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In case you are new to these stories, here is a brief recap.
Roger Livingstone had cheated at university and submitted an essay which was not his. His tutor had given him the choice between official action, which would mean his immediate expulsion from university or getting himself thrashed by a relative or friend and returning to prove that it had been done. He had tried to find his uncle but had discovered that he was away. On the way back home, he accepted the offer of help from an older man, Peter Hill, who gave him his caning but also required that he went back for a second instalment.
Now read on.
During the days after his caning, Roger considered his position carefully. For years he had fantasised about caning and the strap, especially as he masturbated. There had been no corporal punishment in his home or at school and so he had been dependent on what he had read in school stories and his imagination. Now he had an experience which could fuel his fantasies and the promise of more and different when he returned.
As he contemplated his situation, he realised that he was saying "when" and not "if" he returned. It was true that it hurt. It was also true that he did not enjoy its actual application a great deal. At least, he had not enjoyed the last lot. However, both in retrospect and as he looked forward to it, it was exciting and he knew that he would be going out to Biddestone to see Peter Hill again.
About a week after his first visit, he was driving east. He hoped that Peter would be available. He had been unable to make detailed arrangements because the older man was not on the telephone.
He found the village and the house without difficulty. He pulled up outside and saw that there was already a car parked there. He hoped that it was not a visitor who would make it impossible for the action he was hoping for. He locked the car and went round to the back door. This was where they had gone in before and Roger knew that the front door was rarely used in many country homes. He knocked.
The door was opened and Mrs Hill said, "Come in, Roger. We were just talking about you and wondering if you would come. Then we spotted your car pull up."
He went in. She closed the door and took him through to a sitting room, further in the house than he had been before. That time, he had not progressed beyond the kitchen.
Peter Hill and a younger man, slightly older than Roger, stood. Peter greeted him and said, "I don't think we actually mentioned his name last time you were here. We did mention Robert. This is Andrew, our other son."
Peter held out a hand and said, "Pleased to meet you."
They sat down and Andrew said, "Dad's been telling me about how he helped you. What happened when you got back?"
Peter actually replied to the older man. "He was satisfied, thank you, Mr Hill. He asked me to thank you for what you did. He said it was well done and he was grateful."
"You told him that you were coming back?"
"Yes. Actually, I think I told him that you wanted me back and I explained why and he asked me if I'd be coming."
Andrew said, "Why did you come? Dad couldn't have done anything if you hadn't."
"It's like I told my tutor. I'd said I'd come and I ought to be honest."
Peter said, "It sounds as though Roger's more like you than Robert. You always wanted to be honest even when you had to be punished."
Andrew said, "It's difficult to explain. A thrashing wasn't just a punishment. It was that and it hurt but I always felt that things had been cleared up after it. I can only remember cheating once and I had to come clean about it soon afterwards. I just didn't feel right. If a punishment was due, it was as though I needed it."
Roger said, "I think that's how I feel."
Peter said, "So what would you say if I said you'd proved your honesty by coming but we could scrub the thrashing?"
Roger was slightly concerned. Was Peter thinking of not doing it now? Had he changed his mind? He said, "I think I'd be sorry. You said that I deserved it. You'd have given it to me across the fresh bruises if I hadn't asked you not to. I ought to have it."
Andrew said, "I understand how you feel. Actually, you've timed it well. I've finished at university and I've got a job teaching. It's a private school and the head is a Scot. They use the tawse and I've brought one over for Dad to see. He could try it out on you."
Mrs Hill said, "I'll go and get a bed ready for you, Andrew. You two can sort Roger out."
She went out. Mr Hill said, "I said this was for family reasons. I know you aren't our family, but as I see it, we're standing in for yours. We can make the distinction clearer if we do it in here rather than across the yard."
Andrew said, "It was like that when we were younger. Something serious enough for the cane was done out there. Beltings were done in our bedrooms. When we saw your car arrive through the window, we guessed why you were here and we said you could have it in here."
Mr Hill said, "I'll go and get the strap. Get him ready, Andrew." He went out.
Andrew said, "It's bare backside for the strap. It doesn't work properly through trousers or even pants."
Roger took this as an invitation to remove his trousers. He stood, took his jacket off and hung it on the back of a chair. He unfastened his belt and started to lower his trousers.
Andrew said, "Don't worry. It'll hurt. That's the idea, of course, but it's not quite as bad as the cane. At least, it's not as bad as the cane like you got it across your bare arse."
Later, Roger had no idea why it had come into his mind but he said, "Actually, I did wonder whether your father would finish up with a few with the cane, just to round it off."
Andrew said, "I know what you mean. I sometimes felt like that. I'll tell you what. I'll go and get a cane in here while Dad's belting you and then suggest that he finishes off with it."
Roger had removed his underpants and was standing in his shirt tails. He said, "By the way, what's this tawse you were talking about?"
Andrew produced a heavy leather strap, split into three at the end.
He said, "I'm not allowed to use it yet but this is what they're like. We've got them with two and three tails. Usually, they use the two tailed ones on the boys' hands."
Roger said, "I don't think I could take that. I play the piano quite a lot and I wouldn't want to risk a bruised hand."
