Inspired by this:
“I’m going to have to punish you very severely. I’m going to have to ask you to bend over, and take six of the best.” Dudley loved this moment, where the tables were about to flip and Peter would assume control in an instant.
The sketch was going so well, the audience were loving it, as they always seemed to do when they ratcheted the sexual tension up to eleven. This, admittedly, was not a difficult feat when they were playing characters where the power dynamic was reversed with regard to their physical dynamic. But Dudley was running the risk of falling out of the sketch any minute with these thoughts.
“Yes Sir. Could I just say one thing, Sir.“ It was about to happen. The snide tone with the threat of violence. These were truly characters where Peter absolutely shone.
“Well, come on Rawlings. Out with it.” Dudley felt at ease playing the absent-minded Professor. Fixated on the upcoming beating and barely paying a thought to what his student was confessing to him.
Dudley tuned back in to listen, “You’re much older and wiser than I am, Sir.”
“Come on, Rawlings.”
Instead of his expected line of “I’m much bigger than you are, Sir.” followed by a belittling physical threat, what Peter actually responded with was –
“Be gentle with me, Sir.”
Peter turned to Dudley, his head down and his eyes cast upwards, fixing him with a challenging, yet submissive stare through his long eyelashes.
Wordlessly, he bent himself over the desk, turning his head slightly so the audience couldn’t see his face and flashing one of his most wicked grins at Dudley.
Dudley was speechless and jumped at the prompting from Peter.
“If you don’t do this right, Sir. I may never learn my lesson.”
There was the implied threat. He knew how to work with that.
Summoning all the bustling pomp of an education provider out of his depth, he spluttered, “Oh – oh! is that the case, Rawlings? Do you think I can be manipulated so easily, Rawlings? I will not be intimidated. Drop your trousers, and I will give you six of the best!”
Peter didn’t falter, and to Dudley’s amazement, he dropped his trousers to his ankles, with a muttered, “Yes, Sir.”
“I should bally well think so!”
Dudley felt the rush of true improvisation, yes it was exhausting and frustrating when it was due to Peter forgetting lines and being too drunk on stage to function, but this – where Peter was in top form and quite literally playing with him – this was what he lived for.
Casting aside his outer lecturer’s robe, he picked up the birch and walked over to the prone form of Peter.
Smirking slightly he began thinking aloud.
“So, Rawlings – what was it to be, six of the best?” He reiterated, looking appraisingly at Peter’s arse. He noticed Peter moving minutely against the desk.
“Don’t move,” he roared, and sure enough, Peter’s thighs twitched. Oh this was going to be fun.
Peter’s hips stopped their minute thrusting against the desk.
“Sir?” Peter asked in that insolent tone he reserved for any character where he was meant to be subordinate to Dudley.
“What is it, Rawlings?”
“When are you going to give it to me, Sir?”
Oh, this was on. Dudley’s lips twitched, desperate to remain in character.
“I’m going to give it to you now, Rawlings.”
“Are you really, Sir?” Was that a note of trepidation in Peter’s voice?
Dudley raised his hand in preparation to strike with the birch. As his arm was about ready to come down, Peter interrupted him.
“I think I’d prefer if you used your hand. You don’t seem very in control, Sir.”
Oh that insolent tone just did things to him. Dudley was vibrating with energy, and had no idea where this was going.
“How do you mean, Rawlings?” Where was Peter going to take this.
“Just that - you may wish to put your robe back on, Sir?” Oh, Peter knew where this was going. His body was flooded with a dual mix of terror and familiarity.
“And why is that, Rawlings?”
“Well, I can see how the current state of affairs have affected you, and you might wish to cover your trouser area, lest I get the wrong idea about your intentions with me…”
Dudley glanced down. He had been so focussed on the improvisation and the heady rush of breaking new ground with Peter, that he hadn’t realised he’d actually become hard throughout the proceedings.
“You seem surprised at your own reaction, Sir. Might I suggest that you’re not in a position to be giving out corporal punishment?”
“Hmm, what was that Rawlings? Oh yes, I suppose you’re right.” It had happened and he hadn’t even registered. The long-awaited role-reversal. He had lost the power in the scene with no awareness of it happening. It must have happened around the time he realised he was hard looking at Peter’s arse and wondering how it would feel to strike it, what sort of a reaction he’d get.
“But you agree that six of the best is what was called for?”
“Oh definitely definitely. There was only one course open to me!”
“Right, Sir. Hand me the birch.” No pretence of deference coming from Peter now.
Peter straightened from the desk, pulling up his trousers and fastening them swiftly. Dudley handed the birch to Peter as he turned to face him, revealing his own sizeable erection straining at the front of his dress pants. The tailoring did absolutely nothing to disguise it.
“Now bend over, Sir.” Peter’s tone brooked no argument.
As Dudley bent forward over the desk, he realised exactly how much restraint Peter had shown to stop moving against the desk and shivered.
“Be still, Sir.” Dudley shivered at that quietly commanding tone.
The last thing he heard before the lights went down was the whistle of the birch through the air behind him.