Private Tuition (3) by Tim Anders

Copyright Tim Anders © 2000

Andy would have loved to stay on and find out what happened when Craig called Ivar, but he didn't want to risk being drawn into any more spankings. He was still in shock as he rode his bike back to the Hall of Residence. Luckily, the sting of those stripes from Craig's cane on his bare bottom had already faded and sitting on the saddle didn't cause him any discomfort.

His little mate was stirring again as he reviewed the events of the afternoon, and several times he had to force himself to concentrate on the traffic as he rode along. The sight of Ivar having to bare his bum and bend over to be caned, had turned one of Andy's favourite wanking dreams into a stark reality that beat all fantasies.

The prospect of canings as part of his course of tutorials caused him concern but, as much as he feared the cane, his little mate was clearly looking forward to it. Those three whacks Craig had given him across his bum, were a real turn-on, well - at least in retrospect. Maybe it was because Craig was such a spunk? Whatever it was, if he had to submit to corporal punishment, he'd rather have his bottom spanked by that _s_e_x_y Craig than anyone else.

Coach Harris for instance was using his cane on the guys' bums very liberally for all kinds of reasons, but he wasn't anywhere near as _s_e_x_y as that Craig. Luckily Andy was one of the few who had so far escaped the coach's cane which was feared by all because it had a nasty sting. No, getting caned by him wouldn't be any fun, even in retrospect.

The romp with Craig on the classroom floor had been as wild and delicious as it was unexpected, and Andy was relishing the memory. The only _s_e_x_ he'd ever had was with his best mate Steve at school, but that never went beyond kissing and a mutual wank. He did feel guilty about Steve and would confess to him when he got home for the semester break. Steve would probably give him a hand spanking as they had often done as kids, when they were still at school together, but hell, he was in love with Steve and didn't want to ruin their plans for the future. Andy pushed these thoughts aside for the time being, because he sensed there would probably be other times when he'd succumb to Craig's _s_e_x_ appeal - and Craig to his.

As soon as he got to his room, he stripped off and inspected his chastised backside in the long mirror in the wardrobe door. He was disappointed to find that the stripes the cane had produced on his buns were not the deep scarlet he had expected, but only a pale red, and all those hand spanks Craig had landed on his bare bottom had only resulted in a slight pink tinge. At the same time he was also grateful because by tomorrow everything would have faded further, saving him from embarrassment at the pool.

He had a quick shower and as he was getting dressed there was a knock on the door. Darren from the basketball club let himself in to tell Andy there was a practice session at 7 p. m. and he was needed.

"No worries," Andy said, "I'll be there." Then it hit him. "_s_h_i_t_! I can't, mate, sorry."

"What d'you mean you can't?" Darren looked at him in disbelief. He knew Andy wouldn't miss practice if he had a broken leg, he'd still come and watch.

"That is what I mean. I can't. I'm really sorry, mate, but I have to drop basketball at least till the end of the year."

"You're joking!"

"Wish I was, mate."

"W-what happened, you sick or something?"

"I told you, I have to drop it till the end of the year."

"Says who?"

"Says Craig."

"Who's he when he's at home?"

"My tutor."

"Never heard of him, you're making that up."

"I'm not! He's not here at Uni, he's a private tutor."

"C'mon, tell uncle Darry the truth, your chick working ya too hard, is she?"

"No!!" Andy was getting angry, "there's no bloody chick." He spat out the last word.

"Well whatever it is, I reckon it's pretty bloody lousy to let the team down like that." Darren was at a loss, this was not the Andy he knew.

"I don't see why it's such a big deal. I mean, I'm not even part of the regular teams."

"You should be. You're better than many of the regulars and you know it."

"C'mon, get real, mate! I'm nowhere in the same class with Barry and you."

"Don't change the subject. Regular or not, you know _d_a_m_n_ well you still have to practice. You know what happens if you don't, I mean without a good excuse."

"I also know what happens if I do," Andy spurted out and immediately regretted it.

"What are you talking about, mate, come on, spit it out."

"Well, I've been getting really lousy marks lately, and I've been sent to this tutor who is supposed to get excellent results, guaranteed to get me through."

"Great! He'll get you through. Terrific. So, what's the problem?"

"He insists I need more time to study, and he wants me to give up basketball."

"Just like that, eh?"

