Date: Tue, 19 Dec 2006 18:54:29 +0000 (GMT)
From: WILL OBE <will.obe@btinternet.com>
Subject: OBEYING THE SENIORS 3

I'm in Mr Beecham's office. After spanking me hard, fucking me hard and
making me suck his cock clean, he tells me to stand up. He hands me an
envelope.

"I'm sending you on a training course. These are your instructions. Now go
home and I'll see you on your return or possibly even sooner."

The instructions prove to be quite simple. Go to a gay website and follow
the instructions you are given. I find the site with one message that
immediately interests me. It reads - "Young men living in London between
the ages of 20 and 25 interested in returning to schooldays, please make
contact."

My excitement grows after numerous e-mails in which I'm asked several
direct questions.

"Are you gay?" I answer yes. "Are you submissive?" Again I answer yes
because I know I am. "Are you under five feet seven tall and slim? This is
exactly me and at 22 look more 18, so I reply yes. Next question, "Are you
willing to be obedient to orders and take punishment if you are
disobedient?"

This makes me immediately hard and horny. I know above all that this is
what I need. Orders and punishment! The last question is "Do you enjoy
being humiliated in public?" By this time I'm wanking myself like mad
sitting naked in front of my computer as I answer this question in the
affirmative. As I shoot my load, the answer comes back; "You are accepted
subject to obeying further instructions."

The first instruction is for me to e-mail photos showing me naked back and
front. I set up my digital camera, pose and return the pics
immediately. The second instruction is for me to ring my office and explain
that my grandfather has died and I'll need to take several weeks leave. I
don't as Mr Beecham made it clear I must attend this course.

A slight lull in communications and then a message directing me to attend a
men's hairdressers in Charing Cross at 11am the following morning and to
obey and submit to any orders I'm given.

Next day I rush off to the hairdresser's appointment. The premises are in
one of the narrow side streets near Charing Cross Station, which is easy
for me to travel to. The actual address is upstairs above a uni-sex
hairdressing salon. I ring the bell.

"Who is that?" A slightly high pitched male voice.

"Phil," I reply.

"You're expected, push the door and come up."

At the top of the stairs a young guy wearing the sort of white outfit my
dentist wears. He ushers my through a door into a room that could easily be
my dentist's surgery. In the centre of the room a chair rather like my
dentist's and standing beside it a smiling man in his forties wearing a
white tunic similar to his assistant's. I sit down without being told.

"I'm Roland and this is my assistant Clive." I recognise the high pitched
voice as he indicates his assistant.

Clive shampoos my hair and then Roland proceeds to clip my long hair and I
soon realise it's going to be the short back and sides style of my school
boy days. Roland chats endlessly and I'm not really required to join
in. Clive meanwhile removes my shoes and socks. As instructed I sit there
and submit. Roland blow- dries my hair as Clive unfastens my belt, lowers
the zip in my jeans and pulls my jeans down and off. Grinning, he pulls
down my briefs and takes them off. My six-inch cock jumps up fully erect.

Clive lathers my crotch and prick with shaving soap and watches, as I do
very nervously, as Roland shaves off what remains of my pubic hair with a
cut throat razor. He rubs me dry with a towel and then suddenly grips my
ankles and lifts my legs above my head. Clive holds onto my legs as Roland
pulls my ass cheeks apart and inspects my anus. I blush and squirm in
embarrassment.

"As I thought a bottom and rosebud as hairless and innocent as a new born,"
announces Roland.

He leans forward, kisses my hole and then licks it. He straightens up.

"Unfortunately the house rules don't allow me to fuck you Phil."

Roland lowers my legs; Clive takes off my shirt, lifts up my arms and
immediately lathers my armpits with shaving soap. I watch in the mirror as
Roland shaves my armpits completely smooth. With my short haircut and
hairless body I look more like a schoolboy than my 22 years.

"I think that's it Phil dear." Roland hands me a railway ticket. "Your
train leaves platform four at 3pm and your seat is reserved. Have your
lunch in the station, but don't miss the train. Understand?"

"Yes, of course. But to where?"

"You will find out."

Well before 3pm I approach platform four. "Second carriage from the front,"
said the Ticket Collector and clipped my ticket.

I find the second carriage and my reserved seat next to a window. Then
looking at my ticket I find I'm going to Canterbury. A few minutes later
and a handsome young guy about my own age with red hair and freckled cheeks
and short back and sides haircut comes and sits opposite me. Then a cute
young black guy comes and sits next to him. Then a startlingly handsome
Asian guy comes to sit next to me. Like most English people we don't engage
in conversation, but simply sit there. I assume they must have all answered
the same web site notice and have all been to Roland and Clive's for
haircuts. It also means, like me that they are devoid of pubic hair. I look
at them more closely. All slight in build and easily mistaken for senior
schoolboys. My cock is erect. The ginger haired guy in front of me with a
fresh complexion looks the youngest I decide. In his dark suit he might be
an office boy going home after work. The other two, both very handsome,
wear more casual clothes like myself. Perhaps because of the time of day
there are no other passengers in the carriage.

