“DON’T TELL ME YOU’RE IN TROUBLE already?” Nampo stopped at the door, staring at the glowering youth, who sat slumped in a chair outside the Headmaster’s chambers.
Kyoshi shrugged. “I didn’t even do anything,” he replied, bitterly.
“Hmmm. You’re off to a great start. Your first week here and you’ve already been sent to the Headmaster. That’s gotta be some kind of record.”
“Fuck off,” Kyoshi answered, irritated.
Nampo laughed. “No need to get all pissy about it. I’m just warning you, Headmaster Mitsuwa has a wicked arm. You’d better watch yourself in there, or you’ll find out.”
Kyoshi tossed his head. “Whatever. I’m not worried.” He crossed his arms on his chest, staring back at Nampo as if challenging him to disagree.
“You’re braver than me, then,” Nampo smiled. “I’d be scared shitless if I were you. My roommate got sent to him last term, and he gave him fifteen strikes with that nasty little whip of his. Kept me up all night with his pathetic moaning.”
“Yeah well. I’m not some wimp who doesn’t know how to take his punishment. I’ll take whatever I’ve got coming, and that will be that.”
Nampo studied the youth for a moment, marveling over his good looks, which had already attracted considerable notice among the other residents of Kensington Hall, where Kyoshi had been assigned. His longish, dark hair looked silky soft, and his eyes, black and glittering, gave him a mysterious, seductive quality. But his rather surly, brooding disposition had put off those who had tried to approach him.
Kyoshi didn’t seem to be interested in making friends; in fact, he didn’t seem all that interested in being at Valemont, the most prestigious school in the northern provinces. When it was rumored he’d been caught fondling a classmate, Nampo had been sent by his dorm-mates to find out the facts.
“So, what did you do exactly?”
Kyoshi shrugged. “Just screwed around with a cute first year.”
Nampo grinned. So, the rumor was true. “Huh. And…who was it?”
“Don’t know. Never caught his name.”
His name. Encouraged, Nampo leaned forward. “Did you actually fuck or what?”
“No. I hardly got into his pants before we were fucking busted.”
“Are you into just guys, or girls, too?”
Nampo stared at the handsome young man, fascinated. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned about facing Headmaster Mitsuwa, whose formidable, no-nonsense, corporal approach to discipline instilled pure terror among the residents of Valemont Academy for Distinguished Young Men. No matter what the infraction, Headmaster Mitsuwa answered it with his infamous crop whip; it was merely a matter of determining how many strikes were necessary to complete his answer.
“So, I guess you’re used to being punished, then?” he asked, curious.
“Fuck yeah. He’ll have to swing pretty bloody hard to get my attention.”
Almost as if this comment had been overheard, the door to the Headmaster’s chambers opened, and Headmaster Sho Mitsuwa stood, arms across his chest, staring at Kyoshi, a look of uncompromising sternness on his face.
“See ya,” Nampo whispered, rushing off.
“Kyoshi Sayuki.” The Headmaster’s voice was surprisingly soft, almost disconcertingly so; for the way he stared unwaveringly at Kyoshi was decidedly unnerving.
“Please step inside my chambers.”
With a sigh, Kyoshi rose, and with deliberate nonchalance, ambled toward the Headmaster.
Their eyes met in a moment of challenge.
Kyoshi was a bit surprised when he saw the Headmaster; he had expected some fat, ancient fellow with an ugly mug. Headmaster Mitsuwa was young, and undeniably attractive. His hair, longer than Kyoshi would have expected, just touched his shoulders, and his eyes met his gaze unwaveringly, an unusual shade of impenetrable grey. The smallest hint of a smile tugged at his otherwise stern face, and as Kyoshi approached him, the Headmaster did not move out of the way.
Stepping past him, Kyoshi was close enough to feel his presence, even catch a whiff of his distinctive, intoxicatingly virile scent, and found that he shivered, his heart beating faster.
Closing the door behind him, the Headmaster then walked back to his chair behind a great wooden desk, and with a disarming air of relaxed ease, sat back, putting his feet up on the desk.
“Sit down,” he commanded.
Kyoshi did so, his eyes immediately drawn to the long, thin riding crop that was lying across his desk. So. He was to be disciplined.
He snorted, shaking his head as he sat down. “You find something amusing?”
“If you’re going to discipline me, let’s get on with it. Why don’t we skip over the pointless lecture and get straight to my punishment.”
The Headmaster smiled at this, remaining silent for a moment as he studied the boy, marveling over his physical beauty. He could tell immediately; this one would be trouble. The way he sat slumped in his chair, the way his eyes challenged him, the unveiled disrespect in his voice.
He’d spent the last hour studying Kyoshi’s records. The boy was brilliant, scoring highest of all the students currently at the Academy on his entrance exams. He had been expelled from two world-renowned institutions for his behavior, and the Headmaster at the last had written, that he was “amoral, anti- social, with no regard to the sanctity of our institutions, and no respect for rules of any kind.” Another had called him “dangerous, and a bad influence on promising young men.”
