The Portrait of a Strict Disciplinarian

New readers should start reading this novel at Chapter 1.  The chapters do not stand alone, but are sequential components of an erotic novel in which there are 36 chapters in all, which are intended to be read in numerical order. They will be posted at regular intervals. If, after reading the first chapter, you would like to receive the full-length novel, then kindly send me your email address to [email protected] and I will send you a PDF file containing the entire novel, which you can read at your leisure.

It was January 2nd. Time and tide wait for no man; and so it was with the daily routines at the School. There were no long vacation breaks; just the odd high and holy days when the teaching staff briefly left the inmates to their own devices under control of the numerous guards.  On January 2nd, the daily grind began again. Brad’s form was on its best behaviour as its members had all learned from the lesson he had given them on his very first day as their form-master just before the New Year, when he had thrashed the two Collins brothers, bare arsed, in front of the entire class.  The lads also knew from that reliable transmitter of news, the ubiquitous grapevine, that Roger Straker, another of their classmates had had his arse well and truly roasted by their form-master in his role of Chief Disciplinarian at the following day’s punishment parade.  Brad had, in his first two days at the School, earned himself the reputation of being a no-nonsense user of the cane, who did not let the grass grow under his feet when it came to dishing out punishment. It was amazing what a dampening effect on the lads’ tendency to create mayhem had had on them. Therefore, it was not surprising that the class was relatively quiet.

Brad’s second lesson of the day was interrupted by a visit from the Headmaster’s secretary, Miss Forsyth, bearing a message that the Headmaster would like to see him before lunch.

“Ah, Brad, a Happy New Year to you; I hear that you and DD were able to see out the old year in some style.” Brad asked himself how the hell the Headmaster would know that; Jonathan must have told him that very morning. But how much did he, in fact, know? Was he already aware that thanks to DD and Brad, Jonathan’s sex life had taken a new direction in which he, the Headmaster, had been the main player up to now? Was this, therefore, the reason for this somewhat early meeting? Brad suddenly found himself transported back to his own school days, standing sitting there in front of the Headmaster, waiting to be physically admonished with the cane for some horrible faux-pas.

However his misgivings were dispelled as the Headmaster went on:   “Brad I have just received notification by email from our lords and masters at the Ministry, that starting tomorrow, we are to receive here, on three successive days, three dangerous young hoodlums, each of whom has a long history of violence and who have been sentenced by their local magistrates to what, in ministerial language is termed two years of re-education at Milton-Midmarsh. As part of this re-education process and in punishment for their past misdemeanours, all three offenders have been sentenced to receive a birching on their arrival. Now these three cases are totally unrelated and as the lads in question are coming from different parts of the country: Newcastle, London and Bristol, there is no danger, thank God, that we shall be receiving a pre-formed gang of dangerous, young misfits.” 

“Curiously enough all three have the same first name: David.  So we have David Newby from Newcastle, who comes to us with a court order for 15 strokes of the senior birch on arrival; then we have a David Travis from Bristol, with an order for a 12 stroke birching; and finally there is David Hallam from London who is to receive 18 strokes, with a further six strokes to be given at the discretion of the Headmaster of this School, as the order puts it. There you have it, Brad: three 17-year-olds, all of whom are considered dangerous and have been sent here in an attempt to reform them. And because they have all, apparently, inflicted bodily harm on members of the public, they have all arrived with quite severe orders for immediate birchings which says something about their characters.  But you will be able to read the case files for each of them and decide whether you think that the court punishments are adequate.  And don’t forget, in addition to being free to use my paddle to render their backsides more receptive to the birch you can also administer supplementary punishment if you judge the court order to be inadequate.  In other words, my dear fellow, you are free to take the skin off the backsides of these dangerous young criminals.”

