This is a print version of story Not The Usual CP Tale! by Ima_Kant from xHamster.com

Not The Usual CP Tale!

Justin threw himself into bed - he felt elated. He'd just walked Linda home. Linda was blond, pretty and from Liverpool. He adored her accent, her scent... everything about her. His mate was wrong, well wrong: she wasn't spiteful. He was just jealous.
He'd snogged her - she'd tasted as sweet as she looked - in one of the shelters along the seafront. He'd fumbled around and played with her pert nipples. She in turn had put her hand over his cords to feel his erection.
He hadn't been this happy since before his father had died. He wanted to masturbate but felt it would be inappropriate so he tried to get to sl**p instead. He was restless, unsurprisingly, and it took until the early hours of Friday morning before he finally succumbed to his fatigue.

* * *

Bob Henders waved to his wife as he gently manoeuvred his red Ford Cortina Mk2 off the front drive of his bungalow and onto the main road of his estate.
In about nine hours time he would be home and commencing the weekend in the usual fashion - rampant sex with the wife... and that sex would be all the more gratifying if he got the opportunity to administer a few hard slipperings to some boys first. Bob Henders loved his job: P.E. Teacher.

* * *

Justin, bleary eyed, finished the last of his Frosties. ‘Mum, what's that letter there... looks very official. We don't have to move out, do we?’
‘Uh, no darling… it's from the hospital.’ She replied as though trying to evade the issue.
‘It's about your lump isn't it, Mum?’
‘Yes... just got to go back for a few more tests... that's all. There’s nothing to really worry about, Justin.’
There was a reflective silence - Justin's aunt's long and tragically doomed battle with breast cancer had begun just this way.
‘Isn't it time you left? You don't want to miss your train, dear!’
Justin slipped his blazer on and then slung his satchel over his shoulders. His mother kissed him on the cheek and wished him a good day. The front door creaked open then banged closed.
Ten minutes later she noticed that her son, her only son, had left his sports kit bag on the table in the hallway.
‘Oh well, I don't suppose it will matter.’ She told herself - she had far more pressing things on her mind.

* * *

Justin's mind flitted between visions of his mother being in hospital and the previous evening of snogging and touching up Linda. He found it difficult to concentrate in class on mathematics which was then followed by history. At least he wouldn't have to think during games after dinner which would probably be football.
Fack! I've forgotten my kit! He suddenly remembered. An icy chill ran down his back as he recalled the punishment meted out to boys who were deemed to deliberately skip games: three hard strokes of the slipper dressed in only your underpants in front of the rest of the class.
He calmed down - he would explain the situation to Mr Henders and he would understand that it was an oversight… besides he had never forgotten before. The bell rang for dinner.

* * *

At dinner he was subdued - he ate little of the fish, chips and peas. One of his pals enquired about how it had gone with Linda?
‘Okay... okay.’ Was about all he could muster to reply.

