Getting to the bottom of the caning which changed my life. - Sex Stories

Getting to the bottom of the caning which changed my life.

... face the unthinkable humiliation of being branded a "queer" to my parents and friends. When he returned, I was waiting in my pyjamas and dressing gown, hoping my prompt obedience might make him go easier on me. But then, as he locked the big dormitory doors behind him, I noticed the huge cane pressed into the folds of his black robes, and suddenly I found it difficult to breathe. Surely he couldn't be intending to use this monstrosity on my hand, there would be nothing left of my fingers. Instead of the usual slender 80 cm long stick of rattan, it was as at least a metre long and as thick as my finger. He laid it across the end of a bed without a word and disappeared into his cubicle. When he emerged, his sleeve was rolled right up to reveal a hairy, frighteningly powerful right arm. He was carrying a galvanised steel bucket, full almost to the brim with water, but my brain was already too scrambled by fear to make any sense of it. He spread out a towel, then another over it, and a third to form a a circle, until it looked like a big white table cloth on the floor. "Timothy, take off your pyjamas and get down in the middle on your hands and knees." I struggled to fight back the tears and come to grips with the enormity of what he was saying. That I had to get down completely naked? Why naked, nudity was taboo in our school and never featured in any way on the menu for discipline, nor even in my indiscretions with other boys. We generally only ever revealed to each other ...

... the bare essentials for the job at hand, a naked erection sticking out from our pyjamas or trousers, nothing more. (I only discovered much later in life that, thanks to a hyper-religious and misandrist mother, I was what psychologists describe as "extremely gymnophobic." I had been terrified all my life of enforced nudity. Even in showers I waited for steam to fill the room, then glided in and out of my towel as quickly and inconspicuously as possible.) Now I wanted to just disintegrate into thin air myself. I begged him to do something else, anything he wanted to me. I had mentally prepared myself for the most painful thing imaginable, a brutal six on each hand. Anything would be preferable to the horrifying scenario of being made to get down on my hands and knees and whipped in the nude. "Timothy, it's for your own good, I've decided to give you twelve on the bare backside so you can still write and do your exams on Friday, and I'm not about to change my mind. Now stop being silly and start acting like a man." I was too paralysed with fear to respond. "I will not ask you again." I tried to steady my hands to untie my dressing gown but was shaking so hard I had to stop; I couldn't do it, my chest was heaving too violently and I told him I was about to throw up. I rushed to the toilet where I deposited most of my breakfast and that seemed to calm me down. When I returned, he was a little more sympathetic. "Timothy, I can tell this is going to take all afternoon." He then very ...