I'm in Mr Beecham's office. After spanking me hard, fucking me hard and making me suck his cock clean, he tells me to stand up. He hands me an envelope.
"I'm sending you on a training course. These are your instructions. Now go home and I'll see you on your return or possibly even sooner."
The instructions prove to be quite simple. Go to a gay website and follow the instructions you are given. I find the site with one message that immediately interests me. It reads - "Young men living in London between the ages of 20 and 25 interested in returning to schooldays, please make contact."
My excitement grows after numerous e-mails in which I'm asked several direct questions.
"Are you gay?" I answer yes. "Are you submissive?" Again I answer yes because I know I am. "Are you under five feet seven tall and slim? This is exactly me and at 22 look more 18, so I reply yes. Next question, "Are you willing to be obedient to orders and take punishment if you are disobedient?"
This makes me immediately hard and horny. I know above all that this is what I need. Orders and punishment! The last question is "Do you enjoy being humiliated in public?" By this time I'm wanking myself like mad sitting naked in front of my computer as I answer this question in the affirmative. As I shoot my load, the answer comes back; "You are accepted subject to obeying further instructions."
The first instruction is for me to e-mail photos showing me naked back and front. I set up my digital camera, pose and return the pics immediately. The second instruction is for me to ring my office and explain that my grandfather has died and I'll need to take several weeks leave. I don't as Mr Beecham made it clear I must attend this course.
A slight lull in communications and then a message directing me to attend a men's hairdressers in Charing Cross at 11am the following morning and to obey and submit to any orders I'm given.
Next day I rush off to the hairdresser's appointment. The premises are in one of the narrow side streets near Charing Cross Station, which is easy for me to travel to. The actual address is upstairs above a uni-sex hairdressing salon. I ring the bell.
"Who is that?" A slightly high pitched male voice.
"Phil," I reply.
"You're expected, push the door and come up."
At the top of the stairs a young guy wearing the sort of white outfit my dentist wears. He ushers my through a door into a room that could easily be my dentist's surgery. In the centre of the room a chair rather like my dentist's and standing beside it a smiling man in his forties wearing a white tunic similar to his assistant's. I sit down without being told.
"I'm Roland and this is my assistant Clive." I recognise the high pitched voice as he indicates his assistant.
Clive shampoos my hair and then Roland proceeds to clip my long hair and I soon realise it's going to be the short back and sides style of my school boy days. Roland chats endlessly and I'm not really required to join in. Clive meanwhile removes my shoes and socks. As instructed I sit there and submit. Roland blow- dries my hair as Clive unfastens my belt, lowers the zip in my jeans and pulls my jeans down and off. Grinning, he pulls down my briefs and takes them off. My six-inch cock jumps up fully erect.
Clive lathers my crotch and prick with shaving soap and watches, as I do very nervously, as Roland shaves off what remains of my pubic hair with a cut throat razor. He rubs me dry with a towel and then suddenly grips my ankles and lifts my legs above my head. Clive holds onto my legs as Roland pulls my ass cheeks apart and inspects my anus. I blush and squirm in embarrassment.
"As I thought a bottom and rosebud as hairless and innocent as a new born," announces Roland.
He leans forward, kisses my hole and then licks it. He straightens up.
"Unfortunately the house rules don't allow me to fuck you Phil."
Roland lowers my legs; Clive takes off my shirt, lifts up my arms and immediately lathers my armpits with shaving soap. I watch in the mirror as Roland shaves my armpits completely smooth. With my short haircut and hairless body I look more like a schoolboy than my 22 years.
"I think that's it Phil dear." Roland hands me a railway ticket. "Your train leaves platform four at 3pm and your seat is reserved. Have your lunch in the station, but don't miss the train. Understand?"
"Yes, of course. But to where?"
"You will find out."
Well before 3pm I approach platform four. "Second carriage from the front," said the Ticket Collector and clipped my ticket.
I find the second carriage and my reserved seat next to a window. Then looking at my ticket I find I'm going to Canterbury. A few minutes later and a handsome young guy about my own age with red hair and freckled cheeks and short back and sides haircut comes and sits opposite me. Then a cute young black guy comes and sits next to him. Then a startlingly handsome Asian guy comes to sit next to me. Like most English people we don't engage in conversation, but simply sit there. I assume they must have all answered the same web site notice and have all been to Roland and Clive's for haircuts. It also means, like me that they are devoid of pubic hair. I look at them more closely. All slight in build and easily mistaken for senior schoolboys. My cock is erect. The ginger haired guy in front of me with a fresh complexion looks the youngest I decide. In his dark suit he might be an office boy going home after work. The other two, both very handsome, wear more casual clothes like myself. Perhaps because of the time of day there are no other passengers in the carriage.