But apparently Kyoshi also had an extraordinarily wealthy guardian, who had donated a ridiculously huge sum of money to the Academy in exchange for Kyoshi’s acceptance. And Valemont, like most such institutions, could certainly be bought when it came to admitting students, particularly in this case, when the boy’s academic record was sterling, his cognitive capabilities unsurpassed. His disciplinary probations and expulsions were simply overlooked; and Headmaster Mitsuwa found it somewhat annoying that no one from the Board had even alerted him to the young man’s presence, given his rather unpromising disciplinary record.
It was inevitable that Kyoshi would eventually end up in his chambers; and the Headmaster found it almost humorous that the unruly youth was already seated before him, not a week into his admittance at the Academy.
He watched the young man’s growing impatience with amusement. “When you come into my chambers, Kyoshi, you will do as I say. If I choose to bore you with pointless lectures, I shall do so. And if I choose to discipline you, as is highly likely in this case, I will administer it when I am ready, and not a moment before. Is that understood?”
“Bloody hell,” Kyoshi breathed, letting his head fall back against the chair.
Suppressing a smile, Mitsuwa continued. “Now. I’ve just taken a look at your…record. I must say, your former Headmasters had quite a good deal to say about you.”
“I bet they did,” Kyoshi laughed. “Those pricks.”
“Might I remind you that you are in the presence of your Headmaster now. Such disrespectful commentary about other Headmasters will not be tolerated.”
Kyoshi sighed, looking away. “I didn’t want to be at those schools, just like I don’t want to be here.”
“Tell me, Kyoshi. Why have you come to our great Academy, if you have no desire to be here?”
“Because my uncle won’t give me my fucking inheritance until I graduate from some bloody Academy or another.”
“Ah. And that would be,” now the Headmaster peered at his records, “Kiichi Sayuki?”
“Then I am assuming, you’re to inherit quite a fortune?”
The boy shrugged. “A couple million anyway.”
“Then, if this is a requirement for your procuring this inheritance, why have you not tried harder to finish your studies? You’ve been expelled…twice, I see.”
Now Kyoshi’s eyes glimmered angrily. “The only reason I got kicked out is because everywhere I go, tight-asses control everything. They’re always forcing me to abide by ridiculous, pointless rules. I’m just trying to live my life the way I want to live it. Why should I have to follow someone’s else’s twisted notion of morality? It’s fucking absurd.”
Mitsuwa listened to the boy’s impassioned diatribe, fascinated. He found he rather admired the youth for his courage to challenge authority and all that stood in the way of what he desired. He admired him; but he also knew that, as Headmaster, he would have to punish him.
“Be that as it may, I am afraid that here at Valemont, you will be expected to conform to our expectations and rules regarding your behavior. I highly recommend you consider taking a course or two in philosophy while you’re here, where you can discuss these issues in a more appropriate forum. But, Kyoshi, you are going to be coming to my chambers on a regular basis if you persist in the type of behavior we saw from you today.”
Kyoshi sighed. “I didn’t even do anything.”
“Public displays of affection are forbidden on this campus. Yet you were caught fondling a first-year student in the library.”
“We were behind a bookcase,” he protested. “That’s not public.”
The Headmaster smiled, finding it interesting that the boy did not try to deny the act. “You do realize, Kyoshi, that sexual congress between two males is frowned on at Valemont?”
“How about three males then,” Kyoshi shot back, with a smile.
The Headmaster returned the smile, lowering his gaze as he considered the appropriate response. “Any type of sexual congress among those of the male sex is discouraged at Valemont. The official position of the Academy is that such relationships impede the educational progress of the students, and complicate life in the residence halls.”
“The official position of the Academy,” Kyoshi whispered. “So, if you don’t mind my asking, what is your position, Headmaster? Do you think a good fuck complicates life?”
The Headmaster struggled to suppress his smile. “My position is not at issue. The reason you have been sent here is that you blatantly disregarded a stated regulation of the Academy. Therefore, you must be disciplined.”
Kyoshi leaned back, smiling. “All right. Now we’re getting to it.”
The Headmaster picked up his crop, tapping it lightly against his hand as he regarded Kyoshi for a moment. “Ten strikes,” he said, finally.
“Fine. Let’s do it.”
“On your feet.”
Kyoshi rose, and the Headmaster did the same.
“Lower your bottoms, and lean over, forearms on the desk.”
“Everything from the waist down.”
“But,” now Kyoshi looked, for the first time, a bit anxious. “Headmaster,” he began.
“Now!” Slamming his crop on the desk with a loud smack, the Headmaster moved around behind him.
Kyoshi hesitated, not sure what to say.
“Did you hear me, Kyoshi? What happened to, ‘let’s get on with it?’ Very well. You’ve just graduated to fifteen strikes.”
Slowly, Kyoshi unzipped his trousers, humiliated that he was now sporting a massive erection. As he lowered his pants, the Headmaster caught sight of him, suddenly understanding the reason behind his reluctance.
He chose to say nothing, puzzling over Kyoshi’s arousal. Had the boy found him sexually exciting? Or did he enjoy being disciplined? Or perhaps…he was merely still aroused from his exploits in the library. Sho stroked the crop between his fingers, fighting his own undeniable attraction to the unruly youth.
