The Ingram-Lewis Chronicles Pt. 05

Mr. Godber uttered a few platitudinous remarks and then said: "Pennington, will you kindly step out of your trousers and underpants and mount the horse to take your punishment. Ingram-Lewis; perhaps you would be good enough to fix the straps."

Pennington said: "Straps will not be necessary sir. I do not need to be held down; I will take my punishment like the gentleman that I am." He emphasised the "I am", at the end of the sentence and looked pointedly directly at Turnbull.

Patrick was relieved that his friend would be punished first; he selected one of the two shorter birches, shook off the water and handed it to Mr. Godber who looked at the implement for a few seconds and then handed it back to Patrick saying: "Ingram-Lewis, if you would be kind enough to take over the rest of the proceedings; I do not feel I have the strength to administer the necessary strokes myself. Mr. Whitelaw, if you would kindly call the strokes as Ingram- Lewis applies them. There will be twelve in all."

And so, Patrick laid on stroke after biting stroke with the horribly painful maple birch. His friend's naked flesh very quickly started to colour up and by the time he was finished, Pennington was clearly in agony. But he remained perfectly still and totally stoic throughout the entire process, maintaining that stiff upper lip so beloved of the ruling classes at the turn of the century; he never let out a sound; the word "emotion" was not part of his vocabulary. As he had said, he took his punishment like a gentleman. Patrick took care not to descend too low on his friend's buttocks to avoid beating that very sensitive area where the buttocks join the legs: the classic "sit spot" as it is called. He made a mental note that when it came to Turnbull there would be no such clemency. Finally it was all over and Pennington replaced his clothing without a word.

"Turnbull: if you please; bare your buttocks and mount the horse. I presume you will emulate your partner and that you will not need restraining." Said Mr. Godber.

As Turnbull said nothing, Patrick selected the longer birch which no one had noticed and set about giving Turnbull's arse the hiding of a lifetime. Turnbull let out howls of pain from the third stroke onwards and by the time it was all over, was weeping profusely. Only Patrick realised that he had succeeded in giving Turnbull a worse (better?) hiding than he had to Pennington. Had he been fair? Possibly not; but Patrick felt, that in a small way, justice had been done. Had he enjoyed wielding the birch? On this occasion no. The fact that he had had to thrash his friend had quite ruined what would otherwise have been a splendid opportunity to give Turnbull's arse another thorough beating.

When it was all over, Mr. Godber made a few remarks, recommending the two young men to adhere to the straight and narrow path dictated by the school rules or risk another visit to the punishment room. They all left and went their separate ways. A little later in the evening, Patrick sought out Roderick and took him to his study. There, behind a locked door, he applied some antiseptic ointment to his friend's burning buttocks and then the two of them retired naked to Patrick's bedroom and spent a pleasant hour fucking each other. "Patrick," said Roderick, "You really are a great guy. There are no hard feelings at all and it's amazing what a good fuck can do for you, even though my arse is bloody sore. I already feel a lot better; and with at he left and went to his bed. The awful Turnbull affair seemed finished. But was it? Well as we shall shortly see, it was not."

CHAPTER 14

About a week after the birching of Turnbull and Pennington, Patrick received a visit after supper from Jeremy Redmond-Kennedy, a member of the upper sixth and, like Patrick, in his final year at Rigby. The Redmond-Kennedys were a wealthy Anglo-Irish family who had sent their sons to Rigby for the past three generations and Jeremy was a very well built young man: a stalwart of the school rugby team and with a reputation of being one of the leading studs of his year. He was, all in all, a very attractive and virile looking young man, who could pull members of either sex with incredible ease.

"Ingram-Lewis, could I have a private word with you about a somewhat delicate affair which I myself and other members of the upper sixth for whom I am acting as spokesman, would prefer to remain confidential. In fact, Ingram-Lewis the whole matter is really so delicate that I hardly know where to begin. So may I take it that everything I tell you will go no further than this room?"

Patrick was obviously immediately intrigued by this opening and said: 'Redmond-Kennedy, shall we say that this meeting is not taking place? So, what is it that you do not wish to say to me, which I shall, of course, not hear?'

