I'm pretty eager too! But you and I will have to wait until next week to discover her fate.
"I see that we are convincing you of the validity of my lecture, Mr. Langton. I propose to give you just one more, then I shall invite Miss Jamieson to come up and administer the last three, making up your total of eight points. Will that arrangement be all right with you?"
He was playing with Stephen; the mockery in his voice giving him away. Stephen willed himself not to react and tightened his grip on the chair. Twisting his head away from the Reverend, he found himself looking at the three girls. Vicky and Amanda were enjoying every minute of his torment, of that he had no doubt. Their eyes were bright and they were almost salivating in their excitement. He looked at Ruth, made eye contact, and immediately wished he hadn't. He found some sympathy in her gaze, certainly, but there was also a fire in those eyes, a vitality which made her look devastatingly attractive, but also quite daunting. He knew instantly that he could not expect Ruth to give him an easy passage.
Unexpectedly, he felt the material of his shorts tighten as his penis stiffened at the thought of Ruth changing places with the Reverend. Oh God, what if she takes my shorts down, just as those two vicious minxes had done to each other that morning? His cock almost burst through the crotch of his shorts at the very thought of it, then he screamed aloud as the Reverend administered the hardest stroke so far, diagonally across the ridged welt which he knew must have formed after the first four.
Stephen remained bent over, grasping the chair, the fierce throbbing driving everything else from his mind. Dimly, as if the voice was in another room, he heard the Reverend invite Ruth Jamieson to step forward. Stephen turned to look at the class. Ruth was just getting out of her seat, while Vicky and Amanda leered at him, obviously relishing every second of his pain and humiliation. Now the Reverend was telling Ruth to take her place, and handing her the cane. She stepped behind him, out of his field of vision, and a few seconds later he felt her soft hands, cool and firm, grasping the waistband of his shorts.
"Oh God, no!" He almost stood up in revolt as his worst fears were realised. His shorts slid inexorably down. To his overwhelming embarrassment, Ruth had to use both hands to ease the garment over his bulging cock, which was scarcely contained by the jock strap he wore beneath his shorts.
"I see that you have decided not to spare your colleague's blushes, Miss Jamieson. So be it. Three strokes, if you please, and make them good ones. I want to see that you have learned something this afternoon."
Stephen hung his head, as if not looking in their direction would somehow make the exultant Vicky and Amanda disappear. He knew that Ruth, behind him, must have a full and uninterrupted view of his bare backside, and it could not be a pretty sight. The Reverend Mould clearly had a very strong right arm and had used it to devastating effect. He had placed nearly all his strokes squarely, and close together, only the last one crossing any of its predecessors. The result was a single broad, burning throbbing stripe which brought tears to his eyes.
"Now, remember what I said; make them good ones, and use your wrist to control the stroke."
The impact of Ruth's first stroke made Stephen gasp, but it was more a sigh of relief than pain. She had struck him at the base of his buttocks, with an upward motion, but there was little force behind the blow. Compared to the Reverend Mould's flogging, Ruth's effort was a mere bee sting.
"No! No! NO! If you cannot do better than that, Miss Jamieson, you will be shortly receiving some personal tuition! Now try again, only properly this time!"
The Reverend Mould really sounded very annoyed. Stephen cringed, waiting for Ruth to follow her instructions, beads of sweat springing out on his forehead. As he had feared, the impact of the next blow was much harder and he could not prevent himself from yelling out loud.
"I'm sorry, Stephen." The apology left Ruth's lips just as the cane lashed down for a third time. Sorry? I'll make you bloody sorry when it comes to my turn, he thought, in the split second before the heavy, liberally knotted rattan bit right into the crease of his bottom, just at the top of his thighs. Through the red mist which engulfed him, he heard himself shriek with pain.
"You may get up now, Mr. Langton." For the first time since the little group had arrived at Damocles Priory, there was a break in the calm of the Reverend's voice. Stephen slowly straightened up, grasping at his bottom as he did so.