"Look mate, I don't like it either, I'd much rather be playing, but he does have a point."

"What did you mean before when you said you know what happens if you do come to practice? I mean what's he going to do? Spank your little bottie? In that case you can't win mate, coz you know Harris is going to use the yellow peril on your arse if you don't show up."

Andy just nodded, blushing to right behind his ears, and Darren realised he'd hit the nail on the head. "Don't tell me . . . " he said, and the well packed front of his jeans seemed to grow at an alarming rate. Suddenly it dawned on him, "hey, you're not going to that crazy Craig, are you? I've heard about him. Swings a mean cane, they say."

"He does," said Andy, "and he's not crazy, and if you so much as breathe a word about this, I'll squash your bloody balls to a pulp, before I cut'em off, got it?"

"Geez, mate, I'm sorry, but you haven't got much of a choice have ya? You'll get a sore bum either from that Craig or from Harris."

"I was going to have a talk with Harris about dropping out for the rest of the year. I mean, if I explain it all to him, he'll understand. - Won't he?"

"Well, coach isn't going to be too happy, mate. I think you should come to practice tonight and talk to him then. I wouldn't just stay away if I was you. He'll blister yer bum next time he gets hold of ya, and he's got a long memory, mate."

"What's the point of practicing, but, if I'm not going to play for the rest of the year?"

"It's the principle, mate, you got to show up and face him. Everyone else gets punished for not showing up, he can't just let you off."

"I suppose," Andy rationalised, "I'm not really starting with Craig till tomorrow . . ."

"Now yer talking, mate! Come down tonight and talk to Harris after practice."

"Ok, I'll do it. I'm not sure if Craig would be happy about it . . . "

"Well, he doesn't have to know, does he," Darren cut in before Andy could change his mind.

"Suppose not . . . " Andy mumbled to himself

"Catch ya later mate," and Darren was out the door.

As he approached the big sports complex, whose many halls and rooms were used by a wide variety of sports groups, Andy had a weird feeling in his stomach.

He kept telling himself he wasn't doing anything wrong, but deep down he had that sinking feeling that Craig wouldn't agree and take a dim view of his presence here tonight. Maybe he should have rung him. Maybe Harris will let him off if the talks to him before practice . . .

As it turned out, Coach Harris had sent a message to Barry, captain of one of the two teams and assistant coach, saying he'd be late and telling him to take over until he got there. Andy wondered if he should have a word with Barry, but decided against it. Barry was good looking hunk but he was so overbearing, Andy didn't like him much.

He joined in the warm-ups and the practice game, but he was too worried and his heart wasn't in it, and it showed. After a while, Barry stopped the game and took Andy aside, wanting to know what was wrong with him. Not only was this unlike the usual full-on Andy, but the game on Saturday was going to be bloody hard and important, and the guys needed to be stretched to the limit. Andy told him he was a little distracted because he had a problem.

"Distracted," jeered Barry, "you're a bloody disgrace, mate. We'll talk about your problem later, if you want. If any of these guys has to drop out on Saturday, you're in. So, right now I want you to concentrate on the _f_u_c_k_in' game and make these guys work to their limits. You're good at that, so do it or else."

Andy explained, "I'm sorry, Bazza, but it looks like I'll have to give it away and this is going to be my last practice for a long while . . .

"I don't give a _f_u_c_k_," shouted Barry, "that's no reason to bugger up everyone else. These guys have got to be the best on Saturday, and you're not helping them. Whether you play on Saturday or not, you're still part of it, mate, we depend on you working your guts out, like everyone else, got it?"

"I guess so. Ill try."

"You'll do better than try, mate. Just remember, only because Harris isn't here, doesn't mean your bum's safe from the stick."

Andy gulped, "what're you talking about? You can't cane me, you got no authority!"

Barry bristled "wanna bet?"

"You'll lose, if Harris finds out."

"You questioning my authority?"

"No, but coach is the only one allowed to give corporal punishment."

"Says who?"

"Don't know, it's always been like that."

"Well I got news for you, mate, I can and I will."

"Coach never said that."

"If he was here, you'd be buck naked over his desk already, instead of arguing legal points."

"Yeah, but you're not coach."

"I'm here in his place, and I'll prove it to ya."

"You gonna give me the stick?" Andy sensed this was all going the wrong way.

