It was mid afternoon on a fine summers day and I was having my usual after lunch snooze in my front room when I was awakened by a loud knock on my front door. I shuffled my way to see who was disturbing my afternoon nap and I discovered a strapping young man in an army uniform standing in my doorway. I peered at the face for some time and then realised who it was. It was young Fred Bear who had been a pupil in my school some many years past. I say young - but in truth he was probably about forty. There was a time when I thought forty was ever so old but now that I am in my sixties I am afraid I think of anyone in their forties as being very young, almost a babe.
"Well, well, this is a pleasant surprise," I said, " Do come in and sit yourself down."
"Thank you, sir," he smiled and said," I took the liberty of looking your address up in the telephone book to see if you had moved or not and when I found out that you still lived here I thought I would like to see you once again."
"Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?" I enquired but he declined and indicated that he wanted to chat.
" I often think back to my schooldays," he said, " and they really were very happy days. It is only once we have left school for some time that we really appreciate them. I even relish the caning you gave me."
"Well," I mused, " I have caned so many boys in my time that I cannot always recall individual ones – remind me. Tell me what happened."
" I was about 15 and had escaped any real punishment from any of my teachers – I must have been a very well behaved little boy. However, one day I dont know what got into me but I bought a packet of cigarettes and decided it would be very grown up to smoke them. I did not go to the usual smokers hideout behind the cycle sheds. I went instead to the far end of the playing fields and puffed away behind the big oak tree that was there. I knew that the masters never went there and so I felt very safe. However what I did not know was that I could be seen by the residents of the houses nearby and one of them must have phoned you and told you. The next thing I knew was that I was ordered to report to you first thing in the morning."
"Ah yes. It is coming back to me. In fact it was the mother of one of the younger pupils who had spotted you and she demanded that I take action."
"Well the next morning the Head prefect came in at registration and said in a very loud voice that the Headmaster wanted to see me, Fred Bear, immediately in his study. Naturally I turned very pale and a deathly silence fell on all the other lads in the class. This was not a good start to the day. I tapped very nervously on your door and waited for the dreaded summons to enter.
I had no idea why I was being sent for – it never occurred to me that someone had seen me smoking behind the oak tree and I was racking my brain to think what I could have done wrong. I stood in front of your desk with my hands behind my back waiting while you continued to write on some form or other. It seemed like an eternity."
"Ah! I used to do that deliberately. Keep the little perishers waiting – let them sweat a little." I mused to myself.
" Eventually you looked up from your papers and gazed at me for a full minute, during which time I just wished the floor would open up and swallow me. You then stood up and said that I had been seen smoking behind the oak tree. My heart stood still. I knew that the punishment for smoking was six strokes of the cane and I had never had anything like that before. I was trembling. I felt very faint. You ordered me to lower my trousers and my pants and to bend over your desk. I had to take my six strokes over my bare bottom. I tell you I never smoked again. In fact I am most grateful to you that the smoking habit was nipped in the bud. Over the years I must have saved a great deal of money – not to mention the health risks that are now known."
"Well, I am pleased to hear it. I was never a smoker myself and I was always hard on those who smoked on the school premises. Now that you have recalled the incident I remember it quite well. You had a nice smooth bottom and you took the caning well, no moving about and no crying afterwards."
"To tell you the truth, sir," continued Fred, "although it was painful at the time I thought about it a lot in bed for many nights to come and it has aroused me ever since. So I have a favour to ask."
"Ask away," I said.
"Would you cane me again, now – please? I want to re-live the experience. I am dying to know if I will enjoy it as much, a second time. Please, sir," he pleaded.
"That is not a problem," I said, " you will be surprised that I have had similar requests before. Many men get turned on by corporal punishment – more than anyone can imagine."
I went over to a cupboard where I stored a variety of canes and took one out.
" Now then, this time I want you completely stripped – take off all your clothes and let me have a good look at you."
He did as he was told and was now standing in front of me completely naked.
"Oh," I said, gazing at this naked body, "that is disappointing. You are no longer smooth. I suppose I should have expected a hairy Bear," I joked.
Fred groaned. "I cannot bear bare Bear jokes," he barely said.
I ignored this comment and went on to say, "This will not do. I like smooth bottoms. There is no alternative – I shall have to shave it. Follow me."
The poor fellow was a bit taken aback at this turn of events but he was back to being a schoolboy in the presence of his Headmaster. "Yes, sir," he said meekly and followed me to the bathroom.
"Right, boy, bend over the bath. I am going to shave this bottom of yours nice and smooth." I do not use an electric razor – cant be bothered with all these new-fangled inventions. They will have me using a computer next – computers will never catch on, mark my words.
I took my shaving brush and soaped it well. I then applied the foamy soap to his bottom, making sure that the brush went around and then wriggled it around in his hole – this brought forth an unexpected ooooh of delight. I told him to remain completely still while I removed all his hair from his buttocks otherwise he would be very cut up about it – in more senses than one.
Once I was satisfied that I had completed a very workman like job we returned to the sitting room where I proceeded to give him his six strokes over his now smooth bottom. He wriggled a bit as the painful strokes fell with as much force as I could muster but he took it well. He was then allowed up and he proceeded to rub his arse until the pain more or less subsided. He grinned at me and said a heart-felt thank you. "I will be back for more," he said with a rueful smile. "I dont understand it but I just need it and there isnt anyone as good as you at giving it. I just love it and I know I shall be dreaming about it tonight yet again."
And off he went with a grin from ear to ear. It leaves you wondering why what should be a painful punishment should end up as a _s_e_x_ual stimulant for so many people.