A NAUGHTY SCHOOLBOY
A Friday Evening Invitation
It wasn't the most original start to an invitation but, nevertheless, Sean was more than a bit excited to find the note when he returned to his flat that Friday evening. He got home, slipped off his back pack, swept the beanie off his head and picked up the note with his other hand.
"You've been a very naughty boy." said the note, "Report to my study immediately." Robin was never the most creative partner he'd had (at least not in the literary aspect of their relationship) but he certainly knew how to punch Sean's buttons. All the stresses of a week's work hit the floor alongside the backpack. Sean anticipated the new stresses to which he'd soon be subjected. Perhaps wearing skinny jeans was not his best wardrobe decision in the circumstances.
Sean was a straight A student in the States but his parents had serious concerns about his behaviour outside school and had sent him to the UK at fifteen years of age to complete his education in order to separate him from his "friends" and give him a new start. He had lodged with distant relatives of his mother's and had formed a close attachment with their son. I'm not sure that his parents would initially have approved of that but, now that they had both graduated and both held down well remunerated jobs, the two young men were still together in all senses and Sean's parents were even expected to visit their three-bed flat in about a month's time to attend their civil union.
Sean headed straight for the small room that served as a home office but which was presently endowed with a sign announcing that it was the Head Master's Study, and knocked on the door. A voice from within called, "Enter." and, just as if he was about to undergo a job interview, Sean straightened his clothing and smoothed his short-cropped hair. He even gulped before entering.
The desk had been pulled away from the window and behind it sat a man in his mid twenties with brown, spiky hair, wearing a suit and tie and seemingly perusing a manila folder. Sean stood rather stiffly and the man looked up.
"Young man, you are in enough trouble already. How dare you appear before me incorrectly attired, Flynn?" So that was the scenario for their game tonight: he was to be the naughty schoolboy and Robin was to be the Head Master. "Now get to your room and get dressed properly."
"Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir, I'll get changed immediately. Sorry, Sir." Sean turned round and left the Head Master's Study. Just across the corridor he found the door upon which Robin had taped a sign announcing that the room was the "Junior Dormitory". He entered what had been their bedroom when he had left for work that morning.
Upon entering, Sean saw his school uniform neatly laid out on the bed. It was exactly the type he thought English schoolboys would wear when he first came over the Pond. Sean stripped completely. He looked down and thought, "Wait, wait, soon, soon" and hoped that his budding erection would soon subside.
Not many Junior Dorms would have featured a wet-shave kit but Sean knew what was required of him. Not many naughty schoolboys who would wear those wonderful shorts would have a five o'clock shadow and even the blond American couldn't go for two days without developing one, so Sean went into the en-suite, lathered up and made short work of his incipient whiskers. He stopped and gave serious consideration to removing the other body hair that was characteristic of a man in his twenties but a look at the underpants that Robin had laid out made him decide to shave just the sparse hair from his chest and the gentle squiggle that led up his slender abdomen to his navel. After all, even schoolboys' under-arms were usually follically endowed and he'd had a respectable covering of fine, blonde hair on his forearms and legs since he was thirteen.
Sean wasn't exactly the average Brit's idea of a typical American; he stood only five foot six tall and, weighing in at only a hundred and twenty six pounds (or "nine stone wringing wet" as his British friends would say), he had no noticeable muscle. His size made it easy for Robin to purchase real school uniform garments to fit him and, yes, there are still British schools that force the younger boys into those scratchy school shorts, although the scruffy grey shirts are no longer so easy to obtain.
Sean picked up the white Y-fronts from the bed, slipped his feet into them, pulled them up and arranged himself inside them. The rest of his underwear consisted of grey knee socks which he turned over neatly to reveal the double green hoops near their tops, and what he would have called a "wife-beater" but that he was getting used to calling a vest. Robin had even made two elasticated garters that would hold up the grey stockings and display two small green tabs below the turn-overs like an old fashioned Cub Scout uniform.
Sean admired himself in their full length mirror. Not many naughty schoolboys would have filled those Marks & Sparks briefs so well.