"You bet! Get your arse into the office NOW!" Andy tried once more to protest, but only got deeper into trouble. Barry was not going to be dissuaded.

"Get movin', mate," he shouted, "I'll show ya what I can and can't do!" He grabbed Andy's shoulder and shoved him towards Harris's room.

The other guys had heard the shouting but kept their distance, They were only too aware, as was Andy himself, what was about to happen. Most of them had felt Harris's cane on their backsides, some more often than others, some were almost 'regulars'. Andy was one the two or three who'd been spared so far, but they also knew they weren't perfect and their time would come. Andy's time was about to arrive.

Inside the glassed-in office, Barry told Andy to strip, as he went to the locker where the coach kept his cane. It was locked. "Dammit!" Andy just stood there, still not quite believing what was happening. Barry turned around and saw he hadn't moved, "I told you to strip, you've seen it often enough, what're you waiting for?"

Andy stripped down to nothing. He'd seen his mates in this predicament and knew there was no way out except running, and that wasn't really an option. Barry rummaged around in the desk drawers, looking for the locker key, but couldn't find it. He did find a 4 cm wide belt, which used to be Harris's discipline tool until about a year ago when he abandoned it for the newly acquired cane, known and feared by the guys as 'the yellow peril'.

Barry snapped the belt, he was on a power trip and really enjoying this. It had been a long time since he had tanned someone's backside, especially such an attractive one. "You understand why you're being punished?"

"Because you reckon I didn't give my best out there."

"No, mate, that's not it. I'd have let that pass in view of your excellent record, if you'd done as you were told instead of opening your big gob."

"Sorry, Sir."

"I will not tolerate insubordination or undisciplined behaviour during training, is that clear?"

Standing there, buck naked, Andy felt extremely vulnerable with that evil belt swinging from Barry's hand. "Yes, I'm sorry," was all he managed to say.

"You've had a clean slate till now, but if you misbehave you're punished like everyone else," the belt in his hand did another snap,

"I guess that's fair."

"You bet it is, mate! Pity the stick's in the locker, but this'll do." The belt went SNAP. Andy wondered if coach had locked the cane away so Barry couldn't use it, but was careful not to say it. "It'll get the message across. I should know, I've been belted with it often enough."

Andy always had an eye for good looking guys, and the image of Barry bent over the desk and getting his bare bum belted, stirred his little mate whose tip was already beginning to poke through the foreskin opening. He felt embarrassed and was almost relieved when Barry told him to bend over the desk.

Once in position, offering his bottom for punishment, Andy grabbed the edges of the desk and hung on like grim death. For a fleeting moment he reflected on the fact that today had been rather eventful, but then the belt hit his bottom THWACK. Andy hissed as he took in his breath, he wasn't going to yell if he could help it. THWACK, the next one landed, but he gritted his teeth. He had no idea how many lashes Barry had planned for him, and here came WHACK, THWACK, CRACK, three in quick succession.

"AARRGH!!" Andy couldn't keep quiet any longer. There was a pause and Andy wondered if this was it.

"How many was that?" Barry demanded.

"Five, Sir," Andy managed to say in a strained voice.

THWACK, another one landed on his bottom. "OOOW" He was close to tears.

"How many?"

"Six, Sir."

"Ok, keep counting." WHACK.

"Aargh! Seven, Sir."

"And three more," announced Barry. Andy wondered how he'd last, but he didn't have much time to think, as they landed on his bum in quick succession.

"OOWOWOW, - that's ten, Sir."

"Ok, get up and put your shorts on."

Somewhat stunned, Andy stood up and rubbed his throbbing bottom. The pain from the belt was different, more spread out, and maybe not as sharp as the more localised strokes from Craig's cane, but hell, it hurt!!

He'd almost forgotten that after a spanking you forfeited your shirt or tank top and spent the rest of the session wearing shorts only. Having to play bare chested was intended to embarrass the 'delinquent', because everyone watching, or passing through, recognised this as a sign that he had been disciplined and was sporting a well tanned backside.

The guys out on the court were all looking in the direction of the glassed-in office. How many times had he himself stood out there with them as Harris's cane slammed into someone else's backside. Andy remembered how his little mate always stood to attention at such times and wondered how many of his mates had bulges in their baggy shorts right now.