* * *

Mr Henders, a solid six foot three of him, towered above Justin. ‘Where's your kit, Thompson?’
He tried to explain but it all seemed to come out unconvincingly.
‘That’s not good enough, boy, is it? Strip down to your underpants and when the last of the class is changed and outside follow me - you won't forget again!’
He felt sick inside as he removed his clothes. It was barbaric to punish pupils this way yet the Headmaster sanctioned it... condoned it probably. Sick bastards he thought.
The changing room soon began to empty - none of the other lads really spoke to him. He was alone sitting on the bench; forlorn.
Henders put his head round the door, matter-of-factly. ‘Outside boy – it’s time for your punishment!’
He rose with an air of resignation - he was the only one to be slippered on this occasion. Justin pushed his penis down such that it wouldn't flop out through the loose front opening as it had a tendency to do sometimes; the orange underpants purchased slightly too large by his mother so that he would grow into them.
As he followed Mr Henders through the outer doors to his fate he realised that his bladder was rather full.
‘Can I use the toilet?’
‘Not now, boy!’
He tried to comfort himself that it would all soon be over - he would be home warm in front of the television in a couple of hours.
He was in the playground now - the asphalt hard on his bare soles. He visualised himself snogging and cuddling Linda but the memory might just as well be a million years away.
‘Stop there!’
He halted at a painted line drawn for netball. Henders gripped the white training shoe firmly in his large paw of a right hand. The playground ran along the school block by about a hundred yards and was approximately forty yards wide - a wire fence enclosed it.
The rest of the class, all boys, in the appropriate sports gear, were with their backs to the fence - about thirty of them. They were giggling and chatting - this was to be their little bit of entertainment prior to football.
‘Quiet everybody!’ Henders barked in his London accent.
‘The punishment this boy is about to receive is to remind you of what happens to anyone who attempts to truant from games - remember this!’
Justin who was standing facing the fence shivered because of the cold November afternoon air. He trembled, again, because of the fear. He looked briefly at the boys assembled - none looked sympathetic.
‘Bend over.’
He complied and rested his thin arms on his knees to brace himself. There was a loud whack and simultaneously as he rocked forward with the powerful blow the pain exploded on his left buttock.
He straightened up in reflex at the same time as he heard cheers from the rest of the class. He felt momentarily sick with the terrible pain - his bottom lip quivered.
He looked away to the left to evade the eyes of the 'mob' - to his horror he espied Linda with a friend attired for hockey under the bike sheds. They were sneakily peaking at his ordeal.
She had clearly seen and must have recognised him; surely she would do the decent thing and turn away.
He felt his bladder was about to burst.
About a minute had passed since the initial blow - Henders used to appear to enjoy protracting the punishment - and the pain was easing.
‘Back down!’
He braced himself for the second stroke.
Already tender, the pain was even worse. He jumped but checked himself from fully straightening up this time. Overwhelmed with his agonies he failed to feel his penis slip out of the front opening. Some of the watching boys however noticed - they pointed and jeered. Tears started to roll down Justin's cheek.
He looked for Linda and she was laughing at him too with her friend. Why won't she go away he wished desperately? - He couldn't stand the agony and humiliation any more. Then, to his horror, he saw his penis hanging out; it looked so small.
‘Right! One more whack… a really hard one to finish off!’
He assumed the position again with no time to tuck his cock in. Another incredibly hard blow pushed him forward, drained his face of bl**d and emptied his lungs of air. He started to cry at the same time as he felt warmth run down his left leg - he had wet himself. He had just time to see Linda view him with disgust as the teacher beckoned her and her friend to the hockey pitch.
The boys were now laughing freely and taunting him: 'Thompson's wet himself, Thompson's got a small dick!'
Henders who now realised what had happened turned to Justin: ‘Clean your self up you dirty little boy and then get dressed - can't you take a bit of punishment without soiling yourself? You're a disgrace!’
Tears streaming freely down his cheeks, the urine now cold on his legs and his left buttock aching badly, he started to walk back in the direction of the changing rooms. He stared down at the ground - he could face no one's gaze. He desperately wanted to be home with his Mum.
It was obviously over with Linda before it had started - she had positively revelled in his agony and embarrassment.
His dad was dead, his mother was going to die – he couldn’t stand it and he had just experienced the most painful and humiliating incident of his whole life. He sprinted out of the playground and onto the road.
He knew only to make for the station and home - just fifteen minutes away by train. He ran across the rugby field that ran parallel to the approach to the station.
In the distance the two-tone horn of the incoming train sounded a warning for the level crossing. He heard a shout from Henders and looked behind to seem him leading a small posse of boys in pursuit. He sped up - he was a fast sprinter.
He got to the crossing - the barriers were down, the warning lights flashing. It all suddenly became crystal clear to him. He ducked under the barriers and onto the track and discerned the rumble of the electric train as it rounded the last bend and began to slow.
The world was full of pain and nasty horrible people… he would be with his kindly Dad and then Mum would join them soon… he would know happiness again. The shiny rail hypnotically beckoned to him - he placed his auburn tousled head on it.
‘DON'T DO IT!!!' He heard Henders shout as he caught up.
The horn sounded continuously and metal wheels began to sk** and screech on metal rails.
He thought he felt someone lunge at his leg just an instant before a dazzling white supernova blossomed in his mind.

* * *

‘You're late Bob.’ Greeted Mrs Ann Henders as her husband walked through the outside side door into the kitchen. ‘It's nearly nine - where you been?’
His normally swarthy complexion was without colour and he was subdued.
‘There... there was an incident at the school...’ He faltered.
‘Long day… eh?’ She soothed and ran her hands round his muscular torso.
‘I've got just the remedy for reducing tension.’ She oozed seductively.
He gently removed her hands.
‘Not tonight, darling... not tonight.’


Story URL: http://xhamster.com/user/Ima_Kant/posts/7833.html