Redmond-Kennedy laughed and said: "Ingram-Lewis, you have an interesting way of putting it; so I will now not tell you what you are not about to hear. You are possibly aware that one of our classmates, Turnbull, is an utter pain in the arse. To put it mildly, Turnbull is an oaf and a bully. Moreover, he has a foul mouth and treats all of us with unconcealed contempt. But, you may not be aware, that Turnbull feels he can simply bugger anyone any time he chooses. In fact, it is not only that he feels he can do as he wishes, but he goes ahead and does it. He simply hits on a guy anywhere and anytime it pleases him and fucks his arse. Now Ingram-Lewis, we all know the school rules about sex and we all know, you included, that they are broken on an almost daily basis by the older boys who simply have to release their sexual tensions. So we all accept that there is a lot of sexual activity which takes place and, quite frankly, most of us, me included, enjoy it; but frankly we have all had a belly, not to mention an arse, full of Turnbull."

"The thing which has brought it all to a head is what he did to Pennington. You must know that he and Pennington were hauled before the Headmaster. The upshot was that Godber gave both of them a birching. Now any of us caught in a similar situation and and given a birching would have taken it as retribution for what we had done, which we all know is against the rules. But Pennington got thrashed by Godber for something he did not actually do; he was the innocent party. Turnbull jumped him in the shower and had just started to bugger him when Mr. Whitelaw came upon them and that was that. So you see, Ingram-Lewis, Pennington was a totally innocent party; but he go this arse birched nonetheless."

Patrick said: "Just so you have the facts straight, Redmond-Kennedy, it was I and not Godber who finally wielded the bloody birch on both their arses; Godber did not feel physically up to it, or so he said, and asked me to take over; so I had no option but to thrash the pair of them. And I had also learned about the circumstances of how it all came about; but Pennington had not wished to split on Turnbull in spite of everything and took the punishment, which was horrific. By the way, the latest incarnation of the birch, made of fine maple twigs, an invention of Mr. Patterson, the gardener, is devilish painful; you should take care to avoid it like the plague. Anyway, do go on not explaining things to me; it's all not very interesting."

Redmond-Kennedy continued: "Well, Pennington knows nothing at all about this, but a number of us have decided that it is time Turnbull met his Waterloo so we have decided that we would take some action and give him a dose of what does to others; it's by way of avenging what he did to Pennington. So what we have in mind is to jump Turnbull, blindfold him, strap him down naked somewhere, give his arse a really good dose of the bath brush and then fuck him really hard. You know, Ingram-Lewis, we all suspect that Turnbull, in spite of his own aggressive sexual activity, is still an anal virgin himself; he buggers others left, right and centre, but as far as we know, no one has ever had access to his hole. So we thought that it was high time he entered the real world of give and take and this is going to be very much a take occasion for him."

"So, the reason I have been delegated not to tell you all this is to find out if the punishment room is, by any chance ever left unlocked as we want to strap Turnbull onto the Rigby Horse for his initiation into the real world of sex life at Rigby."

Patrick said:"Let me get this straight; you are proposing to thrash Turnbull and then fuck his arse, But who is going to do that?"

"Oh, let me make things quite clear. Those of us who are involved in this business have drawn lots and six of us are going to fuck Turnbull sequentially, as we want him to know what it feels like to have another guy's cock stuffed up his own hole without any invitation, which is exactly what he does to others. So we thought that we would each give him a dozen or so hard thrusts to to teach the guy a lesson; he really does deserve it you know."

Patrick was impressed by the idea, which would truly knock Turnbull off his high horse, but of course, as Head Boy, basically with the task of enforcing the school rules , of which the present project was in flagrant disregard, he could not express his approbation of what, as he put it, he had not heard. "When is this unlikely event scheduled not to take place?" he asked. "It may well be that I forget to lock the punishment room on some occasions."

"Well, Ingram-Lewis we had thought that this Sunday night sometime after ten might not be a good time for such an unlikely event not to take place."

So there is was; in an idiotic conversation full of nonsensical double negatives; Turnbull would receive his just deserts late on Sunday night, in the punishment room when no one would be around to disturb the proceedings. Patrick ended the meeting by saying: "Well, Redmond-Kennedy, I am delighted that we have not had this little chat and that I am totally uninformed as to the creative and imaginative thoughts of certain boys from the upper sixth. Shall we leave matters there?"