At such times he had often wondered how the delinquent must feel. Well. now he knew the pain and the embarrassment of having to face his mates after a spanking. Sure, they were all in it together, but he still blushed at the thought of having to walk out to them and grin.

In his shorts only, Andy returned to his mates who patted him on the back, assuring him of their support. He had finally joined the brotherhood of spanked bottoms. Barry cut them short, and they resumed training. Needless to say, Andy with his sore bum was brilliant.

He forgot all about his problem with Craig, he wasn't even embarrassed about his bare chest and bystanders drawing the obvious conclusions. Both teams felt they'd really achieved something by the end of the session, not least thanks to Andy exerting himself to the limit. Barry said he was so proud of Andy, he was almost sorry he belted him, but if that's what it took to bring out the best, he'd do it again, looking meaningfully at everyone standing round.

Afterwards in the showers with the usual horseplay and bum slapping, Andy's cute bum was inspected for evidence of the belting, and the consensus was that he got off lightly by comparison with what some of them had suffered from the 'yellow peril' on similar occasions.

An announcement over the PR system said Harris was back and wanted to see them all before they went home. Andy hurried to get dressed, maybe he could talk to him before the others got there. He turned around the corner and stopped dead as he saw someone with Harris who looked awfully familiar. _s_h_i_t_! That couldn't be Craig, could it? What the hell was he doing here? Andy was in two minds whether to turn and run, but they had already seen him.

He bravely walked to the office and coach Harris waved him right in. "Come on in, Andy, had a good game? Meet Craig, our new discipline man."

Well that was it! Andy looked at the visitor, "Craig! What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, mate," countered Craig.

"I-I um-er wanted to tell coach I couldn't play any more for a while."

"For a long while, mate." Craig looked at Harris, "Andy's one of the students I told you about. He has to give up some of his sports so he gets more time to study. He didn't like it much, but he knows the alternative."

"I got a pretty good idea what the alternative is," said Harris with a grin.

"You're not wrong there. Works like a charm. He's had a taste of it already," then to Andy, "haven't you, mate?" Andy nodded, wishing he could be somewhere else.

"I won't pretend I'm not upset about this. Andy is a great asset, but he's always been more committed to his swimming and tennis, so he plays with us only as an emergency, which means he has to train regularly and -"

" - which is why he has to pull out," Craig completed the sentence.

"And that's what you came to tell me?" Harris asked Andy.

"Yes, coach."

"Well, I'm sorry to lose you, mate, you've been working well with us. I always hoped you'd become one of our regulars."

"I'd like that, but - " he was looking at Craig, "I won't have the time."

"Well, drop in whenever you feel like it, mate."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Craig interrupted, "not for a long time. First I've got to get him back to where he can pass his exams, and that's gonna be hard work."

"Ah! In that case, I'll see you around, mate. Sorry you got a sore arse on your last day."

Uggs!! Andy had carefully avoided the topic. "Yeah, well, I - er didn't know you knew."

"Everybody was talking about it in the locker room as we passed through, didn't they, Craig?"

"Sure did, I didn't realise they were talking about my mate here. Must have made quite a splash. Your first time was it?" Andy nodded.

"I'm a bit concerned about this," said the coach, "for several reasons. One, I had locked the cane away, two, I can't find anything in the book and - er - want to tell me what happened?"

Andy decided to tell them all about his divided loyalties and how he was roped into training with the guys and then got into trouble for talking back to the captain. He also said he felt he couldn't win. He'd get the stick from coach if he didn't turn up and from Craig if he did.

"But you did turn up anyway," said Craig.

"Yeah, I was hoping maybe today doesn't count, seeing I'm starting with you only tomorrow. I know it's a pretty weak argument - - -" he looked at Craig, hoping for leniency.

"Weak?" said Craig, "it's positively feeble." But he had an ever so slight grin on his face. He'd become very fond of Andy in a very short time, just had to be careful not to let it interfere with his discipline. "We'll be discussing that further," he finally said, and Andy's heart sank.

In the meantime, Barry came to the door, saying both teams had assembled on the court. He looked a bit uncomfortable when he realised Andy was talking to the coach.

"Come in," said Harris, "meet Craig, the discipline guy I told you about. Andy, go tell the guys I'll be talking to them in a few minutes, and come back here."