"The lads in school can ask for it on their backsides if they've got a reason like that. They all get it on the backside for serious things as well."
"If you want to try your hand and your father doesn't mind, you could give me some of my punishment with that, if you like."
"Are you sure you don't mind?"
"I'm here to be punished and your father's in charge. I have to try to take what he says I should have."
Just then Mr Hill came in again, this time holding a heavy strap. "What's this about?"
Roger replied, "I was telling Andrew that, if you think it's right and he wants to, Andrew could give me some of what I'm due for with his tawse. It would be practice for him for when he can use it at his school."
"We'll see about that. Now, lie over the back of the settee."
Roger went into the position indicated, draping himself over the furniture with his feet just off the floor on one side and his body lying against the back with his head almost on the seat which supported his arms. Just as he went down, he tried to move his willy into a position where it could become hard without causing gross discomfort. He heard the door close and assumed that it was Andrew slipping out for the cane. Mr Hill was still visible as Roger looked up. In his hand was the strap. He doubled it over and experimentally thrashed it through the air several times as though across an invisible target. Then he went out of seat and Roger was aware that he was preparing for the assault on Roger's rear end. He braced himself as he waited. Once again, he had asked for punishment and now he was going to get it.
SPLAT!
Andrew had been right. It hurt but it was not the cane. Nevertheless, it was painful and it was increasing his personal excitement. He waited.
SPLAT!
It struck again.
SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!
Roger was aware that his seat was becoming very warm! He was grateful that he was in a position from which escape was difficult. All his instincts pressed him to try to get out of the reach of the blows raining down on his stern. But there was no escape. He heard the door open and looked towards it as another blow fell.
SPLAT!
Roger knew that Andrew had returned with the cane.
SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!
Roger had no idea how long this was going to go on. He did know that Mr Hill had been very fair last time. He had given him a good thrashing but he had deserved it all. That was twelve and he knew that his cheeks must be bright red.
Mr Hill said, "Andrew. Come and have your practice with that tawse of yours."
Once again, Roger simply lay wondering what was to come next. He heard Andrew move into place and could imagine the tawse being taken back. He did not have to imagine what came next.
THWACK!
The weapon fairly squarely across both cheeks. They were already tender, of course and a new surge of pain flooded out from its contact. Roger also realised that Andrew was left handed and that his work was balancing up the slight imbalance that his father's work from the other side had produced. Roger simply had to lie there and wonder how many he would have before it stopped.
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!
That was six. He had had eighteen altogether. Mr Hill did not give any instructions for it to stop. Instead, Andrew continued.
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!
That one was good enough to force a gasp from Roger.
Mr Hill said, "It's good, isn't it, Andrew? Let me have it. I'll give him his last few."
THWACK!
Once again, it fell from the other side.
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!
Mr Hill said, "If we're rounding off with that cane I saw you bring in, Andrew, I think that will be enough. Do you feel it was adequate, Roger?"
Roger had no doubt. "Yes, thank you, Mr Hill." Roger was wondering whether he had been wise to suggest this extension. He felt the weapon lying across what he knew must be glowing cheeks. It was withdrawn and he braced himself again.
CRACK!
Once again, there was the surge of pain from a cane being driven into his buttocks. It was anguish and satisfying at the same time.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Roger was praying that it would go on no longer. This time, his prayer was answered.
"That's enough. You can get up now."
Roger got to his feet and put exploring hands behind him to feel the damage.
Andrew passed his underpants across and said, "Get these on and grab your trousers. I'll take you up to the bathroom. You can cool your bum down a bit!"
Gratefully, Roger accepted his underwear and got into it. His privacy being somewhat better safeguarded, he collected his trousers.
Andrew said, "I'll make sure you don't bump into Mum. You can get there quicker like that."
Soon, Roger was behind the bathroom door, locked and private. He ran a tap as there had been the suggestion that he would want to cool his backside, but he had a much more urgent task to attend to. His Y-Fronts were removed again and he took his throbbing organ into his hands. After his relief, he dressed and went back downstairs.
Mrs Hill had made tea again. He drank some with one of her cakes. Eventually, he was able to leave. He turned to Peter Hill.
"Thank you for everything. I really am grateful."
Peter said, "I'm sure you were right to come back for the other half. It pays to be honest."
As he prepared to go out, Andrew said, "I'll see you to your car."
Once outside the house, Andrew said, "Was that really the first whacking you've had?"
"That was the second. There was the last one as well."
"That was what I meant, really. I don't know if you're like me but if you are, you didn't just cool your arse when I took you to the bathroom."
Roger grinned and said, "No. Thanks for that. I was afraid I'd have to wait until I got home."
"What would you have done if Dad hadn't offered?"
"As far as I can see, I'd have just had to accept that I'd made a mess of things."
"If I'd met you, I'd have offered, I think. I know I'd have enjoyed giving it to you. I only wish I was closer. My school's up near Manchester. If it had been closer I'd have said that you could come to me if you get into another jam like that."
Roger said, "I don't think I will. That was a close shave. I can't see any other tutor giving me a chance like that and I don't think he'd do it a second time."
He said goodbye, got into his car and drove off.
That night his fantasises had even more to feed them!
To be continued.