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Schooling Him

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“You’ve dishonored the house, Somerton.”

“I—I didn’t mean to cheat, but my father—If I failed this year—“

“Cheat?” I lean in close, every inch the Head Boy, eying his pale face and terror-glazed eyes with approval. “Everyone cheats. You got caught. And gave up the name of the boy you bought the crib from to escape a harsher punishment. Denville’s a particular friend of mine and I take his suspension personally.”

“I didn’t know. Please—I’m to be caned in front of the school tomorrow. Isn’t that enough?”

I’m looking forward to that. I’ll be on stage with the headmaster, handing him the heavy cane with another in reserve in case the first breaks, helping him draw down the trousers shielding shrinking flesh from the bite and sting of seasoned wood. I’d prefer to wield the cane, but the headmaster is an expert at placing precise, deep cuts and it’s educational to watch him work. After all, we are at school to learn.

“Not even a little. You’ll take my discipline first, my boy. Tomorrow you receive pain. Give me an antonym for pain.”

“Pleasure?”

“Why, that’s excellent. You paid attention to one lesson, at least. Yes. My pleasure, of course. On your knees, boy. You’ll apologize, then suck me until I tell you to stop. Then I’ll bugger your arse until you’re squealing as loudly as you did to the headmaster. And after that, well, it’s back to your mouth again. I’m damned if I’m cleaning the stink of you off me myself. “

He’s shaking, spluttering broken sentences, showing a shocking lack of clarity of thought. I roll my eyes and push him to his knees. I’m already hard, already aching for the wet succulence of his mouth and the tight clench of his hole. He’ll scream for me, kneel to me, serve me.

And if he comes, he’ll lick up every drop.

When Matron lets him out of the San, I’ll break the good news he’s to be my new fag. I’m sure it’ll comfort him to know he has one friend in the school.

Because, there’s one compensation for belonging to me, body and soul. No one else gets to touch him.

Unless I permit it, of course. After all, a chap who doesn’t share with his chums isn’t the kind we want here at Heatherton Hall, is it?