At last the train moves and rumbles over the century old iron bridge over the Thames. At that moment a wonderfully butch looking, tall, handsome, smiling man wearing a grey suit with a red tie arrives at our side and asks if he might check our first names. He looks to be in his thirties.
"Phil", I said.
"Campbell," the ginger haired guy said with a Scots accent.
"Raja," the Asian guy next to me answers with a slight Indian accent.
"Nick," said the black guy diagonally across from me. A London accent.
"That's very good boys," said the older man. "Now please behave yourselves and don't talk to each other. Otherwise I might have to spank you. I'm Paul, your house master."
He moves off to sit a few seats in front. We all exchange glances and start whispering to each other. Paul obviously hears us. He immediately stands up, steps towards our seats and glares down at us.
"What did I say about not speaking? I think an example needs to be made of one of you. "You boy," pointing at Campbell, "come out here.
Blushing bright red, Campbell steps out into the gangway.
"Drop your trousers boy."
Campbell doing as he's told, drops his suit pants to reveal white underpants.
"And your pants boy. And hold up your shirt and jacket."
His face red, Campbell obeys the orders and we can all see his shaved crotch and erect penis.
"Turn so your friends can see your bottom and bend over boy."
Paul takes a short leather tawse from his pocket and lays it over Campbell's back while he smoothes his hands over the smooth creamy bare skin of the boy's bottom. He picks up the tawse with one hand and holds the boy's hands firmly on Campbell's back. Our housemaster raises the tawse and give's Campbell six quick hard thwacks with the tawse. Campbell yelps and whimpers with each stroke. Paul releases his victim's hands and Campbell instinctively straightens up and rubs his flaming backside.
"Did I give you permissions to stand up boy? Bend over immediately and pull your cheeks apart so we can all see your fuckhole."
Reluctantly, Campbell obeys and we all see his pink little hole. I know that from experience this is the most humiliating thing to do in front of strangers.
"Get dressed and sit down boy."
At Canterbury Paul ushers us off the train and leads us to a mini-bus in the car park. A good looking body-builder type driver stands at the side door and feels each of us up as we board the bus.
"I'm Bill, but you'll call me sir," he says to each of us in turn.
Paul sits up front with Bill. We remain quiet as the bus speeds through the Kent countryside passing orchards and fields of hops hanging from their high supporting poles and wires. The bus slows and turns through an open gateway into a long drive leading to what looks like a red brick mansion some distance away. As we draw nearer we can see it's surrounded by extensive green lawns and flowerbeds. The bus stops at the front entrance and Bill opens the door of the bus.
"Come on, get yourselves inside at the double," he yells.
We run into the house and find ourselves in an oak-panelled hallway with a central staircase leading to the upper floors.
Immediately Bill shouts "upstairs and follow Master Paul. He sounds more and more like an army sergeant. Paul is standing at the top of the staircase and directs us to a large room with four beds, four small cupboards and four chairs. On each chair is a pile of clothing. At the far end of the room is an open communal shower area and to one side two toilet pans without seats.
"Strip naked for inspection. Come on. All of you."
I remember the instruction to obey orders from my computer and strip off my clothes. As do my three colleagues.
"Feet apart, hands to your sides," orders Paul.
My prick is at attention as are the cocks of the other three. Paul pushes back my foreskin and wipes a finger around the underside of the knob. I know it's clean. He places the same finger against my lips and presses it into my mouth.
"Suck it boy."
I do so.
"Bend over and pull your cheeks apart."
Using the same finger he rubs my rosebud and pushes his finger up my hole, wiggles it about as I whimper, takes it out, smells it and reaches around to press it against my lips. Without being told I suck it.
"Stand up boy."
He moves on to Nick, then Campbell and lastly Raja. The same sort of inspection process.
"You've been cut Raja. The headmaster will like that. Now find the cupboard with your name on it, hang up your clothes and then put on the clothes you see on the chair at the side of your bed. And be quick about or I'll take me belt to your bottoms."
I find the cupboard with my name, hang up my clothes and start putting on the clothes on my chair. First a pair of tight blue cotton shorts. So short they reach only half way down my thighs. No belt or underpants. Then a short white shirt that only just tucks into the pants. After this a red and blue striped tie. Socks which come up to my knees and black shoes. Every item my size except for the shorts which are at least one size too small so that my prick and balls are on show as well as my buns. Last of all a segmented red and blue schoolboy's cap. Paul watches us closely. Paul uses a hand to feel my stiff prick through the thin cotton of my shorts before doing the same to the other three.
"Good. I think it's time for you to see the headmaster. Go on, run down stairs and obey Master Bill's instructions."
If you enjoyed reading this chapter, please let me know will.obe@btinternet.com