Www.Malespank.Net

🛑 ALL INFORMATION CLICK HERE 👈🏻👈🏻👈🏻

Www.Malespank.Net
The contents of this story archive may not reflect the views or opinions of the site owners, who most certainly DO NOT sanction ANY abuse of children.
copyright © 2005-2022 admin ·AT· malespank.net

The contents of this story archive may not reflect the views or opinions of the site owners, who most certainly DO NOT sanction ANY abuse of children.
copyright © 2005-2022 admin ·AT· malespank.net

There are new genre and content filters added that may not yet be fully supported by current archive tagging.
It is safe to select these options. Re-tagging the archive to improve search options is an ongoing process.
Please help us by using the dedicated section in our forum to report stories with missing or incorrect tags!



Help the archive! Please tell us
if any story tags are missing or incorrect.




This story is very well-written

This story is HOT!


You can also discuss this story in the New MMSA Forum .
The contents of this story archive may not reflect the views or opinions of the site owners, who most certainly DO NOT sanction ANY abuse of children.
copyright © 2005-2022 admin ·AT· malespank.net

The headmaster of Bolingbroke School frowned. He’d agreed to this appointment, but he wished he hadn’t. He
knew why James Benedict wanted to see him, but the situation was hopeless. Benedict’s younger brother Paul
had flouted the authority of the Bolingbroke staff for the last time. As much as Dr. Evans liked James
Benedict, he intended to close his ears to any pleas on Paul’s behalf.


The knock on the door came promptly at 4. Evans called out, Come!


James Benedict entered and stood respectfully until Evans invited him to sit down. The boy was handsome, but
his good looks were of the sort that often went unnoticed. Unflattering spectacles with heavy frames hid his
fine, intelligent eyes. His dark hair was thick and wavy, but perhaps it contrasted too sharply with the
paleness of his skin. He was neither tall nor short, but his slimness created the illusion of height.
Mandatory physical activity ensured his body was fit, but he was lithe rather than muscular.


Evans had a lot of time for James Benedict. Even though he usually preferred to fill prefect positions with
boys who were sporty and more generally popular, he’d offered one to James over the objections of staff. To
his astonishment, James had declined, saying,


I appreciate the honour, Sir, but I’d rather not. Please don’t think I’m ungrateful for the
opportunity.


Evans had pressed him a little. Benedict, I’d like you to explain your reasons for declining the
position. Perhaps if I know what they are, I can help you resolve them. If you’re concerned the duties will
take up too much of your time—I know are conscientious about your studies—I’m sure your work
won’t suffer.


Benedict had stared at the floor a few seconds before raising his eyes to meet Evans’. Thank you, but
it’s not that, Sir. I don’t think I could carry out my duties properly. I’m not opposed to corporal
punishment, at least not in principle, but I can’t see myself beating other boys.


Benedict’s reply had left Evens nonplussed. He’d pushed further.


Why not? You say you’re not opposed to corporal punishment in principle .


No, Sir. I accept that it works well for many boys. I also accept that capital punishment has value to
society. I can’t see myself in the role of hangman any more than I can see myself using a cane to inflict
pain on another human being. Perhaps my position has a touch of hypocrisy, but I have the wrong temperament
for the role.


Evans had finally accepted Benedict’s refusal as final and appointed his second choice. He’d respected
Benedict’s self-knowledge and honesty.


Unfortunately, Evans did not share the same degree of self-knowledge or he would have recognised his regard
for Benedict wasn’t strictly that of scholarly mentor. He was attracted to the boy. The attraction was not
merely physical, though the physical part was undeniable. Benedict’s intellect was the more powerful
attraction. Many had called Evans brilliant, and he had been happy to let them do so. He recognized in
Benedict actual brilliance. It humbled him, and, to his credit, it didn’t arouse his envy. He sublimated his
attraction into a determination to nurture and mentor.


Evans had been delighted when Benedict’s younger brother entered Bolingbroke. He’d expected to find fresh
clay on which he could put his own stamp, as he flattered himself he’d done with James. Delight had first
morphed into doubts. Then, the doubts have given way to certainty. Paul Benedict would never be an asset to
the school.


