Compulsive Behaviour Must Be Dealt With!

Part 1

by Jummbuck

 

"Enter."

Miss McIntyre opened the heavy, wooden door and waved me forward with her other hand. I stepped into the room and stopped a few steps in, hesitating whereupon Miss McIntyre placed her hand firmly in the small of my back and propelled me sharply forward towards the painted yellow line. The line was placed exactly four feet from the front of the large wooden desk. Behind the desk sat our illustrious Headmistress. 

I stopped abruptly on the back edge of the line and stood to attention with my legs glued together, arms flat down my sides, shoulders back, head up and eyes lowered to the floor.  Miss McIntyre took up position at my side, her hand still resting on me. 

Headmistress didn't look up immediately - she was preoccupied with writing some notes.  After a minute or so she put down her pen, removed her glasses and closed the folder containing her notes.  

"I've made certain adjustments to Davis' training routine.  Please ensure they are implemented from tonight," she announced in a clipped voice, finally looking up as she handed the folder to Miss McIntyre.

"Yes Headmistress, of course", replied Miss McIntyre taking the folder.

"That will be all Miss McIntyre. Could you instruct Nurse Swan to come to the Training Room at..." she paused, glancing down at her watch, "say, 2pm? With the appropriate items, of course."

"Yes Headmistress."  said Miss McIntyre before she turned and walked from the room. Headmistress now turned her attention to me.    

"Miss McIntyre has informed me that you've been at it again, young man", said Headmistress. 

My throat was dry and I swallowed nervously before quietly replying.  "Yes Headmistress, I'm...ah...I'm sorry...I..."

"Be quiet boy, I'm not interested in excuses or falsities. The only thing you're sorry about is being caught  at it once more!" she said, emphasizing the last words.

I watched her fearfully as she slowly pushed back her chair, stood up, and billowed out her flattened dark gown. She walked around the desk in a measured pace and stopped in front of me. Her tone and manner always filled me with dread, no matter what the context. She was so certain and direct, never brooking debate or discussion, especially from those in her charge. This time I certainly knew what this 'context' meant - Headmistress detested this type of behaviour. My body started trembling involuntarily.   

"You've now been here three times in six months for the same pathetic behaviour. Put simply, you are nothing but a weak-minded young man, governed solely by selfish, obsessive, release," decreed Headmistress in a carefully modulated voice.  "That obsession pollutes your body and your mind over and over again. She hesitated, allowing her words and tone to burrow deep into my thoughts.
"You were given the chance to reform but incredibly you chose to ignore the opportunity and indulge yourself once more," she went on. "This time though, you are to be subjected to the full punishment for a third offense, followed by an intense and thorough training program!"   My shaking grew worse. 

"Tell me, do you think it's healthy to indulge yourself like this?" Her question carried a hint of sarcasm. 

"No Headmistress!" I blurted. 

"Then why have you continued to keep doing it?" she enquired patiently.  

I blushed as I spluttered my pathetic excuse, "I'm weak, Headmistress."  

She clasped her hands in front of her gown.  "And I'm here to ensure that your puerile, weak-mindedness never, ever, emerges at this school again."  

My shoulders slumped, my arms sagged, and my head dropped in shame. I knew full well what this last statement meant. 

"Stand up straight when I'm talking to you!"

Instantly I pulled myself up straight but my gaze remained lowered. My eyes now absorbed the sight of her long fingers and red manicured nails, the pale, smooth skin of her hands and the vivid contrast between the sleeves of her red satin blouse and the sheen of her gown. I was mesmerized.   

She moved in closer until her face was now barely a foot away from mine, her closeness bathing me in the soft, feminine scent of her perfume.  "This may be the third time you've been caught disposing of your filth...but I suspect you've done it many, many other times. Correct?"

I blushed embarrassingly again; I wanted desperately to get away but felt bolted to the spot, overwhelmed by her air and manner.  I nodded my head slowly, my overbearing shame washing away any words.      