It was time to add the mid-layer. Sean buttoned the crumpled grey shirt right up to his neck and lifted the collar. He tied the bizarre green and grey tie with the horizontal stripes and the square ends with a half Windsor knot and tightened it dutifully against his collar button. He could never get those lapels to look smart once he'd folded the soft collar down again.
With Sean's twenty-six inch waist his Head Master had managed to find a pair of scratchy grey school shorts to fit him even though they were somewhat tight, especially when he was bent over. Robin didn't seem to mind that tightness but they only came about half way down Sean's thighs even when he was standing upright. His finger-tips certainly reached further down his legs when he was standing to attention than the hem of his shorts did. The elasticated green and grey striped snake-belt probably wouldn't last much longer but it did add a further touch of the 'fifties.
It was time to don the outer layer (outer layer, that is, until one of them could actually find a belted navy blue gabardine raincoat in a retro store). The grey 'bum-freezer' blazer was short enough still to display a pleasing proportion of Sean's school shorts and what they contained. Now he looked something like!
Robin never could see eye to eye with his star pupil about footwear. Sean always thought he should have to wear well polished (but extensively scuffed) black Oxfords but, when Robin laid out the uniform, his choice prevailed. At least those vintage red/brown sandals couldn't last much longer. Could they?
Sean stood back to admire his school uniform in the mirror once more and comforted himself by cupping the front of his shorts firmly in both hands. There was just one finishing touch. The traditional green cricket cap had been easy to obtain and the judicial application of a bleaching agent had left alternate gores green and grey. Sean placed it squarely on his head, examined the reflection of the embroidered badge on the front and departed for the Head Master's Study once more.
Facing the Music
Three knocks on the door of "The Head Master's Study" were answered with a cursory, "Enter." and Sean, or "Flynn" as he would be known for at least the forthcoming evening, gulped and turned the door handle carefully. He entered and gently shut the door behind him. As he turned to face the Head Master before doffing his cap and folding it around its peak, Flynn decided that his shorts really were too tight. The Head Master disagreed. Flynn stood up straight like a good boy with his cap clutched in both hands behind him. Robin was a good actor and his 'alright, make me laugh, I dare you' look was quite intimidating and Sean's shorts seemed to get even tighter.
"Well, Flynn, there is so much you have to explain but I am a tolerant man," Sean didn't crack a smile, "so we'll just deal with the uniform infringement first." Robin did manage not to adjust himself inside his suit trousers but it was a good job he was sitting down. "Well, explain yourself, young man."
" - - I - -"
"Oh never mind, it will be a load of rubbish in any case. Lines! Thirty reasons why my boyfriend is the best boyfriend in the world. Dismiss." Sean thought that might be easier than the time he had to write, "Thirty suggestions for what Mr. Grayson ought to do to his naughty pupil over the next month." However, Robin did adopt most of his pupil's suggestions that time. Both players' most sensitive areas were now throbbing in anticipation.
"Y - yes, Sir." Flynn pulled his cap onto his head and rushed for the door.
"Oh, and no playing with yourself; it stunts your growth."
Sean grinned as he headed towards the "classroom". They would certainly have to store certain things elsewhere in the next couple of weeks before their playroom would be needed to accommodate Sean's parents. In the meantime there was that traditional school desk with its sloping, hinged top and old-fashioned inkwell. Sean went behind the desk, pulled out the wooden chair, sat down and withdrew a scruffy, lined exercise book from the desk. He sharpened his pencil and set about his appointed task.
Flynn carefully put the date at the top of a new double page and neatly inscribed, "Thirty Reasons Why My Boyfriend Is The Best Boyfriend In The World" on the next available line. With each of Robin's many talents, entrancing habits and sexy features that he recorded, Sean seemed to become even harder. Once he had recorded the thirty reasons, he thought it was too late to worry about stunted growth and was just about to risk it anyway when the door to the classroom opened.
Flynn stood up straight, pushing the chair backwards with his legs, and the Head Master stood sternly in the doorway. "Have you completed your imposition?"
"Please, Sir, yes, Sir."