The thirteen year old had soon found ways to establish himself as a personality distinct from his brother.
He was bright, but he refused to work. He turned his intelligence to creating ingenious mischief. However,
he was nothing loath to more mundane mischief. He treated authority with insolence. He took punishments with
sullen contempt for those meting them out. He was also a corrupter of other boys, who followed where he led.


James Benedict had reached the sixth form without ever experiencing a serious instance of corporal
punishment. On two occasions, he been caught in the fallout of a collective punishment. In the fourth form,
he’d taken his turn to bend over the end of his bed along with his dormmates for three strokes of Mr.
Henderson’s slipper. In fifth form, he had joined an entire class for four strokes of the cane after the
tearful resignation of a female staff member. On neither occasion had James participated in the activities
that had provoked the punishments. He had taken his share of the punishment, however, without complaint.


Paul Benedict, on the other hand, soon developed the hide of a rhinoceros. His recalcitrance was an
unfortunate catalyst that made latent sadism manifest itself. Otherwise reasonable masters and prefects
became determined to break him, and several crossed the line into brutality in their efforts to humble him.
Evans himself had twice caned Paul. He’d felt the challenge in the boy’s attitude and struck harder than his
good judgement approved. He’d admitted to himself he’d been overly severe, while accomplishing no useful
purpose. He’d succeed in breaking through Paul’s show of stoicism, but the actual attitude was impregnable.


After a staff meeting to discuss Paul Benedict’s latest transgression, he’d reached the conclusion the boy
must leave. Perhaps another school could find some way to reach him. He hoped so. However, he realised the
situation as it stood was untenable for both the school and the boy. He wanted to finalise the details of
Paul’s departure, but before he could do that, he had to hear James.


As James sat, Evans spoke brusquely:


I know why you’re here, Benedict, but believe me, I won’t be swayed on this matter.


James didn’t appear unduly distressed at such an inauspicious beginning.


I quite understand your position, Sir, but I ask only that you give me a hearing. If what I say doesn’t
change your mind, I’ll accept your decision and say no more.


Sir, I think we can agree that Bolingbroke’s methods have failed with Paul. But, surely, Sir, the school
shares responsibility for that failure with him. I mean no disrespect, but where is the logic in imagining
that more beatings will succeed where one has already failed? It’s as futile as shouting ever more loudly at
a foreigner in the hopes that increased volume will result in spontaneous acquisition of English.


Evans raised his eyebrows. I’ve come to the same conclusion, Benedict. That is precisely why I’ve decided
your brother must find his schooling elsewhere.


Yes, but, Sir, no one ever tried different methods with Paul before now. It was just more and more
beating, even when it should have been clear the punishment was only hardening him against the school. I
know my brother, and he’s not bad. He’s reckless, certainly. He’s impulsive. He has little innate respect
for rules or personages, but one can win his respect. He’ll never give it because someone demands it.


Evans frowned. I’ll accept you know your brother better than I, Benedict, but do you not think fairness
demands the school treat all boys the same? If a dose of the slipper or cane is the prescribed punishment,
how can it be fair to the other boys if the staff and prefects have to cajole one boy into good
behavior?


Benedict shook his head, as if to express sorrow at his headmaster’s failure of understanding. Sir, that
is just one way to view fairness, and I think it’s a very narrow one. Briggs is diabetic. Does fairness
demand every boy get insulin and carry around glucose tablets?


Evans colored. That is a false equivalence. A medical condition is hardly the same thing as contempt for
rules. Boys can understand special treatment when there is clear reason for it. They won’t accept separate
rules for behavior for one boy when they suffer the consequences of their own rule breaking.


Sir, I’m not asking you to give Paul special treatment indefinitely. I just ask that you allow him a... a
reset, if you will. Give him a reason to see you and the rest of the staff as something other than
authoritarians out to break his spirit.


And just how would I do that? he retorted.


I’ve given this some thought, and I think what he needs is a jolt to make him stop focusing on himself.
You must make it clear you’re not giving him a second chance but that someone else is purchasing that
for him.