"You're a disgusting, compulsive little boy. Well, you are about to learn some lessons designed specifically to deal with these compulsions of yours."

"You've been at this institution less than one year. In one sense, that's unfortunate. If you had been here last year, or the year before that, you would have been able to observe in graphic detail what happens to my charges when they choose to ignore rules regarding compulsive self-abuse. Perhaps then, you would have reflected heavily on what the consequences would be if you indulged in such filthy practices. Well, never mind."    She moved behind me. Now I was really trembling and I felt involuntary shivers race up my spine at the mere sound of her voice.

"Of course in another sense it's fortunate you haven't been here that long. Because now the other pupils of this school will have the opportunity to closely observe what happens to self-abusers. It's particularly fortunate for the two boys on their last warning - they may learn to modify their own behaviour in time to avoid a third visit here...and of course, the consequences. Of course you're now blessed with the good fortune of being immersed in a structure aimed at avoiding the pitfalls of weak-mindedness and temptation."                 

"Follow me," she ordered, walking back past the desk towards a doorway off to one side.  I followed, unease haunting me. From behind, I nervously soaked in her presence.  The sure, confident stride, her height and bearing, the auburn hair swept back and kept in place with scarlet combs, her perfectly presented and coordinated outfit - the academic gown, a red satin blouse complete with high collar and tie, pleated dark skirt, black stockings and heeled, highly polished, black shoes; all added to her intimidating certainty.    She opened the door and stood watching me as I passed her.  The sight I'd already come to dread from previous visits emerged; and the odd mix of aromas of the room - aniseed, lavender, musk and leather - rose to meet me.  Without thinking I pulled up.  "Over to the second line boy,"  she ordered menacingly. Her tone changed markedly once she opened that door.                                                    

The room was large and windowless with a highly polished wooden floor on which were painted a curious assortment of yellow and red lines  Obediently I headed toward the second line.

Once in position I looked around furtively not daring to move my head too much. From where I stood I  could see three single-seat school desks arranged one behind the other. In front of them stood a 12-inch high wooden platform below a large blackboard. Above the blackboard the school crest was displayed prominently; it's motto: Through Discipline, Insight and Understanding. 

On the adjacent wall, at right angles to the blackboard, was a retractable map of the world with the British Empire highlighted boldly in red. Affixed to the wall to the left of the platform was a mirror 8 feet high and wide.  

There was a second door, next to which stood a tall bookcase and a fully laden clothes rack There was a curious assortment of furniture placed around the room but what caught my eye now was a wooden jumping horse which Headmistress referred to as the 'Rocking Horse'.

The centre-piece of the back wall was an array of 'implements', as Headmistress liked to collectively refer to them.  Hanging down from wooden beams were canes of various lengths, floggers of various materials, paddles, straps, crops, tawses, birches, slippers, feather dusters, hairbrushes and brush combs, and two old fashioned carpet beaters. There was a small table, on top of which were various dried plant specimens and jars containing an assortment of burrs, seedpods, seeds and small pieces of plant material. Two of the small jars had roughened pebbles and gravel in them.

In one corner of the room was a deep wash-trough alongside a small sink and kitchen bench. Above it, two steel and chrome electric barber's clippers hung down; two smaller clippers were mounted into battery chargers on the wall.  A folded metal table leaned against the wall between the table and the doorway, the same doorway the two of them had just come through.   

Headmistress closed and locked the door behind her, removed the key and placed it in her gown pocket as she  made her way across the room. I was in front of the mirror, watching her reflection in despair as she removed a thick, dark leather strap - her 'Trusty Old Two Footer', as she liked to call it, from the opposite wall.   

With strap in hand, she walked slowly backwards and forwards in front of me, her face turned to mine. 

"You have now forfeited absolutely all privileges for the next six months." She paused slightly before continuing.