"Very well, go and get changed for PT, while I check your work, and then return." Sean understood the implications of that instruction all too well. Up until now the level of punishment he would warrant had been up to him. He could have completed the nominated task perfectly but that would have been no fun. Now his fate was completely in Robin's hands. He rushed to the Junior Dormitory once more.
When Flynn came to what had previously been Sean's and Robin's bedroom, he noticed that the Head Master had prepared things for him. Once more the slight American stripped completely. He was certainly glad to be free from the constricting shorts and the y-fronts as he immediately sprang to attention. Such freedom could not last.
Being a schoolboy from the 'fifties, Flynn knew that the PT (not even p.e.) kit would be somewhat basic and he was not in the least surprised to find that there was no underwear, just a pair of white cotton shorts and battered white gym-shoes but no socks. The shorts, being based on a period pattern, would normally have been just about long enough to conceal his tackle as long as he was standing but they were also baggy enough to allow his current erection full reign. Flynn slipped on the elasticated plimsoles that Mr. Grayson had been so delighted to have discovered still to be available on line. Flynn was not quite so convinced.
Past experience had taught Sean that, whenever he was playing the part of Flynn, he would probably be required to take his school socks with him so he collected them and headed back for the classroom.
The Price to Pay
Upon entering what was once the young men's spare room, Flynn found the Head Master seated at the teacher's desk that they had improvised using an old dining table. (The drawer had proved useful in the past.) Flynn stood up straight and held his grey socks behind him as he had previously held his school cap. He wasn't as good a role-player as Robin and couldn't resist smirking as the Head Master worked his way sternly down his list of corrections.
"These barbaric American spellings can simply not be tolerated, and describing your Head Master as 'Dicky Dimples' is most disrespectful," Robin's poker-face effectively gave the lie to that description at the time, "And Writing, 'My boyfriend is justifiably known as "Big Dick"' is inappropriate. In any case the only acceptable word is 'penis'". At that point even Robin nearly lost it. There was a delay while both men regained their composure.
"I see you are dressed ready for PT. Have you brought your long stockings with you?" Sean thought that there was no longer any reason to suppress his smirk as he brought the garments from behind his back. "Very well, you know what to do. We don't want to alarm the neighbours."
"No, Sir, of course not." Flynn rolled one of the grey stockings starting with the toe and folded the cuff back onto the roll before inserting it into its pair. He licked his lips, opened his mouth and turned his back on the Head Master who had emerged from behind his desk. Mr. Grayson took the toe end and the cuff of the proffered stocking and soon had them tightly knotted behind his star pupil's neck and the lump between them jammed into his mouth.
"Han' oo, Si'."
"Don't try to thank me. Hand me one of your plimsoles and get whatever else will be needed for your punishment."
"Eff, Si'." Flynn removed his right plimsole and handed it to the Head Master who received it solemnly. All these prolonged preparations were doing nothing to relieve either young man's erection but, in contrast to his pupil, Mr. Grayson had found the time to don a jockstrap in place of his boxers before replacing his suit trousers. It had very little effect because his suit trousers weren't exactly a 'relaxed' fit to start with.
Flynn went to the ancient desk, lifted the lid and withdrew four tidily coiled ropes. They weren't very long but they were long enough as he well knew. Walking in just one shoe, even a thin plimsole always felt weird even though Flynn had done so several times previously. He turned the desk round and presented himself ready for correction. He bent forwards leaving his torso on the desk top and his arms reaching towards the ground behind it.
"I must admit, young Flynn, it's a good job you put those cross members between the desk legs during that woodwork lesson. Now there's no way your ropes are going to slip." Flynn grunted and snorted as the Head Master anchored each of the ropes round a different desk leg underneath the said cross members. Mr. Grayson tapped Flynn' s ankles, pushing them against the front legs of the desk before tying them leaving his pupil in the splits position. He then gave the insides of both of his protégé's legs a very un-headmasterly tickling right from the rope round his ankles all the way up to the tops of his thighs. Having his pupil wearing such baggy shorts, even though they were rather longer than he would have liked, had certain advantages. Flynn held tightly onto the back legs of the desk as his own legs (and other things) responded and he let forth a barely suppressed squeal.
