Robin Gets Punished

See http://xhamster.com/user/rjo91/posts/326727.html
AUTHORS NOTE. This story was written as a sequel to the story 'The Sergeant' linked to above originally written by user rjo91 who has unfortunately deleted the story.
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I was not happy at all when I put down the telephone after receiving the call from my friend ‘The Sergeant’. I had thought that I was doing them both a favour introducing them to each other, but now it seemed that ‘The Sergeant’ had not been happy at all with the boy and it was all somehow being made out to be my fault. That was certainly the last time I was going to do a favour for that man, but the question remained as to what do about the boy Robin. I felt he had let me down and embarrassed me by his behaviour.

The first problem was of course the lateness. The boy had told me that that had been the fault of the idiot taxi driver who didn’t seem to know the way. But had it been? I had no way of knowing. But, as the Sergeant had said, when he had been responsible for the training of officer cadets excuses like that would not have been accepted. How could a boy who would one day receive a commission from Her Majesty and who one day he would have to address as Sir, possibly be worthy of that honour if he was unable to cope even with the challenge posed by an idiot taxi driver.

The second problem was the matter of the skimpy underwear. ‘Nancy-boy underpants’ the Sergeant had called them. What had possessed the boy to wear such things? He had been given a direct order by the Sergeant to wear boxer shorts. I knew for a fact that the boy wore boxerbriefs on a day-to-day basis so why had he decided to change into those pants to visit the Sergeant, especially when he had been expressly instructed by the Sergeant to wear boxer shorts? Surely he must have realised that his choice of underwear would be regarded as effeminate, totally inappropriate for a visit to the Sergeant. He would never dare to turn up to be disciplined by me wearing pants like that. So why had he decided to wear them to visit the Sergeant? I could only speculate as to his motives but I was far from pleased, as it had embarrassed me. The Sergeant had tried to imply that I had sent him a Nancy-boy when I knew he only liked masculine lads.

Not only that, but comments had been made regarding the boy’s general attitude and appearance. Scruffy. Unkept. Ill mannered. Undisciplined. Untidy. Lacking parental discipline. In need of male discipline and control. Etc etc etc.

Knowing the mentality of the Sergeant, I was tempted to ignore most of this and dismiss it as nothing more than a highly disciplined military man’s opinion of civilians in general. But the boy had just thrown his clothes on the floor when the Sergeant had ordered him to strip off and I thought that the boy had long ago learned that when a boy strips down for discipline he folds his clothes neatly. That is surely a very basic lesson learned on day one.

Although I believed much of what the Sergeant said about the boy to be grossly exaggerated, the fact remained that the boy had disobeyed a direct order in respect of the boxer shorts, had been late, had been wearing totally inappropriate underpants and had behaved disrespectfully by throwing his clothes on the floor. Perhaps the boy did have an attitude problem after all?

The Sergeant had said one good thing about the boy though. He had reluctantly told me that the boy might, just possibly, be officer material. Coming from him, that was quite high praise. So the boy must have done something right!

I sent a text to the boy. Just a time and date. He knew what that meant.

As the time approached I wondered if the boy would turn up. When he had called me I had refused to speak to him and told him that we would talk face to face.

The doorbell rang. I looked at my watch. Five minutes early.

I opened the door to him. He tried to speak but I just stood and pointed to the living room door. We went inside. I closed the door behind us and turned to face the boy.

‘Strip to your pants.’

The boy hesitated.

‘Can I go to the bathroom first?’ He asked.’ I drank a few cups of coffee before I came out and I need to …’

‘Shut the fuck up and strip to your pants.’ I barked.

Robin pulled off his tee-shirt and I was quickly relieved to see the waistband of his usual boxerbriefs. I couldn’t help noticing what a good-looking boy he was with his pumped-up pecs and tightened abs. He was wearing belted low hanging jeans and trainers with blue boxerbriefs showing above the belt of his jeans.

He folded his tee shirt neatly and placed it on an armchair. He bent over to unlace his left trainer but could not hold his balance and had to put his hand on the armrest of the armchair for support. I started to wonder if he was completely sober.

Obeying my rules concerning the correct sequence for removal of clothing, he took off his trainers and placed them neatly on the floor next to the armchair. His socks came off next to be folded and placed neatly on top of his tee shirt. He was definitely on his best behaviour although clearly nervous.

He took off his jeans and started to fold them but some loose coins fell out of his pocket and onto the floor.

‘Pick those up now.’ I told him. ‘And be more careful in future.’

He picked up the coins, put them back into the pocket then folded his jeans neatly and stood at attention in front of me wearing only his blue boxerbriefs.

‘Now you can go to the bathroom.’ I told him, deciding that letting him go was better than having him wet himself later.

He returned quite quickly and stood at attention.

I looked at him.

‘You wanted to talk to me about something?’ I asked innocently.

‘What did that man say about me?’ The boy asked.

‘None of your fucking business.’ I yelled and slapped him hard across the face.

‘OW’

‘Next time you have an appointment with a friend of mine you turn up on time. Understand.’

‘It wasn’t my fau…’

SLAP

‘OW’

‘Understand?’

‘Yes, but …’

SLAP

‘OW’

‘Understand?’

‘Yes.’