Brad left the Headmaster’s study with the three case files in his hands.  Later he read each file in detail and saw that all three detainees were really very dangerous young men, each of whom had committed robberies with violence.  The worst of a bad lot was undoubtedly David Hallam, the Londoner, who had snatched a handbag from an 80-year-old lady, whom he had knocked down in his haste to escape. His victim had finished up in hospital with a broken arm; but luckily, he had been caught by a passing policeman. Brad knew that he would have no compunction in giving this lad what he personally considered to be his just deserts.

Yet, unbeknown to Hallam at that moment, his fate on arrival at the School was already sealed and he would rue the day he had ever embarked on a life of petty crime. By the time Brad had finished with him, Hallam would find himself with an arse so wracked with pain that he would think he would never again be able to sit down at all. Just by reading the chilling details of Hallam’s career of crime, which he had begun as a boy of 14 with a simple theft, but which, as he grew older, had become ever more violent, had made Brad’s attitude to the lad harden. And he had felt that faithful indicator between his legs, somewhat prematurely arousing itself in anticipation of the pleasures to come. Alas that ultimate pleasure, which the stiffening of his cock presaged, would never be realised – at least not by Brad personally.  If there was ever an old-lag in the making, who deserved a birching, it was David Hallam; and Brad was already looking forward to delivering the lad a transcendental beating; one which would remain engraved on the lad’s memory forever.

But any post-beating therapy would have to be left to others. This was not the Oxford Brotherhood; the beating was not being delivered to a willing arse as a painful prelude to gay sex, but as a severe punishment for misdeeds.  Brad knew that in these, his first three, official, court imposed birchings as Senior Disciplinarian of the School, given the strong, complex chemistry between all aspects of corporal punishment and sex, he would have to steel himself against taking that next fateful step himself. Any post-punishment action would have to be left to the guards, who, he was fairly sure, would be delighted to attend to Hallam’s post-flogging needs, whether welcomed by him or not. Of course, Hallam was just one of three new inmates whose arses required attention; so Brad had three evenings of extreme correctional pleasure to look forward to.

In the event, it was David Travis from Bristol, with his court order for 12 cuts, who arrived first on Friday of that week. He was followed on Monday by David Newby from Newcastle with 15 cuts, and David Hallam from London, the worst offender of the three, who arrived on Tuesday, with a potential maximum of 24 cuts in his court order. So quite by chance, as the lads had, by law, to be punished on the very day they arrived, Brad found himself with the very pleasing prospect of inflicting what at the moment seemed like incrementally ever more severe beatings, culminating with Hallam, in third place, whose arse would provide the icing on the cake of what promised to be an exemplary series of very satisfying birchings. However, as is often the case, things did not go quite according to plan.

On Friday morning, just before lunch, Brad went down to the Punishment Room to see that everything was in order for Travis’s birching that evening. He arranged with the Head Warder, Turner, that the lad would be made ready for his ordeal and ready for punishment at seven o’clock that evening. And make no mistake, Brad, in view of the violence of their crimes, intended to make each of their maiden visits to the Punishment Room as painful an ordeal as possible. Brad inspected the birches and decided that all three lads should feel the bite of the heaviest of the approved implements available: a birch with about two dozen, 4 mm strands made of some very strong, extruded, semi-rigid plastic material. Brad saw that with their weight and flexibility, the spread of the strands would allow him to cover totally even the most generous of arses with about three strokes.

Although new to the birch, that most traditionally British of corporal punishment instruments, since his arrival at Moulton Midmarsh, Brad had already seen that the pain induced by  a myriad of small abrasions caused by the strands landing repeatedly on the same area of a lad’s arse gradually built up the pain to exquisitely agonising levels. And, in contradistinction to the rattan cane, which left discrete, painful welts, the birch imparted pain to the entire area of a lad’s buttocks. Thinking back to the day of his interview, when he had been inveigled by the Headmaster into participating in the beating of three inmates of the School, he had already learned that the most fearsomely painful punishment imaginable was to be achieved by first pre-conditioning a lad’s arse with the paddle before proceeding to birch it and then going on to gild the lily, so to speak, by applying a discrete number of strokes of the cane to what was, by now, an already excruciatingly painful pair of buttocks. 