"That would appear to be secure enough." The assault hardly came as a surprise and Sean thought that his partner had nearly overplayed his hand (literally). However, the Head Master was a past master of keeping naughty schoolboys on the edge. Mr. Grayson moved round to the back of the desk and quickly secured Flynn's wrists so that his arms were forced straight. Obviously, with his knees still somewhat bent, Sean could have released the stress on his arms somewhat, but the last time he did that, his cruel Head Master pulled him backwards again, got another rope and made a loop round his right knee, round the back of the desk and round his left knee. Once it had been pulled tight and secured, any further bodily adjustment became impossible. The Head Master then seemed to remember something urgent that he had to do and left his pupil to try in vain to get comfortable for about half an hour before returning.
Mr. Grayson collected Flynn's discarded gym-shoe and took up his position. Flynn tensed up. "I just need to get my eye in." Robin waited, Sean relaxed, then Mr. Grayson landed the heel of the plimsole sharply on Flyn's right buttock. The desk shook. "And the other side". There was a sharp slapping noise and the desk shook again.
The first blow proper was for the "Dickie Dimples" remark and the second was for "Big Dick". Sean had had to think exactly how much corporal punishment Flynn wanted when he wrote, "My boyfriend's green eyes are my favorite color." and, sure enough, Mr. Grayson landed a stinging blow whilst explaining that favourite had a "u" in it. The next blow was for "His eyes are a beautiful green color" and the next, according to the strict Head Master, would need to be delivered "in the old fashioned way."
Sean heard the sound of his plimsole being dropped to the boarded floor and Flynn tensed up.
Robin reached around his lover's waist and inserted his thumbs in the waistband of Flynn's old fashioned PT shorts. Every one of Sean's not normally very prominent muscles stood out. as those thumbs pushed down and forced the elastic over his demanding erection leaving it poking into the front of the old school; desk. Robin's thumbs and fingers, as they were drawn slowly round Sean's hips, stroked the tops and fronts of Sean's bare thighs making the naughty schoolboy believe that there was an imminent danger of his following through. Robin was certainly in no hurry as he worked the white cotton garment down so exposing Flynn's stinging and somewhat roseate buttocks before leaving it lodged just below where his bum crease would have been if he had not been bent over.
Sean was breathing heavily and trying, not very successfully, to grind into the desk as his wheezing and breathy grunts escaped past the grey knot in his mouth. Perhaps it wasn't very professional of Mr. Grayson to rub his thumbs and fingers in firm circular motions over the skinny glutes so presented but he was enjoying himself and he somehow didn't think his star pupil's parents would be complaining. Sean's exhalations were now groans mixed with rather louder, but still muffled, squeals.
Sean was now jerking frantically against his bonds and Robin decided that it was time either to stop or to reach between the desk and Sean's lower abdomen and help him to gain the relief of which he seemed to be in imminent need. He decided simply to give a quick hand slap to each of his flatmate's buttocks and to leave him in his current "do-it-yourself" predicament while he went to give his own needs some attention without bothering Sean to help him. The resultant squeals were soon supplanted by the normal despairing groaning.
"I've just had a complaint from the neighbours about the noise." lied Mr. Grayson as he returned and picked up the plimsole from the floor. "I did warn you." Flynn's attempts to satisfy himself stopped and he sagged as much as the extremely restrictive ropes would allow. Not all of him, however, relaxed and, with the anticipation of the further application of the white gym-shoe, a certain part of him felt that it was due to explode.
Mr. Grayson was in a generous mood and he explained to Flynn that correction should always be tempered with mercy and landed just one, not exactly hard blow to each of Flynn's glowing arse cheeks. Robin thought that ought to be enough. and Sean was beginning tacitly to agree.
"Well, my boy, have you learned your lesson?"
As Flynn nodded his head slowly, a sound that would have passed for, "Yes, Sir." indicated that it was time to move on.
TO BE CONTINUED