Redmond-Kennedy smiled as he rose to leave: "I thought that it was as well that you should not be apprised about an implausible event which will not take place late this Sunday evening. This non-discussion has set my mind at rest as to the utter ignorance and non- interference of any authority in this non-event." And with that, the two young men shook each other by the hand; laughed and parted company.

When Redmond-Kennedy had gone, Patrick , the Head Boy in loco domini, thought the unthinkable: "What a brilliant idea to take that oafish lout, Turnbull down a peg; I wouldn't mind being there myself; in fact, being completely honest with myself, I would really enjoy shafting him myself; he truly deserves all that is coming to him." But he knew that as Head Boy, the idea was unthinkable and attempted to banish it from his mind.

Sunday evening came and at about 10:30, driven by extreme curiosity, which he could not resist, Patrick very quietly went and stationed himself outside the door of the punishment room. As he listened he heard the unmistakable crack of the back of the bath brush against naked flesh: Turnbull's naked arse no doubt. This was accompanied by loud protestation and howls of pain from the recipient. Evidently the punishment had only just started for Patrick counted no less than ten more strokes of the brush as they landed on Turnbull's backside, and as time progressed the howls of protest became ever louder and more stringent. But Turnbull's voice was the only one to be heard as his tormentors worked in complete and utter silence. After a short pause during which nothing at all was heard, Turnbull suddenly let out an oath: "What the fuck do you guys think that you are doing?" Clearly the first of six rock-hard cocks had just been thrust up his arse.

Patrick stood silently outside the room listening as the punishment continued. He found himself getting harder and harder just listening to what was happening to Turnbull until finally, unable to stand the tension and longer, he flung caution to the wind, opened the door and entered the room to see an amazing sight of homoerotic justice in progress. Turnbull, blindfolded and totally naked had been strapped to the Rigby Horse. His legs had been carefully strapped well apart so that his fundamental orifice was fully exposed and accessible; or it would have been, but for the fact that as Patrick entered, Turnbull was already in the process of receiving an extremely vigorous fuck from some burly sixth former, whose own (highly attractive) arse was clearly visible and incredibly enticing, as he thrust his cock deep into Turnbull.

Turnbull was emitting a stream of obscene invective against the ministrations of his tormentor. Patrick, unobserved for what seemed like an age, but was, in fact, but a few seconds, stood there marvelling at what was happening to Turnbull and thinking that this utter lout was truly getting a serious dose of what he had inflicted on so many of his unsuspecting classmates. But the scene was made even more phantasmagorical by the fact that the assembled boys had all stripped off completely and were all in a high a state of arousal by what they were witnessing. Picture, if you can half a dozen muscular young men, all members of the school rugby team, totally naked and sporting their man-meat rock hard, just waiting for their turn to give Turnbull's arse the pounding that it so richly deserved. Apart from Turnbull's vociferous complaints, no one said a word; there was total silence from the assembled lads.

Suddenly Redmond-Kennedy turned and saw Patrick standing there; his face fell as he thought that he had an understanding that Patrick would not interfere with what had been foreseen for Turnbull. Patrick put a finger to his lips and smiled. He motioned to Redmond-Kennedy to remain silent and then, by a simple lewd gesture indicated to him that he too, the Head Boy, would like to join in Turnbull's punishment. Redmond-Kennedy immediately understood Patrick's intention, Patrick dropped his own trousers and underpants, thereby freeing his already bone hard cock for action.

And so it was that Patrick was able to give Turnbull's arse a truly monumental fucking to avenge his friend, Roderick Pennington. No one really knew why Patrick had turned up so totally uninvited, but hen, no one knew of the close bond which existed between Pennington and him. Everyone watched amazed as Patrick pounded Turnbull with unrelenting vigour. Unlike the preceding performer, Patrick, once started, could not stop himself and went on with ever increasing force and stroke length until he climaxed and shot a huge wad of sperm into Turnbull. When it was all over, he quickly dressed and withdrew, leaving the assembled company to complete its chosen task. As he left he bowed deeply in gratitude to Redmond-Kennedy.