"Firstly, you must be punished for your actions. You will then undergo an intensive and rigorous disciplinary training regime, one that completely immerses you in proper behaviour patterns. This training regime also serves a dual purpose: you are to view it as penitence. She stopped and took up position in front of me, the strap by her right side.  I couldn't help but notice her thumb slowly kneading one edge.  "At the end of three months, your case will be thoroughly reviewed. If you have displayed the correct outlook, certain modifications to your training regime will commence. If not, then the training will be intensified. At six months your case will be fully accessed again. If you have shown contrition and a genuine desire to be a better boy, then your training regime will conclude.Should you ever re-offend you will then be subjected to a 12 month long program, one far more intense than this one. Is that clear?"

"Yes Headmistress," I responded swiftly, almost shouting out of fear.       

"I phoned your mother as soon as I was informed of your outrageous behaviour. Don't expect any relief on that front- she is as disgusted by your compulsive carry-on as I am...and, I might add, as are all the staff. Your mother has agreed in full to your punishments and training regime, as she has to keeping you here during all school breaks over the next six months. I did let her know that we are more than happy to provide her with some guidance on how to oversee any home stay should she choose to have you return there during breaks." 

Headmistress turned her head and looked over at a black and white photo on the wall behind the desks.  "Your mother and I go back a long way. Do keep in mind we were chums throughout our school days. She sent you here for a very simple reason, and that was to instill some firm discipline into you. And that is what we are about to do. But first your punishments."                

"The hand that you abuse yourself with...out in front!"

I did as I was told and without hesitation, she brought the strap down firmly across my palm. It felt like a lightening bolt had exploded right through me and I stifled a yelp. My hand shook and sagged.  

"Get that abusive hand up and hold it straight!"

Automatically I brought it up and down came a second and a third blow. My hand felt like it was dissolving but I dared not drop it and I dared not cry out.

A fourth, a fifth and then a sixth blow, the last across the fingers. Now they felt like they were on fire.

"The other hand. In case that one gets any silly ideas." 

Within a minute, my left hand felt as torched as the right. My eyes filled with tears and my body gave an involuntary shake.  "Pants down. Underpants too." 

She walked back to the wall, hung the strap up and selected a small leather flogger and another, this one made of thin rope with tiny knots threaded through it. She picked up a pair of latex gloves from the long table.

She stood behind me and through the reflection in the mirror, our eyes met for the first time today.

"Please Headmistress, I'm really, really sorry, please, I..."

"I don't remember giving you permission to speak. You're in enough trouble as it is. I suggest you button your mouth this instant. Or else!"

I winced at her words and lowered my eyes, as much in shame as from fear. 

"Eyes!"

I lifted my eyes to meet hers, now unable to avoid taking in her intimidating height, perfect features and presentation; the subtle makeup and red lipstick, the smooth pale complexion, her dark blue, rounded eyes and strong nose, the clustered gold earrings and the length of her neck, accentuated by the high collar of the blouse.  I felt like melting away and desperately wanted to avoid her intense gaze...  "The rule states, and I quote, "When undergoing punishment or training, the offender must avert his eyes at all times from the gaze of the Lady, or Ladies, administering the punishment or training." she articulated.  "The only exception to this rule is...???," she stopped, cocking her head to match the rise of her tone. 

Her condemning question hung in the air...

I took a deep breath and then quoted the rule very slowly, hoping desperately that I got every word out correctly. "The only exception to this rule is when the offender finds himself in front of a mirror, at which point he is not permitted to avert his eyes from the gaze of the Lady, or Ladies, administering the punishment or training."

"Very good. Then why did you avert your eyes?"

"I...," I hesitated, before answering, "It happened without thinking, Headmistress."

"Which sounds all to familiar, young man. Another dose of the strap across your hands should help you to remember that rule next time." With that she turned around, put the gloves and floggers aside and retrieved the leather strap. 

"Both hands out in front together."  I obeyed her straightaway.  "Don't cup your hands! I want them laid out flat, side by side." 

