"Sir, I didn't do it."

"You know that's not true, tell the truth."

"I didn't!"

"Tell the truth Jerome."

"Well I didn't mean to."

"So you did."

"Well I did, but I didn't mean to."

"Tell the truth, Jerome."

"I didn't mean to."

"Tell the truth. You did it. Just say you did it. Admit it. Get it over with."

"I did it. ALL RIGHT! I did it! But I don't deserve this."

"You don't deserve what?"

"What you said I'd get."

"What's that? Go on. Say it, Jerome."

"In front of everyone."

"What in front of everyone? Say what."

"Getting spanked."

...

(You need to understand the scene. Jerome is 14. He was in my study. I am a Headmaster. He is my pupil. His father was there. So was James, who is 13, the victim of Jerome's bullying. So was my colleague, Mr Masters; and so were two eleven year old miscreants, still in grey shorts, there to understand what happens to those who misbehave in my establishment.)

...

"I think it's going to be rather more than getting spanked, Jerome. You remember the warning?"

"Sir, please don't."

"Please don't what Jerome?"

"You know, Sir. Please."

"Tell us, Jerome. Tell us what you don't want us to do."

"You know, Sir."

"I may know, but not everyone knows, Jerome. Tell us what you don't want to happen."

...

(Perhaps I should describe Jerome, as I remember him now, in my mind's eye, standing before my desk in my study that evening. Jerome has lustrous black hair, brown eyes, smooth suntanned skin. He is slender, though not thin. He was wearing his school uniform, minus blazer: thus, white shirt, yellow and black diagonally striped tie, black long trousers, grey socks, black leather shoes. And as we talked, he was rubbing his thighs together, quite unconsciously, in acute embarrassment...)

...

"Please, Sir, don't ask me to say."

"Tell us. Now, Jerome. What did we say we would do? Go on. Hurry up. Tell us."

"Spank me, Sir."

"Stop prevaricating! Where? On what part of your body?"

He hung his head. "On my bottom, Sir."

"With your trousers on?"

"No Sir."

"With your trousers off?"

"Yes Sir."

"With your underpants on?"

"No Sir," he whispered.

"With your underpants off?"

"Yes Sir."

"With your shirt and tie on?"

"No Sir."

"With your T-shirt on?"

"No Sir."

"With your socks and shoes on?"

"No Sir."

"Naked, in fact?"

"Yes Sir."

"Then you're asking me not to take all your clothes off?"

"Yes Sir."

"Ask me, Jerome. Go on."

"Please don't take all my clothes off, Sir."

"Request refused. Take off your shoes."

"Sir!"

"Hurry up. Take them off, Jerome."

He stopped and unlaced his shoes, kicking them off.

"Now your tie and shirt."

He undid his tie, his hands visibly shaking. He removed it and put it on a chair. He unbuttoned his shirt as far as it went, then pulled it out of his trousers and finished unbuttoning. He removed it. He wore a white T-shirt.

"Andrew Jones, come out and stand by Jerome."

The 11 year old did so. He looked sweet and angelic, curly light brown hair.

"Take off Jerome's trousers."

"Please Sir," Jerome begged.

Andrew held back.

"Take off your own trousers, Andrew."

"My trousers, Sir?"

"Yes, take them off."

Shocked little Andrew took off his shorts.

"Bend across my desk."

Andrew bent across my desk. I pulled back his shirt to reveal his little white briefs. "Now Jerome, would you like me to beat Andrew's little bottom for disobeying me?"

Jerome looked horrified. "No Sir."

"Then let Andrew remove your trousers. Andrew, you can keep your shorts off in case I decide to punish you later." I pulled down his shirt tail. "Meanwhile, take off Jerome's trousers."

Andrew undid Jerome's belt, unbuttoned his buttons and unzipped his fly, pulling his long trousers to his ankles. Jerome meekly and obligingly stepped out of them.

Jerome was now just in his white T-shirt, neatly tucked into his white Y-fronts.

"Come out here, Paul Smith."

The other 11 year old came out: he had dark brown, short hair. "Take off everything except your vest and pants - and Andrew, take off your shirt, shoes and socks."

Soon both 11 year olds were just in vest and pants. I had them stand to each side of my desk, hands clasped on head. Then I turned my attention to Jerome.

"Go to James, Jerome. Stand before him."

Jerome stood before the boy he had bullied.

"Take off his vest and underpants, James."

"PLEASE, Sir!" Jerome begged.

James pulled Jerome's underpants to his ankles then stood to pull off his vest. Jerome was left naked except for his briefs at his ankles. His penis was circumcised, soft, with a very small amount of pubic hair. His bottom was well-rounded, firm, smooth.

"Step out of your briefs, Jerome and come back to the desk."

Jerome returned naked to the desk. I had him spread his feet wide and bend forward across the desk. I took my cane to James and beckoned him forward. "He's all yours, James."

James started to cane; as Jerome began to yell, the two 11 year olds quickly hardened inside their underpants. I pulled their briefs to their ankles in preparation for their own humiliation....