-one comes here at weekends. There is no-one to rescue you and there is no escape. Lie on your stomach along the top of my desk and face me, where I am sitting."
Adrian nervously scrambled onto the leather-topped desk, and lay on his stomach, turning his head to the right and looking backwards to where his headmaster sat.
"See, Adrian, where my hand hovers, just a little above the seat of your school shorts. See where it descends, onto your shorts seat, on top of your bottom." Adrian's headmaster stroked Adrian's well-rounded young bottom. "This is your bottom, Adrian, and you bottom is mine. Who owns your bottom?"
"You do Sir."
"Yes I do. Say,'You own my bottom, Sir.' "
"You own my bottom, Sir."
"Say, 'You can do anything you like with my bottom, Sir'."
"You can do anything you like with my bottom, Sir."
"I can, yes, Adrian." Adrian's Headmaster squeezed each protuberant buttock hard, until Adrian winced with pain. "Excellent!" he said sadistically, smacking each cheek twice, very hard. "Wonderful!" He smacked each cheek twice more. "Thank me. Say 'Thank you, Sir, for giving me a sore bottom'."
"Thank you, Sir, for giving me a sore bottom."
"That's fine, Adrian, little Adrian, small boy Adrian, come off the desk and follow me."
The Headmaster led Adrian, in his grey school socks, out of his study, down a corridor and up a flight of stairs unknown to Adrian. Two floors up, there was a wooden-floored corridor with a row of closed doors leading off it. They stopped at one door, which the headmaster unlocked, leading Adrian in and shutting and locking the door after them.
The room contained: an iron bedstead, its mattress covered by a white sheet, with two pillows, each with white pillowslips; a white wrought-iron bath and a white ceramic washbasin; a white ceramic toilet with a black toilet seat; various chairs, stools and cupboards. There were mirrors, free-standing spotlights and cameras on tripods. Perhaps most remarkable of all were the posters on the walls: they were all black-and-white photographs of young boys, in various states of undress, some even with erections. Adrian's eyes opened wide with shock. He was not a worldly-wise boy, however, so he did not draw the most obvious inferences about the likely intentions of his captor.
"Now Adrian," his headmaster said, "remind me who owns your body."
"You do, Sir."
"And who owns your little boy bottom?"
"You, Sir."
"I do. I am emperor of all I survey, Adrian." The Headmaster sat on a bathstool. "Come, stand before me."
Adrian stood in front of his headmaster who opened his headmasterly thighs and draw him still closer. He reached upward and unknotted Adrian's tie, letting it fall to the ground. "I don't think you will be needing this," he said. He unbuttoned Adrian's school shirt, revealing the white T-shirt beneath. "Turn round", he said.
Adrian turned. His headmaster pulled his shirt out of his shorts and gently withdrew it from his shoulders, allowing it to drop to the floor on top of Adrian's tie. He placed his arms around Adrian's waist from behind and stroked the front of his T-shirt over his stomach. "Even your stomach is mine now," he said. "Say, 'I give you my belly, Sir'."
"I give you my belly, Sir."
"Now say, 'And soon I'll give you my willy, Sir'."
This felt really strange to Adrian. What did it mean? But he repeated it.
Adrian's Headmaster let his hands move down over the front of Adrian's shorts, still from behind, until he contacted and was able to squeeze the small tube he rightly judged to be Adrian's dick.
Adrian gasped.
"Is this your willy, Adrian?" his headmaster said.
"Yes, Sir. Please.. could you not...?"
"Ah but Adrian, remember, you gave me your willy. Say 'Thank you, Sir, for looking after my Willy'."
Adrian was speechless.
"Oh dear, Adrian, do I have to cane you for insubordination?" His headmaster continued to tickle Adrian's willy. "Say, 'Thank you, Sir, for looking after my willy'."
Adrian submitted. "Thank you, Sir, for looking after my willy." Adrian blushed bright red.
"Well done! Come, sit on my knee."
Adrian turned and sat across his headmaster's knee. His headmaster reached down and removed each of his grey school socks in turn, so he was barefoot. Then he undid the boy's belt, top snap and flies. "Ah," he said, "white underpants. My favourite. Say, 'You can keep my underpants, Sir'."
"You can keep my underpants, Sir."
"Thank you, Adrian, I will, I will! Stand up a moment. Good boy!" He pulled Adrian's unresisting shorts to his ankles. "Now step out of them," he commanded.
Adrian stepped out of his school shorts, leaving them on the floor. Now, he wore only his white T-shirt, tucked tastefully into his white cotton underpants.
"Oh yes!" Adrian's headmaster exclaimed, "Come and kneel on the bed here."
He had Adrian kneel on the bed, facing the head of the bed, his head in his hands, his arse in the air. Standing facing Adrian's flank at the side of the bed, he placed one hand over Adrian's bottom, so that his middle finger could press the white cotton into Adrian's cleft and up onto his anus. He had hs finger stroke up and down over the boy's aperture, then let his hand rove downward between Adrian's legs to cup his scrotum. "Your balls, Adrian," he whispered, "are all mine for two days. Now, " he said, "let's re-arrange you so you're lying over these two pillows."
His Headmaster had Adrian lie over the pillows, still facing the head of the bedstead, in such a way that his cotton-clad bum was well raised up. "A little punishment, I think," he said. "A warm-up." He withdrew a wooden stick from a tall cupboard and started to thwack it across Adrian's buttocks, not at all hard, but often enough to begin to make Adrian's arse feel distinctly uncomfortable.
Adrian's headmaster was Tantalus embodied. He stopped before Adrian screamed and stroked the boy's hotter bot over the fabric of his undies. "Mmm," he murmured, "A nice hot little boybot, all mine, all mine." He gathered his hands around the elasticated waistband of Adrian's pants and drew them to his ankles and off at some speed. "At last, I review my property!" he said, lifting the boy's T-shirt and rubbing his bare red buttocks vigorously. "I think you can do without this," he said, removing the T-shirt, "but, we will give you a substitute. Sit up on the bed."
Adrian sat up and his headmaster went to a cupboard and withdrew a short, bright pink leather singlet. He returned to where the boy sat, his hands modestly covering his genitals. "Hands in the air," he said.
Adrian lifted his hands, squeezing his thighs together in embarrassment, and his headmaster placed the singlet over his arms and pulled it onto his body. It left nothing to the imagination, having holes for his breasts and stopping at the level of him tummy-button. "Such a sweet little boy!" he exclaimed. "Now," he said, "I think we will clean you thoroughly."
And, with that, he had the boy lie on his side on the bed, his knees drawn up, and inserted a lubricated enema nozzle, filling Adrian's bowels with warm water, until he felt near to bursting and his dick was rock hard. His Headmaster led him to the toilet, humiliated him by watching him evacuate, flushed the toilet and repeated the exercize all over again.
"Now it's your bathtime," he said, beginning to run a bath. He gave Adrian a thorough soaping in the bath, paying special attention to his penis and anus. Then he helped him out, dried him, languidly, and powdered him with scented talc. At the end, Adrian was rock hard once again.
"Right, Adrian," his Headmaster said, taking some pink, fluffy slippers from a drawer, "Put these on and follow me."
Adrian donned the slippers and followed his headmaster back downstairs and along a corridor to the older boys' common room. He ushered Adrian in, where, to Adrian's horror, there were three sixteen year old boys, in school uniform. "Very well, gentlemen," he said. "Adrian is yours to punish as you see fit, for the whole afternoon..."
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