Another minute, another six strokes.  I bit my trembling, bottom lip and felt the damp warmth of a tear roll down each cheek.

"Stop that snivelling boy or I'll give you something to snivel about!. Legs apart! Lift your jumper and shirt-tail up. Right up, above the stomach!" 

She now had on the latex gloves and with one hand, grabbed the head of my penis and stretched it out in front as far as it would go.  "Orifices expelling filth need to be punished." With that she started applying short steady strokes of the thin rope flogger to the shaft.  I let out a cry and wiggled about but her "Stop fidgeting or else!" pulled me up immediately.  The sleeve of her gown kept brushing against my belly, its lightness contrasting dramatically with what was happening below it. Innumerable blows followed before she lifted my penis up and back, tucked her body into mine and commenced flogging the underside.   

She stopped after a few minutes then changed floggers, lifted the shaft upwards again, lowered her stance, yanked at my testicles to pull them lower then began flogging them.  "Receptacles of filth need to be punished."  The pain was enormous and I desperately wanted to plead with her to stop but knew I couldn't - shouldn't say anything. Despite the pain I noticed, somewhat distractingly, how her luxurious hair and the collar of her blouse looked somehow perfect...

After what seemed an eternity she stopped the flogging, but only long enough to pinch the base of the sac, lift it outwards and then resume the flogging.  

"That should help set things down there on the right course". She stood up and looked directly at me.  By now I was sobbing but automatically lowered my gaze. I didn't know whether to stop holding up my clothes or drop them back down. 

"Very good. Your filthy objects are now a suitable shade of red. And why?"

Despite the pain and the tears I responded automatically. "Because they are outlets and receptacles of filth, Headmistress." 

"That's right. And what happens when boys give rein to such filth?"

"They need to be punished, Headmistress."

"They need to be reminded of how damaging such ill-disciplined displays are. To themselves, but most importantly, to all women."

"Yes Headmistress." 

"There is of course one more filthy element that needs to be thoroughly marked in red."

With that she walked over to the long table, pulled out a draw and removed a small glass container from it. She unscrewed the lid, scooped out a dollop of cream from the contents with her middle and index fingers then walked back to where I stood, lifted my testicles away and with her other hand, smeared the cream all over my scrotum. Within seconds I felt like flames were burning my skin. I gulped as she said, "Count your good blessings I've run out of the extra strong Tiger Balm."  

There was a soft knock on the door on the far wall. Headmistress raised her glance to look at the clock on the wall: It was 2 o'clock, on the dot. 

"That will be Nurse. Good."  She finished applying the cream, removed the gloves and disposed of them near the sink.

Please make this stop, please! I screamed to myself.     

She walked over and unlocked and opened the door. 

"Good afternoon, Headmistress", said Nurse curtly as she entered the room. "I hope you're message is finally getting through to the boy." She was clutching shoes and some folded garments in her hands.

"Good afternoon Nurse Swan, I certainly hope so, I certainly hope so. But you and I both know from experience, some boys need thorough immersion in extended training regimes before they learn their lessons properly." 

"Indeed we do, Headmistress, indeed we do."  Nurse Swan placed the items she was carrying on top of the chest of draws next to the clothes rack. "Everything you require, Headmistress. I made sure to check his sizes."

"Thank you Nurse. And how are you today?"

"I'm very well, Headmistress, very well. I did have some issues with that Davis boy this morning but apparently it's all sorted now."

"Yes, he's certainly a problem. I've made the necessary modifications to his training program, commencing immediately.I'm certain a week of nightly nettling in full restraint will have the desired effect."

"A very sensible move, Headmistress, very sensible."