Brad realised that just in thinking of the pleasure he would have in skinning David Travis’s arse that very evening, he was tacitly admitting to himself that he had already changed from his early Brotherhood days, from being someone who shied away from the cane into a man, who now took great pleasure in flogging the naked arses of deserving, young men. There was no point in attempting to deny to himself that he had become a man who really enjoyed beating naked arse. That uncontrollable indicator between his legs, which infallibly told the truth, was already saying it all.  Brad saw that just by handling the birch itself, let alone actually using it for its designated purpose, he was already so sexually aroused that his cock, which, as ever, could never be gainsaid, was already hard with anticipation and exuding drops of precum of what it clearly hoped would soon follow.  He was mentally trying to come to terms with the anticipated pleasure beating David Travis’s arse that evening. In fact, his cock was telling him the impatient, naked truth of the matter; that it wanted to fuck somebody’s arse – anybody’s would have done at that moment – or to release the tension right now either by jerking himself off or finding a willing arse to fuck.

It was with this mental turmoil churning around in his head that Brad went back to his apartment. He was still contemplating what should do to ease what he saw as his predicament in the middle of the day, when the communicating door to DD’s apartment opened and DD himself appeared. “Oh hi, Brad; I heard a noise and wondered who it was.  What brings you home at this time of the day; is something up?” Between noon and one, masters, most of whom did not live on the premises, lunched together in the staff dining room, where DD and Brad would normally also have met for lunch. Hence, DD was somewhat surprised to see his partner back at that time.

Brad was mightily relieved to see DD, to whom he told his whole story, concluding: “So you see DD, even just thinking about what I have to do this evening, I was unable to control my own sexual urges; so how am I going to manage to perform my job when push really does come to shove and I actually have to administer a mandatory legal birching. I have always become aroused when I beat arse, even at the Brotherhood, but never in the way I now already feel.  Frankly DD, my cock will be so hard before I even lay on the first stroke that it is going to be embarrassing for me in front of the guards. Do you realise, I almost climaxed just holding the birch in my hand, without even using the bloody thing? What am I to do?”

As ever, DD took charge of the situation. He had realised that his partner was in a highly emotional state and needed immediately to relieve the pent-up sexual tension which had developed, to calm his nerves before anything rational could be done.  So DD went across to him embraced him, kissed him on the mouth and said:  “Come on Brad, you need to calm down and I have exactly the medicine which will put you right; what you need right now is a good, hard fuck, after which things will look a lot better.” 

Then without asking Brad what he wanted, he more or less pushed him into the bedroom, where he helped him out of his clothes. He handed Brad a condom and a tube of lube, which were in the drawer of the bedside table, stripped himself naked, rolled a rubber onto his own erection and then lay down on his back on the bed and said:  “Well, young man, don’t just stand there looking silly, contemplating your navel, when even a one-eyed, blind man could see that his cock is crying out for attention.  Get on with it! You’ll find you will feel a new man after a good hard fuck and taken the pressure off. It’s a sure-fire cure-all for the state you’ve got yourself into. Let’s first deal with the present problem and then we can discuss the future.”

“DD, what would I do without you?”  To which DD replied flippantly: “Well you could think of jerking yourself off; but frankly, I am sure you will find that fucking me is much more enjoyable. Now cut the cackle and just get on with it.”

DD bent his knees and spread his legs as Brad knelt in front of him. Brad took DD’s legs and folded them back over his torso so that his feet were each side of his head in that most compact and egg-like of any gay sex positions. He then applied a generous amount of lubricant to DD’s anus before sliding the full length of his hard man-meat into DD’s ever hungry arse. The effect was more or less instantaneous; as soon as his pelvis mated with DD’s anus, with his balls compressed against DD, a deep wave of relief swept through his entire body.  This was sex in a way he had never had it until now. On this occasion, any question of mutuality was forgotten; this was purely about relieving his own tension and he had not a thought for DD as he withdrew himself and gave him that first long, powerful stroke of his cock. Within six thrusts, Brad suddenly climaxed and shot a huge load into the condom he was wearing.