"Bravely borne, if I may say so. I suggest that you might be better able to concentrate for the rest of the afternoon if you use the short break, which I propose we now take, to apply some Moon Balm." He paused and looked sternly at Ruth. "As for you, Miss Jamieson, I have to say that your performance was not to the high standard which I expect on such occasions. Your aim and lack of technique suggested that you had not been paying full attention to my lecture. And as for saying 'sorry' to a culprit under punishment, I have never heard of such a thing! What kind of respect will you command if you are constantly apologising to those you are chastising?"
Stephen bent down, the movement causing fresh shafts of pain to lance through his nether regions. Gingerly, he retrieved his shorts from around his ankles and eased them up over his roasting backside. Through the blur of the tears which he hoped were not visible to the eagerly watching girls, he saw that Ruth looked as cowed as he felt. Her shoulders sagged as the Reverend continued his tongue lashing.
"I'm sorry, Reverend Mould, but - well, I just found it difficult to get into the role. I really didn't want to hurt Stephen - Mr. Langton, I mean."
"My dear girl, I really don't think you can have been listening. In the first place, you should have divined by now that no serious harm is done to our students on this course. A short-term discomfiture is all that anyone ever undergoes, in the interests of learning. In the second place, in order for all concerned to gain the maximum educational benefit from this course, it is absolutely necessary that you should immerse yourself in the role assigned to you, as indeed all your colleagues have done."
"I'm terribly sorry." It was almost a whisper. Even in his present state, Stephen felt some sympathy for Ruth. He could certainly feel that her attempts had been more effective than the Reverend was suggesting. He could feel each individual cut, and her final one, in particular, stung like the devil. He suddenly realised how much he was looking forward to the opportunity, which would undoubtedly be presented to him soon, of seeing Ruth's shapely bottom squirming and wriggling as he took his revenge. Whether she would ever let him achieve any further ambitions after that experience, remained to be seen.
"Oh I'm sure you are!" The Reverend's reply was cold. "There is scant time to make amends on this part of the course. I can only hope that you take what little time is left very seriously. Also you had better make a particular effort in composing the essay which I require of you afterwards, or you may yet find yourself enjoying the "duffer's" prize which I reserve for the student who provides the least satisfactory work. Your colleagues would enjoy witnessing that event more than you would enjoy being the centre of attention, I can assure you."
Stephen had stood patiently, rubbing his bottom and thinking of what he would like to do to Ruth, while the Reverend was speaking. Now, taking advantage of the pause in the conversation, he mumbled an apology and made his escape, each step sending spears of pain through his backside. When he finally reached his room, he kicked the door shut behind him and lost no time in dragging his shorts off. The cool touch of the Moon Balm, scooped greedily from the pot by his bedside, brought a sigh of heartfelt relief.
In a matter of minutes, the searing pain subsided to a bearable ache and Stephen began to gather his thoughts. His shame at having had his bare bottom caned by a beautiful girl in front of two other very attractive young ladies, was tempered, to some extent, by the knowledge that the audience must have felt much the same sensations when they had been dealt with earlier that morning. As for Ruth, he blushed to the roots as he visualised the scene from her viewpoint. She could not have failed to notice his monumental erection, which had not subsided one iota in the intervening period. Hell! She had certainly made him pay for it.
He wondered what Reverend Mould had in mind for the finale of the day. It was pretty obvious that Ruth was in for a mighty stiff punishment; her points total was higher than any of the group. And he, Stephen Langton, was going to be instrumental in dishing it out. He trembled in anticipation. It was not that he wanted to really hurt her, although making her bottom smart in return for the stripes she had given him would be sweet revenge. It was more the thought of denuding her; of what he might see, and the sexual opportunities that might open up as a result of some hot and heavy action, which excited him.
Stephen suddenly realised that, if he was not careful, his excitement would make him lose control. He headed for the bathroom and quickly stripped off his T-shirt. He turned the shower on to full pressure with the control set to cold. Then he bravely stepped in. The icy jets of water effectively reduced the size of his immediate problem, but did nothing to reduce his tingling sense of anticipation. His body goose pimpled with excitement, he rapidly towelled himself down and grabbed his clothes. With truly indecent haste, he rushed back down the stairs, eager to discover what fate the Reverend had in store for Ruth.
The story so far: