Saturday, 11 September 2010
Going for Gold 2012 - Serial - part 5
I suppose, I should rewind things a little, and explain my fascination with CP. What started it off, or became the epiphany for me?
It was the early eighties, I was studying at university, I won't say which one, but suffice to say the town is home to a majestic stadium.
My course on sports psychology, also involved sports nutrition, then very much a field in it's infancy, and something I cared little about. Our tutor in sports nutrition, was a young lady called Miss Caroline Littlewood, quite slight and pretty, high on the male students wish list of female tutors and professors. She always had an affable nature, and a ready smile for everyone. A soft touch. So we thought.
I had an assignment to write about the benefits, and disadvantages of carbohydrate loading. To be honest I couldn't be arsed to do it, but my friend Debs had done hers way before time to hand them in, so I asked a favour of her. I wanted to look at her notes. As it happened Debs had one of those new fangled word processors (we are talking early eighties), so it was all to easy for me to just change the date, and the names at the beginning and end.
All to easy, so that's what I did.
The day after handing in "my" paper, Miss Littlewood came up to me as I was leaving the canteen. Today there was no smile on her heart shaped face, and her blue eyes seemed to have fiery anger to them.
"I need to discuss your paper with you," She said abruptly. "tonight in my classroom, seven fifteen. Be there. If you aren't there, I will take it you are packing your bags, because you will be off this course."
She then walked off leaving me no time to answer, or make up an excuse, of course I knew what it all was about. I just didn't expect this kind of reaction.
I made my way into the deserted block, when I say deserted, I mean empty of classes, the only person I passed was Dominica, a young eastern european who was working her way through uni, by doing cleaning work in the faculty. I reached the classroom, knocked and entered. Miss Littlewood sat her desk, with papers out in front of her.
"How stupid do you think I am? Or did you think I wasn't going to read the work handed in? I have already spoken with, and dealt with your friend Deborah." She said to me barely looking up from her desk. This isn't the happy smiling tutor that I was used to. I cough to clear my throat, but before I could answer, she continued talking/scolding. "This could get you thrown out, do you realise that. This is cheating, this is showing me disrespect, this is not going unpunished." If I thought she looked fiery earlier today, she was now incandescent. "Deborah decided to take my punishment, rather than being sent home," She said rising from her chair, and going over to a cupboard, and to my shock pulling out a cane. The thought of Debs getting a caning, started a stirring in my groin, I was still not taking in the full implications of what she was saying. "Have you ever been caned?" She asks me, flexing the the rattan rod in her hands.
"Well yes, I.. I.. was caned at school, a couple of times." I struggle out.
"How many did you receive?"
"F.. f.. four, miss." To my amazement, this berating was making me harder.
"Four! No wonder it did no good. Deborah received six from me half an hour ago, and you have the choice of twelve, or going home. Don't look at me like that, that is the only option available to you. I will not be made a fool of."
What could I do, I knew it would hurt, but then it would be over. Twelve though, four used sting like mad. But what could I do? So I nodded.
"Right prepare yourself." She said.
So I bent over,fingers on toes.
"What are you doing boy? I don't know about you, but when I was at school the cane was always on the bare behind."
An image of her bent over, and bottom up flashed through my mind, my cock was now throbbing in full. "You can't be serious?" I asked trying not to sound like John McEnroe.
"Never more so, now trousers and underpants around your ankles, or get out and start packing."
I start slowly fumbling with my belt.
"Hurry up, or I'll loosen it for you, and if I do I'll take it off, and you'll feel it across the back of your legs."
This threat spurred me on, and in no time my trousers, and underpants were indeed around my ankles. I stood there in front of her, my hands covering my erect cock, and now high, and tight balls.
"Move your hands." She said matter of factly. I reluctantly moved them.
"Get rid of that." She said.
"That." She said again, giving the underside of my erection a sharp hit with her cane.
"You mean you want me to... ?" I asked, stuck for the correct wording.
"Yes, do you realise how disrespectful, and annoying it is, to have you standing there, your body saying to me that you are expecting to have sex with me?" She replied, handing me a box of paper hankies, no doubt left out on her desk for Deb's tears.
Feeling defeated, I clutch at my cock, and start rubbing it slowly, standing there shamed, no one had ever watched me do this, lets face it as things go, nothing else could be much more private.
"Oh, hurry up boy I haven't got all night." She said.
I tried to bring to terms with myself, that this was the same tutor who would always laugh, and joke her way through all her classes. I look at her, and there seemed to be a change about her. Gone was the temper in her eyes, replaced by what could only be called a confident look. The look of someone in complete control. I came. Harder than I expected, shooting sperm clear of my catching tissues, and wetting the tiled floor at my feet. As I wiped myself clean, and milking out the remaining drops, I heard her voice through my mental fog.
"And clean up that mess on the floor, then we can get this over with."
Her words pricked me, as I bent down and cleared up my semen trail, I felt on the brink of tears ,but I tried hard not to let it show. I had decided I was going to take this like a man.
"We'll start with six strokes, and then you can have a little break." She told me as I returned to my standing position, now deflated, and shrunken down below.
I quickly bent over, my bottom towards her, I wanted out of here as quickly as possible. The first stroke landed, catching me by surprise. Surprised at how hard such a slight female could deliver a stroke. As the pain started to radiate outward, the second fell, then the others came in fast succession. The pain was incredible, I seemed to be looking out through a mist, as I felt my eyes start to water ,but I held back the tears.
"Right stand up, hands on head." Miss Littlewood, barked out.
As I stood up, I thought to myself, halfway I won't be here much longer. How wrong I was.
The door opened, and in walked Dominica.
I turned, red faced, to face the door. She looked shocked at what she saw before her.
"I'm sorry, miss, I thought all rooms empty, I come back later maybe." She said in her broken english.
"No, no need for that," Replied Miss Littlewood, to my further horror. "come up here, Dominica."
The girl approached the front of the classroom, the look of curiosity on her face, was beyond words.
"You wish to be a teacher when you return to Poland don't you?" Asked Miss Littlewood.
The girl nodded, making no attempt to hide the fact that she was staring at my genitals. She actually looked at my deflated, and limp cock, then looked me directly in the eyes, before looking back down at my now rapidly shrinking manhood.
"Well, Dominica, this would be a good opportunity for you to learn how to deal with an incredibly bad boy." As Miss Littlewood said this, I realised that my final six would have an audience.
"Back over you go as before, fingers on toes." I bent again, tears running down my face, not from the pain, but the humiliation causing the most part of my discomfort. "Now watch, the trick is in the wrist movement, not in the actual swing of the cane..."
The stroke hit me, and I gasped in pain ,gritting myself for the next, but it didn't come.
"See, It's the little flick at the end of the movement that does it, watch again.."
This time I shout out as the stroke hits home.
"Sometimes,j ust for a little surprise, well shock really you could do this...."
I scream out in agony, as the rattan crosses the back of my thighs.
"Would you like to try?" Miss Littlewood asks to my disbelief, and to my horror Dominica says.
"Yes please, miss, that would be very good."
Dominica delivered the next three strokes with enthusiastic relish, painful as they were they weren't as bad as the previous nine.
"Right, make yourself decent, and get out," Miss Littlewood said to my relief. "and don't forget to take those hankies with you."
I never missed another assignment set by Miss Littlewood, in fact she never mentioned the episode again. I learnt many things from her. So much so, that sports nutrition went on to become my forte. The most important thing she taught me though, was how to deliver a good caning.
A lesson I learnt very well.