The pale skin over James’ cheekbones showed a pink flush. Sir, you know what a whipping boy is, of
course. Now, my understanding of a whipping boy’s purpose is to arouse shame in the one who committed the
misbehavior for the pain another suffers. This principle is only sound to the extent the culprit has a
conscience. I believe Paul has a conscience. He is fond of me. I propose you have him brought to your study
this evening and tell him that I am taking his punishment for spitting at Mr. Hopkins. Then, you will tell
him that because I’ve offered myself as his whipping boy, I will be the sufferer for any future misbehavior
unless and until he wins the privilege of once again suffering his own punishments.


I suggest you have each of his teachers prepare weekly reports. If each of those reports for a particular
week reflects good behavior and conduct, then he has earned the right to take one punishment for himself. In
this way, he has a strong incentive to do well, which should break the cycle of bad behavior and punishment.
He will respond to praise when he earns it. Encouragement will make him eager to continue in the staff’s
good graces.


Evans shook his head regretfully. It’s an intriguing idea, Benedict, but I couldn’t possibly carry out
such an experiment. In the first place, it would be most unjust to beat you, particularly as severely as I’d
have to do for such egregious conduct.


I understand your scruples, Sir, but I’m quite willing.


Then, there is the possibility that seeing me punish you in his stead will only make your brother
worse.


I suppose that is possible, but if both of us make it clear this is my free choice, I think he’ll respond
as I’ve predicted. Since you’ve decided he is incorrigible, is there any real risk in the experiment?


James shrugged. You could ask them, but I’m eighteen, so I can consent for myself. I doubt they’d raise
any objections. They’ve encouraged me to be my brother’s keeper in other ways. I’d hope they’d welcome my
intervention to give him another chance here.


Evans closed his eyes. His common sense warned against agreeing to Benedict’s idea, but he’d always found a
certain amount of risk taking advisable. The scheme was certainly unorthodox, but it might work. Of course,
he disliked his role in this. He thought sourly that Benedict, who didn’t relish the job of executioner for
himself, didn’t mind delegating it to his headmaster.


In a more primitive part of his brain, Evans was curious. How would James Benedict, a seeming aesthete, deal
with a harsh caning? The boy wasn’t completely inexperienced, but this would test him—and in front of
his younger brother—both mentally and physically.


James walked away, immersed in his own thoughts. He not only loved his younger brother but was also very
fond of him. His desire to help Paul was real. He thought his plan could succeed. However, there was a
self-serving side to this. All his life, James had been the proverbial good boy, which was at odds with his
fascination for corporal punishment. The spankings at home, and later, the beatings at school, about which
he fantasised, were the lot of other boys. It simply wasn’t in James’ nature to act out to engineer
punishment. Instead, he’d lived vicariously on the excitement of witnessing others’ beatings. His empathy
for the sufferers was at constant odds with the titillation he felt. What he witnessed or heard about fuel
his arousal during moments of solitary pleasure.


He had never expected to the offer of a prefect’s badge. It had come as a shock. In declining the
responsibility, he had been honest: he did not have the right temperament. He feared he might like punishing
boys too much, however. He was certain he could control his actions, but he shrank from the possibility of
deriving pleasure, even secretly, from inflicting punishment. He had what his father, an astute businessman,
would call a conflict of interest .


James had puzzled over the origins of his interest in corporal punishment and found no satisfactory answers.
His personal experience was so limited, he was certain it wasn’t conditioned. On the contrary, the interest
went back further than even his earliest experience as a recipient. While the fantasy of corporal punishment
was an essential ingredient of masturbation, James hadn’t found the actual experiences pleasurable at all.
The pain was just pain in the moment, with a strong element of embarrassment. James had coped by treating
the punishment as a challenge. If he were able to subdue his body to endure the pain, then he won. Failure
meant humiliation.


James realised his challenges thus far had been minor. He envied Paul. If Evans agreed to allow James to
take Paul’s punishment, James would have his challenge without the inconvenience of spoiling his own record.
He also acknowledged to himself that he liked the light in which such a sacrifice would place him. It was
the paradox of pride in his humility, which required innocence.


