James Pays The Price

Author: Didaktos didaktos@geocities.com

This story is on of a series inspired by pictures found on the Internet.

James Sproson walked slowly home. In his pocket were two envelopes. One did not worry him too much. It was his school report and he thought that he had done reasonably well. The other was a letter from Mr Wilkes, the headmaster to his parents. This letter was the cause of his reluctance to get home quickly and of the troubled look on his face. He had not seen it and did not dare to open it. He would be in even deeper trouble if he did. It was expressing the headmaster’s unhappiness at the fact that James, together with some friends, had chosen to mark the approach of the end of the autumn term by smuggling some beer into school and drinking it behind the cricket pavilion on the field, where they thought they would be safe from prying eyes.

James and three friends were now all on their way home and all with similar letters. Each informed their parents of the events and the fact that the headmaster was disturbed when fifteen or sixteen-year-old boys were drinking in school. His reaction had been to suspend all four. Whether this suspension would be promoted to expulsion would depend on parental responses. He would need to be certain that these responses were adequate for the occasion.

James turned into the drive of his home, walked to the back door and opened it. He put his bag down on the floor and went through to the lounge. To his surprise, he saw that his father was home.

"I’m in trouble."

His father said, "Yes. Mr Wilkes phoned your mother and she phoned me."

James took his report and the letter from his pocket and handed them to his father. He, in turn, opened the letter and read it.

"Well, there’s no school for the rest of the day for you, James. Go and get out of school uniform."

James went upstairs to his room. He took his blazer off as he had been taught to. He emptied its pockets onto his dressing table, eating a piece of chocolate of whose existence he had forgotten. He put the blazer on his bed and took his shoes and socks off. Then unfastened his school trousers and steeped out of them. He emptied the pockets, checking a handkerchief and deciding that his mother would moan if she saw it in use. It went into Ali Baba, the family name for the laundry baskets that were in every bedroom. His trousers went onto a coat hanger and his blazer went over it. They went into his wardrobe. Next, his tie and shirt came off. The shirt was not too dirty and he put it over the back of a chair in case it was needed again that day.

He looked at himself in the mirror as he almost always did when in this state of dress. James did not lack a recognition of his own strengths and the body he saw in the mirror with his private parts hidden and supported by black jockey shorts was one which he was sure would attract anybody with taste. It certainly attracted him! He gently massaged the bulge in the centre of his pants that had already enlarged a little, a conditioned reflex produced by the fact that he rubbed it every time he stood in this way. However, on this occasion it would be tempting providence to do any more. He knew his father would want him downstairs very soon.

Anxious to stay as undressed as long he could, he found his white socks and put them on. His jeans had to follow. They would not go on over his shoes. Next, he put an informal shirt on and finished with his trainers. Now he had to face the music. He went downstairs and into the lounge.

His father said, "I take it that you have no explanation, reason or excuse for this behaviour?"

"No, Dad. I’m sorry."

"You’re going to be even sorrier. I had hoped that you had reached the stage when I wouldn’t be needing to cane you but it seems that I’m wrong, doesn’t it?"

James knew that there was no point in arguing.

"Yes, Dad. I really am sorry. Do you want to do it now?"

"Yes. That way we can get it out of the way before your brother and sister come home and we can take you back to school to see whether we can persuade Mr Wilkes to have you back."

James knew what was needed. He went to the cupboard under the stairs and took out two canes. He had never known one to break but his father always insisted on a second to deal with that eventuality without avoidable delay. He took them into the lounge and gave them to his father. Then he moved a coffee table into his father’s preferred position for it. This was diagonally in a corner by a rarely used door that led to the hall. It was a hangover from the days when the large lounge and dining room in which they were had been two rooms. This door was effectively redundant but his father had retained it because the hall would have looked unbalanced without it.

Almost everything was ready. Now, James had only to place himself in place. He slipped his jeans down, lowered his pants to clear his bottom but no further. He wanted them handy to restore his privacy when the caning was over. Already, as well as the minor massage he had given himself upstairs, he knew that an erection was developing at the mere thought of what was to come. He knelt and leaned forward, his body supported by the table. His arms came together and he rested his head on his wrists.

This was always the worst part of it. The cane or strap were bad enough, but simply lying there wondering when it would start was agony.

James had no idea how long he would be there. His father was well aware of the punishing effect of considering what is to happen and that this was much more powerful once the offender was in position. While James had been walking home, there was always the chance that his father would choose some other punishment. Even when he was changing upstairs, and fairly sure it would happen, James had been able to put it to the back of his mind. Now, kneeling with bare bottom presented for action, there was no possibility of avoiding it and there was little possibility of thinking of anything else.

He knew that he would have to wait. His father was sitting reading a paper. He also knew that he must not look up. To do so might produce a reprimand. It was more likely to result in an extra stroke or two. He could just see his watch. It was five to two.

Continually through James’s mind was the knowledge of the pain to come. From time to time, his imagination almost felt a stroke and his buttocks tensed and twitched. Time went by. He lay there for a full hour and still nothing happened. Then he realised that he needed to relieve himself.

He looked up and said, "Sorry, Dad. Can I go to the toilet, please? It’s getting desperate."

"Yes, but be quick about it."

James stood and pulled his pants and jeans up. He went into the hall and to the toilet. He dare not have a wank. It would take too long and his father might even be able to hear when he stopped peeing. He emptied his bladder, operated the flush and went straight back. Soon he was back in place and waiting.

This time he did not have to wait long. He heard his father move and then braced himself. Suddenly the cane was driven hard into his naked seat. James had seen his father use the cane once, only a month ago. His brother, a year younger, had deliberately damaged some of James’s property and James had been allowed to witness his punishment. With the lower position than the traditional bending over into a chair or touching toes, Mr Sproson had developed a movement rather like a low tennis shot. What James knew was that it was powerful and accurate.

That first stroke was squarely across the middle of his seat. Now that it had started, James tried to add to his self-control by moving his arms over the side of the table and grasping the legs.

He waited for the second stroke and guessed where it would land. It would be below the first stroke and exactly parallel. He would be able to check whether it was parallel in the mirror later. He knew that is was below the first.

The third was above the first. James was sure that this was being done hard enough to make tramlines, those cane marks which were two close parallel lines with a narrow clear space between them. It was agony.

He closed his eyes and waited.

Ccracckk!

The fourth stroke joined the others. James held his jaw tightly closed as he struggled not to cry out. He could do nothing about the tears that he was producing except occasionally wipe them on the back of his hand.

Ccracckk!

Ccracckk!

The sixth was a horror, cutting into the region at the base of his bottom. James could not help it. It forced a cry of anguish. On the other hand, he was relieved that it had happened. Six was the most he had ever had and that stroke on that sensitive area always marked the end. He relaxed and waited to be told to get up. He relaxed too early. Another stroke bit into his seat. This, he recognised was going diagonally across the others.

Ccracckk!

Ccracckk!

Two more diagonals. That was nine. Would this be the end? He soon had his answer. That striped rump was the target for another and another. James was convinced that there would be at least one more and he prayed that it would be the last. He was right in expecting another. It bit exactly along the line of the sixth. James almost screamed and then said, "Sorry, I couldn’t help that."

His father said, "That’s it, James. I hope we’ve driven the message in."

He gave James’s bruised seat a reconciling rub and then said, "Get up now."

James got to his feet and pulled his pants up. He rubbed his stripes to try to bring a bit of comfort, pulled his jeans up and took a handkerchief from his pocket. He wiped his eyes and blew his nose, fastened his jeans and said, "Is it OK if I go to the bathroom, Dad?"

"Of course, it is. You need to wash your face and change again before we go into school."

He went upstairs, into the bathroom and locked the door. His first priority was to inspect the damage. He lowered his jeans and pants and turned round. He had been right. They were almost all tramlines and, at several intersections, there was a trace of blood. His father had done a good job!

His next priority was a much-needed wank.

That completed, he dressed and washed his face. He went to his bedroom and changed back into school uniform, thinking it was been a fairly pointless change out of it, but then realised that his school trousers might have got crumpled if he had lowered them like his jeans. He took the opportunity to admire the stripes again before he completed his change and went back downstairs.

He and his father started to walk to school. On the way, they caught up with Hugh Jenkins and his father. As Hugh had left school under the same cloud as James, it seemed a fair assumption that they were on a similar errand.

It seemed that the fathers knew one another and the boys dropped back.

James said, "I’ve had an awful whacking and we’re going into school now to tell the boss and see if I can go back."

Hugh said, "I wish I had."

"Why?"

"Well, it’s my Dad. He looks OK but he isn’t very well and if he does anything strenuous, it knocks him up. He’s OK in his job. That’s brainwork, but he can’t do anything physical so we’re going to see the boss and see what we can do. I think Dad’s going to ask him to whack me."