It was only then that Brad realised just how much he owed to the acute prescience of DD, who, without any thought of sexual satisfaction for himself, had instantly made himself available to his partner. So full of guilt at what he now saw as his one-sidedness toward DD, his own immediate needs having been met, he withdrew himself from DD and pulled his partner’s legs back flat so that DD was again lying on his back. He then laid himself full-length on top of DD, with their two, hard cocks sandwiched between their bodies; and then, kissing DD fully on the mouth he said:  “DD, forgive me for using you as I just did; but I was in such a state that I lost all sense of proportion and just had to get relief. I am deeply sorry that I fucked you in the same selfish way that a dog does a bitch on heat. It cannot control its base instinct to fuck the female and for those few minutes just now, neither could I; come what may, I just had to fuck. But believe me; I am now ashamed of myself for having treated you without any regard whatsoever. What can I ever do to make it up to you?”

DD, as ever the realist, laughed and said: “Forget it, Brad; you would do the same for me in my hour of need if ever that arose; that is what partners do for one another. Every cloud has a silver lining; so looking on the bright side, we still have time for a quickie before lunch; so roll over my friend, and I will do you proud. After the drubbing you just gave me, I am in need of a good fuck myself.”

Brad did as he was asked and raised himself onto his knees, spreading his legs to allow DD easy access, DD, meticulous as ever, in spite of being totally aroused sexually by what he had just experienced, applied a good dose of lubricant to Brad’s anus before proceeding to give him one of his most powerful fucks ever, bringing both of them to that greatest of all copulative pleasures: the simultaneous orgasm. Brad had never experienced an orgasm quite like it. Induced as it had been by DD, Brad had played the role of bottom in this, their latest coupling, which and culminated in possibly the most intense orgasm he had ever experienced in his life. At the moment of climax, he ejaculated the largest amount of the sperm he had ever seen. As they lay there in each other’s arms for a few minutes of recuperative, post-coital bliss, both of them knew that what had just happened had turned what had initially been a crisis of confidence for Brad, into a lovemaking triumph for both of them. Without saying a word, they both now knew, beyond all doubt, that they were now cemented together as an item for life.

 After a quick shower to rid themselves of the smell of sex, they managed to arrive in the staff dining room just before the end of the lunch service. As they had been late arriving, they had the place almost to themselves and sat at a table apart from the few of their colleagues who were still there. Brad immediately voiced his residual fears concerning his evening’s birching task: “DD, I seem to have become completely unable to control my cock and my desire to have sex when I beat someone. Until now at the Brotherhood meetings, when I shredded arse, I too was naked and the cane was a prelude, a sort of foreplay, to sex. But now I feel embarrassed by my inability to control my meat, which tents the crotch of my pants in front of the guards when I have to skin a lad’s arse. But what I fear most is that by the time I have finished a thrashing, I will have become so aroused myself, that I will be unable to control my own urges and will go one to rape the lad. Just look at the state I was in this morning. I had only to handle the birch to get myself into the state in which you found me.  What am I to do, if I cannot control my animal instincts? What would I have done just now if you had not come along?”

DD laughed and said: “Well the answer to your last question is simple; you would have jerked off to relieve your feelings, as I am sure we both have done in the past; well, I have anyway and what man has not?  I know it’s very much second best to an actual fuck; but needs must and if that is the only option, then it is not all that bad.  But as far as controlling your meat is concerned, well, you know as well as I do that a man’s cock has a mind of its own and thinks, quite selfishly, only of what it  wants; it has no qualms at all about embarrassing its owner. You can never stop it doing what it wants, but what you can do, is  guide it in its wilfulness to make sure that, even though it will not keep quiet, it does not, as it were, trumpet its desire from the roof-top”

“What I suggest you do is what I myself do in the gym. I wear a pair of briefs with an inbuilt cock-ring, stitched into the front pouch, through which I insert my cock when it is still soft, when I put on the briefs. The ring holds my tool vertical against my belly, so when it gets stroppy, as it often does at the sight of so much desirable young flesh, it is not able to stick itself out like a sore thumb, advertising to the whole world what it wants. I buy mine from a place on the internet specialising in men’s erotic underwear. Anyway, for the moment, I will lend you a pair of mine to see that your cock does not embarrass you on the occasion of this, your maiden, mandatory, legal birching.”