Patrick returned to his study feeling extremely contented. He knew he had played with fire in involving himself in an action which went well beyond the bounds of what could be considered a youthful prank. After all, all the participants were over eighteen year of age and what they had done to Turnbull was strictly against the then law of the land. If found out, they could all finish up in gaol. But Turnbull was one of those people who manage to make everyone's blood boil with rage and the result had been the act which he had witnessed and participated in. But there was not much chance of there being any sequel as Turnbull had been left totally blindfold and not a word had been spoken. So who had participated in this orgiastic act to which he had been subjected?

Patrick went out into the corridor a little later when he thought the affair would be over. He was right, for he found Turnbull half dressed and wandering around, totally alone. Once they had finished with him, Turnbull had been left completely alone just with his wrist straps undone, but still blindfolded and with his legs still firmly strapped to the horse. They had then, like will-o-the-wisps, vanished from the scene, leaving him to free himself and find his own way back to bed.

But the affair was still not quite over, for there was to be a painful sting in the tail of the evening's proceedings for Turnbull, which was the cream on the cake of what had been for Patrick a highly exhilarating evening. "Turnbull, what on earth are you doing wandering around at this time of the night half naked in the corridor." Patrick asked.

"Oh' it's you Ingram-Lewis; if you knew what I have just been through you would not believe what they have just done to me."

"Who exactly are "they" as you put it and what have they done to you?" enquired Patrick, feigning total ignorance of what had just happened.

But here again Turnbull made the cardinal mistake of allowing his abusive tongue to pour forth a stream of obscenities and invective on Patrick. "Oh fuck off, Ingram-Lewis; why don't you just fuck off and go and try to bugger yourself. You would not even understand if I tried to explain things to you. You just would not give a damn; so just piss off and leave me alone."

"Turnbull, I care not one iota for what has happened to you this evening whatever that may be, but knowing you, I am sure that you have brought your present misery upon yourself and you had better make the best of it. However, whatever it was, it most certainly does not give you the give you right address me, the Head Boy, in the way you have just done. Turnbull; I have told you several times to curb your foul language, all to no avail. However, in loco domini as I am, it falls to me as part of my onerous duties, to try yet again to set you on the straight and narrow. And so, Turnbull, I regret to say that I have no alternative but to exact retribution from you in the time honoured method used her at Rigby. In short Turnbull, I shall yet again find myself obliged to apply the cane to your naked buttocks. So Turnbull, I suggest that we retire to my study where I can deal with you properly." And with that, Patrick concluded his rather pompous remarks.

In spite of the grave situation in which Turnbull found himself, seething with rage, aggravated by what was bis very sore backside and now with the inevitability of a beating to boot, he was still not able to hold his tongue: "Jesus Christ, man, what a pompous pumped up prick you are, Ingram-Lewis; you lord your power over all and sundry as if you were God. Why don't you just piss off and go and fuck yourself."

"Turnbull is there to be no end to your foul language and insults? I would have thought that someone in your in your position would have felt a little humility. Drop your trousers and underpants and get across that stool there and let me see your naked arse, boy. I am going to give you yet another beating Turnbull, one which you will not forget in a hurry. I do this in the faint hope that it may finally teach you to watch your tongue. If you ever make such remarks to me again, then I shall take you straight to the Headmaster and you will again be beaten with the senior maple birch birch as you and Pennington were the other day. Now boy, brace yourself, for this is really going to be very painful. The normal tariff is twelve cuts, but as you have persisted in your foul mouthed invective, I shall give you three extra: fifteen cuts in all. So get across the beating stool as I have told you to do and let me see your arse."

Patrick left Turnbull, arse naked, bent across the stool whilst he took his time and selected his favourite Malacca cane, the most painful implement in his collection. He surveyed with a certain sense of joyful anticipation, the two globes of fiery red flesh presented by Turnbull before proceeding to give him fifteen, evenly spaced hard cuts. The bath brush had clearly done its work in "preconditioning" Turnbull's arse for the next phase of his punishment. It was with a certain feeling of personal satisfaction that Patrick viewed the target globes of flesh, which were already bright red and would soon be enhanced by welts raised by the vicious strokes of the cane. Yes, there was no doubt at all about it: Turnbull was about to understand the meaning of the word "retribution".