I was still standing with my pants around my ankles and the jumper and shirt in my hands, my scrotum searingly painful. Nurse Swan now took up position behind me, opposite Headmistress. I took in her bearing and appearance with trepidation, for, like Headmistress, she was an intimidating presence, renowned for her strict application of rules and punishments. She was a few years older than Headmistress, but shorter and a bit plump. In contrast she wore her dark hair in a blunt, pageboy bob. She had on her usual outfit consisting of knee length thin-stripped, sky blue and white uniform, an open, navy blue cardigan, navy hose, and flat, plain dark shoes.

"Nurse Swan, in your experience, is disgusting, compulsive behaviour by charges at this institution curable?"

Nurse Swan smiled broadly. "In most cases, Headmistress. Results are particularly good when such weak-willed creatures are immersed in a regime that revokes privileges, entails lots of repetitive tasks, dresses them in outfits that reminds them of their failings and involves an assortment of extended humiliations." 

Headmistress smiled in response.  "Yes, my thoughts exactly, Nurse Swan. But first things first, of course. We still have a punishment to complete."  Headmistress walked across to the wall and selected a 12 inch long narrow wooden paddle with a strip of raised rubber running down its length before returning to take up position to my left.
"Bend over!"  Straightaway she commenced firmly paddling the back of my left thigh. After 12 strokes she moved across to the right and did the same to my once pristine thigh. 

"There, we are getting much closer to commencing your reform program now. Nurse Swan, would you like to assist in reforming this young man today?"

"Why certainly, Headmistress!"

"Very good then." 

With that Headmistress went and picked up a short, narrow wooden stool and placed it on the yellow line in front of me.  "Kneel."  Still holding my jumper and shirt I did as I was told. Headmistress went over towards the kitchen area and brought back a safety pin and a large stainless steel bowl.  "Hold this...and bring it up to your chest."  I dropped the jumper and shirt and took hold of the bowl. She moved behind me and lifted the back hem of my shirt and jumper and pinned them in place several inches higher.

"Head down over the bowl. Don't lean your body forward...I said head down!"

I heard her steady footsteps make their way back to the long table. Without the mirror I couldn't see what was happening behind me but whatever it was I felt very vulnerable and I was very fearful of what was to follow. I didn't have long before I found out. She was now standing in front of me. In her hands was one of the electric barber's clippers and I could see she had placed a small guard over the blade teeth.   "I think a Number Two to start matters off." She walked over and handed them to Nurse Swan. I"'ll take up other duties," she said to her, faintly smiling. 

"Very glad to assist in anyway I can, Headmistress," Nurse Swan responded, returning her smile. 

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nurse Swan crouch down and plug something into the wall socket. When she'd done so she walked over to stand on my left. I could hear Headmistress walking slowly back and forth in front of the back wall before stopping to remove something. I could hear her footsteps making their way back towards me but  when I heard the whoosh-whoosh-whoosh of a cane being loosened up behind me, my heart started racing furiously.

"What are you, boy?"

"Weak and pathetic, Headmistress."

  "That's right."  Using her backhand, she brought the cane down across my exposed behind.   

"Nurse Swan, please."

"Certainly, Headmistress."

With that, an intense electric whirr came to life just above my ears. Her left hand took a firm grip over my crown, preventing any movement whatsoever. The moment the blade touched the  nape of my neck goose-bumps erupted across my head and upper body.

Oh God no! I yelled to myself as the clippers did a sweep over my head..  "What are you boy?"

"Weak and pathetic, Headmistress."

"That's right."  WHOOSH! The cane came down again. Again I stifled a yelp.

The clippers did a second run over my head. Again Headmistress asked the question, and again I answered.  Another stroke, and then another run of the clippers. I gazed down miserably at the bowl, watching it fill with the remnants of my regulation short back and sides haircut. After several more runs across my head, each one followed by a heavy stroke of the cane, the whirring clippers were turned off.  "I think we can do without the guard now, Headmistress." 

"Very well Nurse Swan."