At last the train moves and rumbles over the century old iron bridge over
the Thames. At that moment a wonderfully butch looking, tall, handsome,
smiling man wearing a grey suit with a red tie arrives at our side and asks
if he might check our first names. He looks to be in his thirties.

"Phil", I said.

"Campbell," the ginger haired guy said with a Scots accent.

"Raja," the Asian guy next to me answers with a slight Indian accent.

"Nick," said the black guy diagonally across from me. A London accent.

"That's very good boys," said the older man. "Now please behave yourselves
and don't talk to each other. Otherwise I might have to spank you. I'm
Paul, your house master."

He moves off to sit a few seats in front. We all exchange glances and start
whispering to each other. Paul obviously hears us. He immediately stands
up, steps towards our seats and glares down at us.

"What did I say about not speaking? I think an example needs to be made of
one of you. "You boy," pointing at Campbell, "come out here.

Blushing bright red, Campbell steps out into the gangway.

"Drop your trousers boy."

Campbell doing as he's told, drops his suit pants to reveal white
underpants.

"And your pants boy. And hold up your shirt and jacket."

His face red, Campbell obeys the orders and we can all see his shaved
crotch and erect penis.

"Turn so your friends can see your bottom and bend over boy."

Paul takes a short leather tawse from his pocket and lays it over
Campbell's back while he smoothes his hands over the smooth creamy bare
skin of the boy's bottom. He picks up the tawse with one hand and holds the
boy's hands firmly on Campbell's back. Our housemaster raises the tawse and
give's Campbell six quick hard thwacks with the tawse. Campbell yelps and
whimpers with each stroke. Paul releases his victim's hands and Campbell
instinctively straightens up and rubs his flaming backside.

"Did I give you permissions to stand up boy? Bend over immediately and pull
your cheeks apart so we can all see your fuckhole."

Reluctantly, Campbell obeys and we all see his pink little hole. I know
that from experience this is the most humiliating thing to do in front of
strangers.

"Get dressed and sit down boy."

At Canterbury Paul ushers us off the train and leads us to a mini-bus in
the car park. A good looking body-builder type driver stands at the side
door and feels each of us up as we board the bus.

"I'm Bill, but you'll call me sir," he says to each of us in turn.

Paul sits up front with Bill. We remain quiet as the bus speeds through the
Kent countryside passing orchards and fields of hops hanging from their
high supporting poles and wires. The bus slows and turns through an open
gateway into a long drive leading to what looks like a red brick mansion
some distance away. As we draw nearer we can see it's surrounded by
extensive green lawns and flowerbeds. The bus stops at the front entrance
and Bill opens the door of the bus.

"Come on, get yourselves inside at the double," he yells.

We run into the house and find ourselves in an oak-panelled hallway with a
central staircase leading to the upper floors.

Immediately Bill shouts "upstairs and follow Master Paul. He sounds more
and more like an army sergeant. Paul is standing at the top of the
staircase and directs us to a large room with four beds, four small
cupboards and four chairs. On each chair is a pile of clothing. At the far
end of the room is an open communal shower area and to one side two toilet
pans without seats.

"Strip naked for inspection. Come on. All of you."

I remember the instruction to obey orders from my computer and strip off my
clothes. As do my three colleagues.

"Feet apart, hands to your sides," orders Paul.

My prick is at attention as are the cocks of the other three. Paul pushes
back my foreskin and wipes a finger around the underside of the knob. I
know it's clean. He places the same finger against my lips and presses it
into my mouth.

"Suck it boy."

I do so.

"Bend over and pull your cheeks apart."

Using the same finger he rubs my rosebud and pushes his finger up my hole,
wiggles it about as I whimper, takes it out, smells it and reaches around
to press it against my lips. Without being told I suck it.

"Stand up boy."

He moves on to Nick, then Campbell and lastly Raja. The same sort of
inspection process.

"You've been cut Raja. The headmaster will like that. Now find the cupboard
with your name on it, hang up your clothes and then put on the clothes you
see on the chair at the side of your bed. And be quick about or I'll take
me belt to your bottoms."

I find the cupboard with my name, hang up my clothes and start putting on
the clothes on my chair. First a pair of tight blue cotton shorts. So short
they reach only half way down my thighs. No belt or underpants. Then a
short white shirt that only just tucks into the pants. After this a red and
blue striped tie. Socks which come up to my knees and black shoes. Every
item my size except for the shorts which are at least one size too small so
that my prick and balls are on show as well as my buns. Last of all a
segmented red and blue schoolboy's cap. Paul watches us closely. Paul uses
a hand to feel my stiff prick through the thin cotton of my shorts before
doing the same to the other three.

"Good. I think it's time for you to see the headmaster. Go on, run down
stairs and obey Master Bill's instructions."

If you enjoyed reading this chapter, please let me know
will.obe@btinternet.com