"G'day," said Barry cagily as they shook hands. He'd not been in favour of 'outsourcing' the discipline to an expert, but the Committee was unanimously in favour of a year's trial.

"Hi," said Craig, "Andy been giving you trouble, I hear?"

Barry's face darkened. "He been blabbing, has he?" Andy was just returning from delivering coach's message and Barry turned on him, "been shootin' yer mouth off, have ya?"

"Hey, hey," shouted Harris, "settle down, son. He didn't have to, it was all over the locker room, but I have a few problems. For starters, the cane was locked away." He looked at Barry, waiting for an explanation.

"Yeah, I realised that, coach. But I found your old belt, so I used that."

"You what??"

"He had to be taught a lesson, coach."

"Where did you find the belt?"

"In your desk, coach." This was looking bad, so he added, "I was only looking for the locker key to get the cane out."

"So you rummaged through MY desk without my permission, and you thrashed Andy with that old belt, although you knew it was no longer to be used." Barry noticed with concern that the coach was writing things on his note pad.

"As I said, coach, he needed to be taught a lesson, and the cane was locked away."

"And it didn't occur to you there might be good reasons why it's locked away?" Barry looked at his feet, he knew the answer but kept silent. He also knew he was going to feel the 'yellow peril' before the night was out. "You're not meant to cane anybody unless I specifically tell you to, you bloody well know that," the coach continued.

"Well, you weren't here, to do it yourself or give me permission," Barry tried to defend his actions, "and we've always followed a policy that punishments are done on the spot."

"When I'm here, they are, and when I'm not, you either get prior instructions or punishment is held over till I return. Did I give you any instructions?"

"No, but I assumed I was in full command, including discipline, when you said to take over."

Harris kept writing on his notepad, "well, you better read the manual again."

"Yes, Sir."

"One more thing!"

Barry was beginning to realise this was not just routine, he was in serious trouble. Andy, being at the centre of it, felt uncomfortable, while Craig was having a ball. He didn't like that good looking but shifty bastard from the moment he came in. Craig enjoyed seeing Barry squirm.

"If you really believed you had the authority," the coach carried on, "why isn't there an entry in the punishment book?"

"Er um - I was going to . . ."

"I want the truth!" Harris shouted.

"I forgot."

"Conveniently, because you'd have to admit using the belt and that wouldn't look so good?" Barry didn't answer. "No answer, ok. You will be severely punished for your lack of leadership and self-discipline."

Barry was about to protest, but thought better of it. "Yes, Sir."

"Ok, captain, it's pre-punishment mode for you, while I deal with another little matter."

"What, - now?" Barry was shocked.

Harris had pulled the belt out of the drawer and let it snap, "do you need encouragement?"

"No, Sir!" While Barry stripped off all his clothes Harris turned his attention back to Andy.

"You said Bazza thrashed you for talking back."

"Yeah, he did. I questioned his authority to cane me for not pulling my weight, as he saw it."

"Is this the belt he used on your bum?"

"I think so, coach."

Barry was now completely naked and had assumed the prescribed pre-punishment stance, ie. standing at attention, hands by his side. "Excuse me, Sir." he interrupted.

"Yes, Barry?"

"I am ready, as ordered. Awaiting punishment, Sir "

"Good, don't move."

No Sir."

"We'll deal with you when we're ready."

"Yes, Sir." Barry did not like this one bit, even less with Andy and Craig present. As the coach had intended, he felt extremely humiliated, with the beneficial side effect of giving him time to reflect contemplate how he got himself into this position.

Harris turned back to Andy. "As you saw it, did you pull your weight, and if not why not? You're always so full-on, too full-on sometimes." The last remark was directed at Craig.

"Maybe I didn't because I was worrying about what I told you before."

"Did you tell him that?

"Yes, he said he didn't give a _f_u_c_k_, all I had to do was think about the training."

"So, do you think you deserved to be punished for not giving your best?"

"I think so, and I shouldn't have talked back, either."

Andy knew he was talking himself into more trouble, but he suddenly felt reckless. With all this talk about spanking, his little mate was in uproar and demanded a piece of the action, however much his bum would regret it later.

"Well, that's honest enough," said the coach, "Craig, I'll leave that in your capable hands."