Headmistress took the bowl from my hands.  "Young man, I happen to be a passionate lover and observer of nature, you know. It pleases me a great deal to know that your hair will be placed outside where it can be of use to birds as nesting material once the spring thaw comes." With that she went and emptied the hair into a paper bag then returned the bowl to my hands. She moved behind me and took up position on the opposite side, saying, "Do you desire to be a good boy from this moment on?"  

"Yes Headmistress."

She waited a few seconds then delivered three sharp strokes of the cane to my bottom.  "I don't want a bland answer like that!"

"I desire to be a good boy from this moment on, Headmistress," I blurted out through tears.

"That's better." The cane came down upon my buttocks again with a furious weight. The clippers came to life again and touched my nape; and once more the goose-bumps swept over me.
"Better not move your head young man, unguarded clippers can do a lot of damage," said Nurse Swan moving the blade forward slowly over my scalp. 

"Do you desire to be a good boy from this moment on?"

My words were now bathed in tears and I uttered dejectedly, "I desire to be a good boy from this moment on, Headmistress." 

"Very good."

The cane cut heavily across my bottom. After five minutes the clippers died. Brushing the clipped remnants of my hair into the bowl, Nurse Swan said with a grin, "Another run will make it very smooth, Headmistress."  

"If that's what you think. I'll prepare the next stage then."  She returned the cane and made her way over towards the long table. Nurse Swan simply lifted my chin up and commenced another series of slow steady runs over my scalp, working her way back from the front. My teary eyes were shut tight, trying to avoid getting any more remnants of my hair into them.  

Headmistress pulled out one of the folded tables, picked up a small container from the long table, walked over to the kitchen area, placed it in a small bowl and filled the bowl from the boiling urn. She filled another small bowl from the urn then carried both bowls over to the long table. She now sorted out several cloth strips and other items and placed them next to the bowls.      

At last the clippers stopped. Nurse Swan stepped in closer and firmly pushed my head down, burying it in the front folds of her uniform. Its strong aromas and proximity caused me to pull back but she jerked my head in tighter.  "Don't jump around!" she barked. "Lengthen that neck and make it as taut as it'll go."  I did so, finding my face muffled deeper into the folds of her dress. She started running the clippers again; they now ran up and down, up and down my nape, over and over again. When at last she turned the clippers off again, I instantly felt an intense rawness across my neck.  "Much better!" said Nurse Swan. Headmistress came over to inspect her handiwork.   "Nurse Swan, I'd like to take this opportunity to write up the boy's training notes. Would you be kind enough to take over this stage?"  

"Of course, Headmistress," another grin breaking out on Nurse Swan's face. 

I hadn't been told to move so I dared not lift my head up. I had a strong enough picture in my mind of what would confront me in the mirror; that alone was reason enough for keeping my head down.

"Hand me the bowl and stand up straight." said Headmistress behind me. 

I got gingerly to my feet, stood to attention and raised my head slowly, momentarily closing my eyes at the sight of my shaved head. 

"Not such a pretty sight now is it young man?"

"No Headmistress." Her eyes bore into me for what seemed an eternity. I desperately wanted to look away from her gaze...and from my own reflection. Headmistress kept her gaze on me and said, "Nurse Swan, would you please join me over at the table?"

I watched her place the bowl full of my clipped hair on the table. I felt bereft and somehow emasculated. 

"I'll leave you to determine how to do the removal.  I do think it best to leave the reddened areas around his member for a few days, no doubt they're very inflamed as it is."  Nurse Swan looked a little crestfallen by this remark but accepted what Headmistress had to say.  "I'll make sure everything is as smooth as a baby's behind, Headmistress - barring the reddened areas of course."  

"Very well then."  Headmistress ordered me to come over to the table.  "And let's have you fully undressed."      

Go to part 2

Back to Literature      

If you enjoyed this story you can find more wonderful tales of corporal punishment just like this in My Literary Members Club.
Details of membership can be found here

Copyright Silverbirch Productions 2010

No part of 'Compulsive Behaviour Must Be Dealt With' be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise

without prior written consent from Silverbirch Productions