My name is Harley, now 19, will be a freshman in college this fall. This is actually a true story that began last September at my high school in Atlanta. I am 5'11" sandy brown hair, 160 lb., was on the football team. B+ student.
When school started last September, I arrived for English class to find that for the second year I had Mr. Trent, a soft speaking and very snobbish, preppy man, 38 years old. He has a full head of straight brown hair, he's about my height, a little thinner than I, nice looking man with glasses that make him perhaps even better looking. Blue eyes, nice smile.
Mr. Trent was sarcastic, intolerant, and had made snide remarks to and about me in class. His references were to the effect that if I didn't pay more attention to Literature and less to football, I might be surprised at how lowly a college I would attend. He actually gave me (junior year) a C in English and lowered my deportment grade because I arrived late to class 3 times -- each time his making remarks like "I guess Mr. Harley (he called me Mr. Harley even though Harley is my first name) is so well versed in Literature that he doesn't need to be on time for class. Perhaps he thinks he's getting a good grade in this class. I wonder why."
When Mr. Trent kept me after class -- always announcing in the presence of everyone that I should stay afterward -- he was condescending and nasty. Already when I walked into class last September the first day, he made a comment within everyone's hearing "Oh, wonderful, Mr. Harley's back to make our class one of the intellectual English classes." -- very sarcastically.
Two weeks after classes began, I was told by Mr. Trent to come back at 3pm to discuss my future. This was one of the nicest days of my life because during his 20 minute speech to me -- which I let him finish without my saying a word -- I knew that about one hour later I would be stripping him naked and giving him 100 lashings with the belt.
I will explain. My ex-girlfriend (still a friend) -- her name is Marla -- had an affair with Mr. Trent (who is divorced) during the summer. A mutual friend of ours took pictures of Mr. Trent and Marla -- under-age, by the way -- in compromising positions. The affair is over. However, if those pictures were presented to the School Board or the authorities, Mr. Trent would never teach again and would be prosecuted to statutory rape.
"What do you have to say for yourself, boy?" Mr. Trent asked me after telling me for 20 minutes that I may as well skip college and do something that is worthwhile. I think his resentment of me was the fact that I was a good athlete (he'd refer to me as a jock) and that the girls liked me in high school.
My turn. "Well, Mr. Trent, what I have to say for myself is this. I have photographs of you and Marla -- which I am bringing to the school principal, the school board, and the district attorney as soon as we finish this lovely little session. I wonder who will be replacing you as our English teacher."
"Harley, how did you know about this. Did Marla tell you?" All of a sudden, I'm Harley, not Mr. Harley. All of a sudden, he turns beet red.
"That doesn't matter, Mr. Trent. Thanks for the nice lecture. See you around." I got up and walked toward the door.
"Wait a minute, Harley. P--Pl--Please tell me what you want," Mr. Trent said trembling.
"I didn't say I wanted anything," I said.
"Please wait. I'll do anything you say. An A would be good on your record for English. Just tell me."
"Oh, Mr. Trent, if I earn an A, that's fine. I can only think of one option to my reporting you -- with pictures in hand, and I'm sure you would not go along with it. Bye." As I got to the door, Mr. Trent said, "Harley, whatever you say . . . "
"Mr. Trent, I will give you instructions that you follow beginning immediately. If you hesitate, say you want time to think it over, defy me, or do anything other than comply, than there will be no second chance. Do we understand each other?"
"Harley, just name it."
I walked over to the door and locked it. I'm going to repeat this only one time. If you refuse, try to negotiate the terms, or anything else, then I will not give you another chance. The truth is that I'd prefer to report you. It is only out of the goodness of my heart that I'm giving you an option. I will not tolerate any waste of my time while you try and ask me to compromise on my plan," I said.
You cannot imagine how much I was enjoying this. Mr. Trent really got the message. From that moment on, he was truly putty in my hands. This arrogant, sarcastic man was groveling to me. I knew this was going to be a good year. I may actually enjoy English class this year, I thought.
"Whatever you say," Mr. Trent told me.