When they got to the school, the fathers had conferred for long enough to have decided that they would go in together.

Inside the study, both fathers were offered seats and both boys were left standing.

James’s father started the ball rolling.

"Thank you for your understanding in simply suspending James rather than expelling him."

Mr Wilkes replied, "It’s very difficult when something serious happens, now that I have one hand tied behind my back. In the old days, I’d have given them six of the very best and a warning that a repetition would have their school career ended. The matter could have been closed cleanly and swiftly apart from a letter to keep the parents informed. Now, there’s no sanction between the trivial and the catastrophic."

Mr Sproson said, "I agree with you. I went beyond your prescription. James had had twelve of the best."

"I’m sorry. I’ll have to check. I don’t doubt your word but it’s happened to me twice. Once was some years ago. The father told me he had caned the boy and I accepted his word. It was much later that I heard that I had been deceived. That training in deception didn’t help the boy in the end. He is one of the comparatively few of our old pupils who ended in prison. In his case it was for swindling old ladies. The other has just left. Mr Swanson assured me that he had caned his son. He was not telling the truth but it became clear when I asked to check. He has been informed that William will be reported to the Governors with a view to his being expelled."

James said, "Poor old Bill."

The headmaster said, "I agree with you, James, but I have no choice. A successful school career is the result of co-operation between the school, the pupil and the parents. If parents aren’t straight with us, there’s little we can do for the boy. You must know that his record is by far the worst of any of you in involved in this escapade."

James said, "Is it enough if I just turn round and lower my trousers and pants, sir? I think I’d prefer you to check anyway. Dad gave me a good whacking but, now that I’ve been caught, I’d prefer to be honest and have what you think is right. I don’t want any more but if you thought that what I’ve had isn’t enough, then I’d prefer to have it."

Without waiting for an answer, he turned, unfastened his trousers, lowered them and his pants at the rear, raised his shirt and the headmaster said, "That will be fine, James. I can see you’ve been well punished."

James started to dress again. The headmaster said, "As far as you’re concerned, James, the matter is closed. Please don’t be so foolish again."

"I’ll try, sir."

Mr Jenkins said, "The matter’s not quite so simple with Hugh. I only wish it were. You know about my condition?"

"Yes. I’m sorry if this puts you in a fix. I hoped that you might have a brother or brother in law who could step in."

"Only a brother in law and he’s so vicious that I wouldn’t trust him near Hugh. I’ve come very close to weeping to see what he did to his own son for something a great deal less serious."

Hugh said, "Even that would be better than being expelled, Dad."

His father replied, "Just stay out of it, Hugh. Mr Wilkes, I was wondering whether I could ask you to do it for me."

"I’m sorry. In that old phrase, it’s more than my job’s worth. I’m sure that I can trust all your discretion, but it is rigidly excluded in my contract and so it wouldn’t be honest for me to do it."

Mr Sproson said, "Mr Jenkins and I are old friends, although we’ve seen little of each other recently. It goes back a long way. We were at school together and lived next door for quite a long time when we were boys. Would it clear the matter if I stepped in and caned young Hugh on his father’s behalf?"

"That would be ideal. I must stress that it is on his father’s behalf. Not mine. Technically, even though I presented you with the possibility of this way out, I can’t be asking for it to happen and if either of you had been parents with a strong objection to corporal punishment, we would have had to agree on another serious sanction."

That evening was convenient. James’ brother and sister were both due to be out, one at Scouts and the other with the Girls’ Brigade. James had explained the family system to Hugh and he came round with his father.

Hugh said, "Can I say two things, please, Mr Sproson?"

"Sure."

"One is to thank you for helping me like this and the other is that I’d like Jim to be here to encourage me. Dad’s been like he is for ages and the last time anything like this happened was when I was spanked before I even went to the secondary school. I’m not used to it. James has been talking to me about what happens and I’ll do my best but I would like him here."

"Fair enough. You have the right to be private apart from your father and me. If you’d like James, then he can stay." He turned to his son and said, "Show him what to do, James."

James took over.

"OK, Hugh. Stand by that table, then undo your trousers and let them down. They’ll be OK round your knees, That way, they are a bit of padding. Then get your pants clear of your bum."

He waited until Hugh had done that and he said, "OK. Get onto your knees and lie across the table."

Hugh went down.