With Kyoshi’s bare ass presented to him for discipline, Headmaster Mitsuwa found that he was now painfully aroused as well, though thankfully his robes covered this rather embarrassing development. He typically only made the most troublesome students bend over his desk, usually allowing them to remain upright for discipline. And now he found that, if he were truly honest with himself, he had made Kyoshi bend over so he could get a good look at him from behind.
He cursed himself for his impure thoughts, yet found that his eyes devoured the sight of the youth positioned so vulnerably over his desk, his firm ass inviting further exploration. His heart beat a little faster as he filed away the image for use at a more private moment; in truth, he longed to ravish the unruly Kyoshi, to spread him wide apart and penetrate him, plunging into him deeply, violating him completely.
Having never experienced such desire toward a student before, the Headmaster was rather at a loss when faced with it, especially with the intensity of his thoughts. Forcing himself to put such fantasies out of his mind, he concentrated now on the task before him: disciplining Kyoshi.
“So,” he whispered. “I’ll need to swing pretty hard to get your attention, then? Isn’t that what you said?”
“What were you doing, eavesdropping?” Kyoshi demanded.
“You don’t deny it, then? I see. Then, let’s see if this gets your attention.”
With that, the Headmaster whipped his arm back and let the crop whip fly.
Kyoshi’s eyes widened when the first strike met with his bare flesh, quite surprised with how hard the Headmaster had struck him. He bore the first few strikes quietly, not even uttering a sound. The discipline at least also quelled his arousal; he lost his erection completely by the second strike. Feeling incredibly exposed, bent so shamefully over the desk, Kyoshi now began to doubt his ability to remain silent under the Headmaster’s arm.
Puzzled over Kyoshi’s complete silence, the Headmaster now increased the range of his swing to deliver the maximum impact with each strike.
Strike six seemed to slice into his skin; seven burned beyond bearing. When the eighth strike of the Headmaster’s whip met Kyoshi’s punished flesh, he gasped, his first vocalization since the beginning of his discipline session.
“Ah. Now I’ve finally got your attention, I think?”
Smiling, Mitsuwa made the last six strikes really count; he used all his strength, finally eliciting a few rather tormented, ragged cries from the stubbornly silent youth, who struggled to hold back his tears.
When at last the punishment ceased, Kyoshi continued to stand, bent over the desk and head down, trying to regain his composure. Much to his mortification, he found that despite his just being disciplined, he was once again developing an erection.
The Headmaster stood silently for a moment. “Pull up your trousers,” he said, finally.
Kyoshi did so, wiping a wayward tear from his face. He felt humiliated beyond anything he had ever experienced before. Now the Headmaster was standing next to him, offering him a handkerchief.
“Coming to a new Academy mid-term can be quite an adjustment,” he said, soothingly.
“I don’t need your bloody pity,” Kyoshi shot back, angrily.
The Headmaster studied him for a moment. “I was hardly pitying you. Are you always this cold to everyone, Kyoshi?”
“No. Only people who just whipped my ass raw,” he answered grumpily.
The Headmaster laughed. “Fair enough.”
Kyoshi, once again in control of himself, looked him in the eyes. “I know you saw me.”
The Headmaster swallowed, choosing his words carefully. “You needn’t worry. What happens in these chambers…will stay in these chambers.”
“Oh really?” Suddenly Kyoshi leaned forward, grabbing the Headmaster by the back of his head to kiss him, his tongue exploring him wildly, his hand moving down to press against his robes, discovering there the Headmaster’s own arousal.
Surprised, it took Sho a moment to respond. He pushed Kyoshi away, angrily. “Enough!”
“I knew it!” Kyoshi said triumphantly. “You’re a bloody sadist! All turned on from disciplining me. Will that stay in these chambers? Or are you going to punish me more now?”
“Let me guess. You’re going to have me expelled.”
With a smile, Kyoshi turned and left, closing the door behind him as he irreverently blew the Headmaster a parting kiss.
For a long moment, Sho simply continued to stand, completely overwhelmed with what had just happened. Never in his career had he been physically approached by a student; and for Kyoshi to know that he had been aroused, too, was mortifying.
He returned to his chair, wondering what he should do. If he were to follow strict regulations, he should have the boy expelled for his advances. And yet…Sho found that a part of him wanted Kyoshi to remain at Valemont, almost hoped that he would be disobedient again and sent to his chambers for more discipline. And perhaps even…for something else.
Angry at himself for having such thoughts, he was also annoyed that he was now so aroused some sort of release was required. He had never done so before, but that afternoon Headmaster Mitsuwa pleasured himself in his chambers, his thoughts fixed around these new images now burned into his mind—those dark, furious eyes, that hard, angry mouth, that irresistibly sweet bare ass, clenching under the torment of discipline.
The taste and feel of Kyoshi’s tongue in his mouth now tormented him, inviting tantalizing thoughts of returning that kiss, of exploring him without restraint. He fantasized taking Kyoshi right there, over his desk, and at the same time felt guilty for having such thoughts, groaning both from agony and pleasure as his semen finally spilled down his eager hand.
For a long time afterwards he simply sat at his desk, wondering, and worrying.