Paul Benedict had been on tenterhooks for hours. He’d expected a summons to the headmaster’s office, but it
hadn’t come. The uncertainty was punishment in itself. He had little understanding of the impulses that had
brought him to the verge of expulsion. He hated beatings, though he found a grim satisfaction in confounding
his persecutors. The more they tried to break him, the more resolved he was to resist. In his mind, the
staff and prefects of Bolingbroke were no different than the torturers of the Inquisition. He despised them.


When a prefect he particularly disliked, a spotty boy named Greene, came that evening at 8 to escort him to
the headmaster’s study, he stiffened his spine. Whether he faced another beating or expulsion, he was
determined to give Dr. Evans no quarter. He smiled, for he was well aware that Dr. Evans shared the same
resolution. The fool had no idea of the contempt in which Paul held him.


When he reached the study, he was shocked to find his older brother there before him, seated in an armchair.
He blurted out,


Evans replied in James’ stead. Sit down, Benedict Minor. He indicated a second chair beside Paul,
before seating himself on a settee.


I’ve brought you here tonight to give you a final chance. Your brother made the suggestion, and, while I
have reservations about his idea, I have agreed to try it.


Paul glared at James. I don’t want another chance. James, you should have stayed out of this.


Evans raised his eyebrows. Your wants and wishes play no role in my decisions, Benedict Minor. I suggest
you listen carefully. I have not brought you here tonight to expel you from the school. Neither have I
brought you here to waste my time and energy in administering another futile beating. I’ve brought you here
to witness.


Your brother James has offered himself as your whipping boy.


Paul started to interrupt, but James laid his hand on Paul’s arm. Listen.


He will take the severe beating that you earned. He is doing this of his own volition in the hopes that
concern for his hide will influence your behaviour, as you’ve shown no concern for your own.


Paul’s face was red with anger. You can’t do that. Leave James out of this. It’s nothing to do with
him.


James looked at Paul with a sorrowful expression. I’m sorry, Paul, but I’ve made it my business. You are
my brother.


Evans continued, In a few minutes, I will give your brother eight strokes of my heaviest cane on his
unprotected backside. I will take no pleasure in inflicting what will be an agonizing punishment on an
innocent boy. I won’t even have the satisfaction of administering justice. Were he not the architect of this
plan, who had volunteered himself, I would not agree to do so.


If you have a particle of manhood in you, Benedict Minor, you will feel those strokes more keenly than
you would if I inflicted them on you. I hope the strokes your brother endures will imprint themselves on
your soul rather than your flesh and move you to think.


However, this caning is not to be the end of the matter. It only accounts for your most recent outrage.
Your brother will take any future beatings you earn, and you will witness the pain he suffers on your
behalf. From this point forward, taking your own beatings will be a privilege you must earn by an unsullied
record for an entire week in both work and conduct.


Paul, horrified, could only say, No!


Yes, Benedict Minor. Your brother has asked to be your keeper, and, now, you must become his. You will
either care enough about him to reform your behaviour, or you will put him through the ordeals that have
done so little to effect change in your attitude.


Now, understand me, Benedict Minor. You will sit, and you will watch. You will not interfere. If you do,
you will add to Benedict Major’s suffering. Furthermore, I will not hesitate to have prefects come in to
restrain you. Think whether that will be kind to your brother to have others witness him in the humiliating
position of bending over with his trousers down for the cane.


Paul glared at James. You had no right to do this to me, James! I’ll never forgive you.


James sighed. All that anyone asks is that you behave reasonably and do your work.


You’re blackmailing me, and you know it!


James smiled for the first time and replied cheerfully, Yes, I do know it. It’s emotional blackmail, but
it’s also benevolent blackmail.


Evans rose and took a cane from an umbrella stand. Addressing James, he said,


Shall we proceed with this unpleasant business?


Now that the moment had come, James’ heart raced. He was both excited and afraid. The next few minutes would
be difficult, but if he acquitted himself well, the experience would fuel his fires for a very long time. He
intended to be mindful of every nuance of what lay ahead so he could relive it.


He replied, Yes, Sir. I’m ready. He stood but looked uncertain, as he’d never been in this situation.
What am I meant to do?


Come over to this settee. You can bend over the side. First, however, you must lower yo
Feminization Hentai
Rough Incest Stories
Tranny Stroker