“Now, as far as being able to curb your own libidinousness is concerned, that is entirely in your own hands. A guy has to be able to ignore the demands for action from his cock and balls, however strident they may be. Otherwise, in your position, as beating bare arse turns you on, as it obviously does, you will finish up raping every miscreant you beat.  So just control your libido and remember that you always have me to come home to, ready to allow you to expend your sexual energy.  You know, Brad, we are very lucky to have found each other; we are truly a well-matched pair, as we both are attracted to each other and we both adore sex.”

“Anyway, one day you will probably crack and fuck the lad whose arse you have just finished shredding. But it will not be the end of the world and you will be neither the first nor the last to give into temptation. Look, Brad, all of the lads here are over 16 and most of them probably already know as much about sex as you and I do. And d’you know what? I think many of them would welcome a fuck after a beating. You do realise that strange though it may seem; corporal punishment and sex are often bedfellows; but it is so. There is nothing unusual in your getting turned on just by holding the birch in your hand, let alone actually using it”

“You have to get real in a place like this. Ten to one both guards will fuck the lad after you have finished birching him this evening; they see it as a perk of the job. Schools like ours are throbbing beneath the surface with what is often referred to as illicit sex; but as far as I am concerned, sex is just sex; and in a place like this it is pie in the sky to think it can be stamped out. The fact of the matter is, that criminals they maybe; but the inmates of this place are also young men, all of whom, like you and me, need sex regularly. So deprived of female company as they are, they have no one to fuck other than one another. Among the inmates, there may be a few true gays like you and me, but most of the lads are probably just buggers; they fuck arse because they have no alternative.  And let’s face it, if there are no females to hand, anal sex, as we both know, is not at all bad!  Sex is in many ways, like night following day: a fact which we have to accept”

“If you want, I will come and figuratively hold your hand this evening whilst you conduct your inaugural, judicial birching. In fact, Brad, I have never actually seen anyone even caned, let alone birched; but behind my smooth, calm-and-collected exterior there lurks a prurient mind which would delight in seeing a bare arse or two being beaten especially by an expert like you. Like most men I have a strong Schadenfreude component in my make-up and would enjoy seeing someone punished.  Then when you have finished your official duties, by which time we should both be fully aroused, we can leave the new inmate to his fate with the guards and go back home and take care of each other.”

Brad found himself relieved by this unexpected offer: “But what do I say to the guards, who normally present during punishment. You know that Turner, always leaves before the floggings actually start, as I think he does not want to get himself into a state of arousal where he would do something he regrets; but the guards are normally present.”

“Look Brad, you are new here and it is you, not the fucking guards, who decide what goes. So just tell them politely to piss-off and wait outside. A new broom sweeps clean; do not allow yourself to be dictated to by the guards. You have to show them from day one that it is you, and you alone, who is in charge. OK, I am sure that they will be will be disappointed not to watch you shred the arse of whoever is on the line this evening; but they will still have to deal with the post-beating clean up. In the end, they will not be deprived of their usual perks, whatever they are. And, in that respect, I advise you not to look too closely into what happens after you have flogged a lad and handed him over to the guards. To mix my metaphors, live and let live and let sleeping dogs lie or you may open up a whole can of worms. You will have done your duty, so just let them do theirs – as they see it. A school such as this is not a bed of roses for the inmates; nor should it be. The internees, all of whom are criminals, remember, will have to learn to take the rough with the smooth just as it comes.”

Continued in Chapter 23