James said, "I expect Dad will let you think about it for a time. While he does, hold your wrists under your head. It’s easier than trying to hold your head up. When he starts, I always hold the legs on the table but you do what’s best for you."

James sat down and left Hugh to his fate. He looked at his naked bottom and realised that he would like to stroke it. He realised, too, that he was developing an erection and he wondered if it had the same effect on Hugh.

His father spoke to Hugh’s father. "I normally let James wait for some time like that. Hugh’s had longer to wait and think about what’s coming and so we’ll get it over for him."

James watched his father rise, take a cane and flex it several times. He crossed the room to Hugh and carefully arranged his position. James watched the cane taken back and then smash into Hugh’s waiting seat. He watched each stroke in turn, remembering how he had felt as they had crashed into his rear end.

After six he said, "Keep it up, Hugh. You’re doing really great."

Immediately after the twelfth stroke, Mr Sproson spoke to Mr Jenkins.

"That’s what I gave James. It should be enough. After I’ve finished, I usually give James’s bottom a little rub. Just a quick one but I think he helps us both to feel that we’re friends again. You’re his father."

Mr Jenkins accepted the invitation and then Hugh was told that he could stand. Quickly, he pulled his pants and trousers up and fastened his belt and flies.

He turned to Mr Sproson and said, "It probably sounds silly, but thank you. I feel punished that way. Dad does his best, but stopping my pocket money isn’t the same. I can always get round that, anyway. Sometimes I get something from the bank if I need to get something. Other times I borrow it from Mum or Dad and they often forget to ask for it back. I’m not very often in trouble, but if I am, do you think Dad could ask you to cane me, please?"

His father said, "I’m glad you suggested that. I’ve already made an arrangement like that with Mr Sproson and it’ll be starting as soon as you’ve got over that lot."

"What for?"

"Your school report, of course. It’s not up to the standard we want in an exam year."

Mr Sproson said, "And the same thing applies to you, James."

"I thought it wasn’t too bad, Dad."

"We’ll go through it together later, but it’s exactly as Mr Jenkins said. It might have just scraped through a couple of years ago, but we expect better now, especially with the forthcoming exams. However, we’re holding Hugh up. He’ll want to go and wash his face."

James said, "Can he stay and see my computer after that, Dad?"

Mr Jenkins said, "As far as I’m concerned, he can, James. Your father and I will be going down to the pub. He can make his own way home afterwards."

He turned to his son, "You know the rules, Hugh. Don’t be late."

"OK, Dad."

The two men prepared to leave for their drink and the two boys went upstairs. Hugh quickly swilled his face to remove the remains of the tears. Together they went into James’s bedroom where he had a desk and his computer.

James said, "Can I ask you something, Hugh?"

"You know you can, Jim."

"I know, but this might upset you and I don’t want to."

"Come, on. Spit it out."

"Well, I wondered if having a whacking turns you on like it does to me."

"Yes. I didn’t like to say anything. I thought I was odd."

"So did I. That’s why I didn’t really want to ask. If you hadn’t I’d have looked a real Charlie."

Hugh said, "I’m glad you said something. I was thinking of having a wank, but then I couldn’t when you asked me to come up."

"I was wondering something."

"What?"

"Well, you won’t get upset, will you?"

"I think I can guess. Did seeing me get it give you a hard as well, Jim?"

James nodded.

"Were you wondering if we could have a wank together?"

"Actually, I was wondering more than that."

"What? Was it that we should wank each other?"

"Yes. What do you think?"

"I’d like to have a try. I mean, we aren’t all that old and in our sex lessons, old Smithers said that everybody goes through a homosexual phase, didn’t he. Then he said some people stay there and some become heterosexual and some like it both ways. I’ll slip down and make sure they’ve gone out."

A little later he was able to confirm that they were alone in the house. They both undressed. They both ran their hands over the other’s striped backside and then they both turned their attention to the manhood of their partner. Together, they brought each other to rigid, throbbing erections. Together they advanced until both were ready for ejaculation and together they fired all they could muster, relieved that James had thought of bringing some toilet paper in to catch their emissions.

They dressed and Hugh said, "I was looking at a book my brother’s got?"

"Your big brother?"

"Yes. He’ll kill me if he finds out that I’ve seen it, but it was going on about how men can do it like we did, you know, together, but they finish off sucking each other. What you say we try that after we have our whackings for our reports."

James said, "That’s a really great idea. Let’s see if we can get our whackings together. That way, we’ll really be ready for it."