At that moment the caretaker arrived, saying everyone else had gone and he wanted to lock up, but Harris pleaded urgent business. Seeing Barry in a situation he recognised, he grinned and said he could see it was urgent, and he'd give them another half hour to get it done.

With the whole building empty, Harris told Barry he would be disciplined out on the court, with both teams present, and to ask one of the guys to help him set up a suitable table or other structure for his punishment. This was clearly calculated to embarrass him further, which is why Barry said he'd rather do it on his own.

Harris grabbed the belt, "did you hear what I said?" he demanded.

"I did, but -"

"Bend over!"

"But - -"

"Bend over!!!" The belt struck Barry's thigh.

"OOOWW!!" he yelped, but he did bend over.

"This -" CRACK (right across both cheeks)

Barry was not making another noise, except sucking air in through his teeth.

" - will help - " CRACK (again)

"you remember - " CRACK

"to bloody do" CRACK "as you're told" CRACK, CRACK

"AARGH!!"

"and as you're expecting" CRACK "others to do" CRACK, CRACK

"Now get out and do as I told you, or else!!" and he sent him off with a final slap. Barry moved very quickly, rubbing his buns and was observed talking to the guys and then disappearing with one of them down the hall, searching for the required furniture.

Harris turned back to Craig, "sorry, but he is a tough customer."

"Don't apologise," said Craig, "I enjoyed every minute of it. Can't wait to give him a taste of the cane."

"Well, that won't be long, he can be your first client in your new job tonight. But I expect you want to deal with Andy before that." He opened the locker and handed Craig the 'yellow peril', a very slim and supple cane, no more than 80 cm long.

"Ah, I see you're a connoisseur after my own heart," Craig waxed lyrical, flexing and almost caressing the rod capable of causing so much discomfort, as if it was a fragile ornament. "The only way of chastising deserving young bottoms without disfiguring their beauty."

Harris looked a little uncomfortable, not quite sure if Craig had gone bananas. "Yeah, well," he said, "I've found the thin, flexible ones much more satisfactory. They pack a punch at the time but they don't leave marks that are still there when you got to thrash that same arse again a couple of days later."

"Yes," agreed Craig, realising that, while they were talking about the same thing, his eulogy had somehow been lost. Well, back to more mundane matters.

Andy had, with some alarm and simultaneous tingling anticipation, watched and listened to his 'case' being discussed by Craig and Harris. As a result, he was not unduly surprised when Craig told him to "strip off," swishing the 'yellow peril' at the same time. He knew his backside was in for a very unpleasant experience. Even his little mate shrank in awe and its head disappeared under that lovely protective hood. But Andy knew it would be a mistake to cross his tutor and was ready in no time for what he knew was coming to him.

"I'll make this short and painful," Craig said, "I won't punish you for what happened here during training. You got a thrashing for that and that'll do as far as I'm concerned." He looked at coach Harris, who shook his head. "But," Craig continued, "you've gone against my order to stop playing basketball. I'll give you some mitigating points for good intentions, but the fact remains, you disobeyed my order. So, you'll get ten strokes of this exquisite cane, which I am sure will bring the message home. Bend over the desk."

Andy yelled out loud after the first stroke hit his already tender backside. There was no doubt, Craig wasn't holding back but applying the 'yellow peril' to its full capacity. The next three followed in quick succession and Andy was already in tears. But he held on to the desk, gritting his teeth, determined not to fall apart. Five, Six, Seven!! "AARGH" he couldn't contain himself any longer, his legs were kicking up in the air, but he still held on to the desk Eight! Nine! Ten! "OWMEGAWD!!" were that the cherubim or the seraphim he was hearing? Probably bloody both!

He felt Craig's hand on his shoulder and stood up to face the coach and Craig who gave him a bear hug and rubbed his very sore bottom, then with a slap told him to get dressed and join the rest of the guys on the court.

Harris had been watching the no-holds-barred caning of Andy and was impressed. "If that's the way you're going to treat our guys," he said, chuckling, "they'll all be bloody saints before the year's out."

Craig laughed and promised to do his best. "How about introducing me to them now," he suggested, "so I get to now their faces before their arses."

"That's the plan," said Harris, "and then we'll deal with Barry, who seems to have just about set the scene for his moment of truth."

Indeed, Barry, looking magnificent in all his nakedness, was approaching the office to tell the coach he was ready . . . . . . .