"Fortunately for you, Trent (I now removed the Mr. when I spoke to him), the door is locked. Remove all of your clothes. That includes everything, including your glasses, underwear, ring on your finger, that means everything. Put it all inside the closet and close the door -- everything except your belt, which you will hand to me. I'm giving you exactly five minutes. Then walk over to the blackboard, face the wall, bend over with your hands clasping your knees and your butt sticking up." My instructions were clear.
Once he was stark naked in position, I could see this man had bothered to keep in shape and looked quite good for a man of 38. Just the right amount of chest hair.
Trent asked, "Is this all right, Harley?" His position was precisely the way I asked him to position himself.
"Yes, Trent. Now before I belt you 100 times, I want you to listen carefully because I don't repeat instructions twice. Do you understand?" I said.
Looking pathetic, Trent said "Yes, Harley, let's get this over with, please."
"Oh, Trent, this is not going to be over with today. I'll let you know when it's over with."
Trent's dick had gotten hard by this point. "Why are you hard, Trent?" I asked.
"I don't know, Harley" he said with a broken voice.
I walked over and massaged his dick to make it prominently long and so I could hear him make gasping sounds -- stopping short of his cumming. Clearly, he was not planning to defy my orders. This was going to be more enjoyable than I even imagined.
"Trent, beginning today (it was Friday), you will get a weekly spanking at your apartment. This afternoon, you will give me a copy of the key to your apartment. You will leave school and get home by 4pm on Fridays -- not a minute later -- you will strip so that when I get to your apartment, you will be naked -- sometime after 4pm. Each weekend I will give you your instructions. Your whippings from now on -- after today -- will be at your apartment" I told him.
"Ye-ye-yes Harley," he muttered.
"We will begin today after your 100 beltings here in the classroom by your going home, stripping, and staying in for the weekend. When I arrive at your apartment this weekend -- unannounced -- you will answer the door naked. You will tell me at that time exactly what your demeanor will be when addressing me in class the rest of the year. I trust we understand each other," I said with a smile.
"Y-y-yes Harley."
"Let's get started," I said matter-of-factly.
The beltings were sheer delight. Just the sound of the belt hitting his butt, listening to his moaning and groaning, his trying to keep his voice soft so that it would not attract attention from people outside his classroom. His thighs, legs, and butt were so black and blue that there was no mistaking his pain -- not to mention the embarrassment when I dropped by with a friend or two over the weekend -- assuring Mr. Trent that my friends were perfectly discreet and didn't know why he was being punished anyway.
I loved asking Trent questions before each of the 91st to the 100th belting hit him, such as "Trent, how will you be speaking to me in class from now on?"
"Nicely, sir" he said meekly. I liked the added sir. That was a nice touch.
After the 100th belting, I told him to stand up straight, face me, and put his hands folded on top of his head. His dick had softened up so I rubbed it slowly and explained that he would stand there for an hour or so while I did my English homework.
At one point one of his hands came down, and I asked him why he did that.
"Harley, I was just scratching my neck," Trent said ingratiatingly.
"Without my permission, Trent?" I harsly asked.
"Sorry" Trent said.
"Walk over to the space by the window, Trent. Get down on the floor with your hands on the floor, knees on the floor and butt sticking up. Keep your mouth shut or it will be 20 instead of 10," I instructed.
I was definitely prepared. When he saw me take a horsewhip out of my backpack, I thought he would freak out.
"Please, Harley, I - - - " Trent begged.
"I guess that means 20 with the whip."
The red marks on his legs, thigh, and ass were amazing. The best part, however, were his wild screams and nonstop crying.
"Now you can stay in that position until I finish my work, Trent."
He did. An hour or so later, he rushed to put his clothes on the minute I gave him permission. When I arrived at his apartment around 7pm that night, he answered the door -- stripped naked, his dick hanging down, ready for the rest of his instructions for the remainder of the school year. I handed him the chastity belt to put on and told him I would have the only key. If he did what he was told, he would get one day off per week without the chastity belt. That day, however, would be under my supervision. If he behaved himself, then at the end of that day, he would stand in front of me -- in his classroom -- with his hands on his head and I would "relieve" him. If he didn't ask me to do it, then he would just go another week with no relief yet with a chastity belt. Periodically during the week, I would have him join me in the boy's room to check his dick after unlocking the chastity belt and then rubbing his dick just enough to make him want relief more than anything else in the world.
To be continued . . . starting with the following Monday at school.