‘Next time you have an appointment with a friend of mine you don’t turn up wearing girls knickers. Understand?’

‘I wasn’t wearing girls knickers. They were men’s pant… ‘

SLAP

‘OW’

‘Understand?’

‘Yes.’ He replied meekly. ‘But they were men’s pants. Honest.’

I looked at him.

‘Even if they were men’s pants that doesn’t excuse you wearing them. What if I were to decide to take you swimming and somebody in the changing room saw you wearing pants like that. What would they think?’

‘I don’t know.’ Robin mumbled avoiding looking directly at me.

SLAP

‘OW’

‘They would think you were a fucking Nancy-boy that’s what.’ I told him, using the Sergeants words.

I gave his face one last hard slap leaving a red mark across his cheek and almost bringing tears to his eyes.

I looked at the boy standing in front of me hands at his sides and noticed that his cock appeared to be hardening up inside his boxers. So he was enjoying it was he? Something would have to be done about that!

‘On your fucking knees.’ I told him.

I stripped to the waist and started to unbuckle my belt.

‘I’m going to teach you a lesson that you will never forget tonight boy.’ I told him as I unzipped my fly.

I dropped my trousers. I was wearing white boxerbriefs and was fully erect inside them. My cockhead was clearly outlined through the white material and I could see Robin’s eyes fix on the bulge.

‘Kiss my boxers.’ I ordered moving forwards so that my bulge was almost touching his face.

Robin obediently kissed my boxers, right on the cockhead as he had been taught. Then he reached out with his right hand and touched the bulge.

I immediately slapped his face as hard as I could. He had not been given permission to touch!

Robin looked up at me, tears in his eyes.

‘What did you do that for?’ he asked.

‘Did I fucking give you permission to touch my boxers?’ I shouted.

‘No.’ he answered, eyes downcast.

‘Then don’t fucking touch.’

I slapped him again.

I stood there using my thumb to pull the waistband of my boxers slightly away from my body and then letting it slap back noisily against by body, teasing the boy. I did this over and over, twenty times maybe, before I finally pulled my rigid cock out over the waistband of my boxers and held it up to the kneeling boy’s face.

I slapped Robin’s face with my cock, letting it swing freely and moving my hips to slap his cheeks. My cock was rigid, sticking out like a flagpole from the waistband of my boxers.

‘Kiss the knob.’ I ordered.

Obediently Robin kissed the very tip of my cockhead.

‘Suck it.’ I commanded. ‘And don’t even fucking think about touching it.’

Robin took my cock into his mouth,

‘Open your fucking mouth wider.’ I told him.

I started to move my hips, pushing my cock deeper and deeper into his mouth. I put my hands around his head and pulled his head down onto my cock making him take every single fucking inch of it right down his throat. He gagged and I felt his saliva around my cock. I held his head for as long as I dared then roughly pushed his head backwards letting him get a breath of air.

I made the boy open his mouth and gently teased him with my cock then without warning took aim and slammed it right down the back of his throat while simultaneously grabbing his head and pulling it right down so that his nose was buried in my pubic hair.

I started to thrust, really making the boy gag and choke on me and keeping my cock down his throat until the last possible moment before letting him get a breath. My cock was covered in his throat slime, his eyes were watering and I felt that he was on the verge of throwing up as I fucked his throat as roughly and deeply as I could. My bollocks banged up against his chin as I slammed my cock into his mouth. He sure was going to have a sore throat later!

I told him to sit on the floor with his back against the front of the armchair. As he moved I noticed the throat slime around his mouth and dripping down his chin. He tried to wipe it away but only succeeded in getting his hands wet and sticky.

I told Robin to go to the kitchen and bring four things. A clean tea-towel which was to be found near to the sink, a plastic bowl again to be found near to the sink, a mug of water and a roll of kitchen paper, to be found in the cupboard under the sink.

He did as he was told and returned carrying the four items. I noticed that he had also had the good sense to clean the saliva off of his face and hands while in the kitchen.

While Robin had been away, I had taken the opportunity to step out of my trousers and was now wearing only my white boxerbriefs, my feet having been bare from before the boy arrived. I had also taken my belt out of my trousers and placed it over the back of the armchair, a fact which Robin immediately noticed as he came back into the room.

I told Robin to put all the items on the floor by the side of the armchair and then told him to kneel in front of me and clean his mess off of my cock. When he had finished I put my cock back inside my boxers.

‘Twenty-five sit-up’s. NOW!’ I ordered the still kneeling boy.

He hastened to comply and started the sit-up’s, which he managed with out effort, as I knew he would. He told me that he does sit-up’s and push-up’s in his pants every morning to keep fit.

I followed the sit-up’s with twenty-five push-up’s before telling him to get to his feet. I had been unable to help noticing that as he exercised the size of the bulge in his boxers had been getting bigger.

When he stood up instead of standing with his hands at his sides he stood with his hands in front of him, obviously embarrassed about the erection and attempting to cover it up.

That cost him a slap round the face.

‘Get your hands by your sides and stop covering yourself up like a girl. What are you, a fucking Nancy-boy or something ashamed of your little willie.’

That was cruel perhaps. Robin’s ‘willie’ could certainly not be described as little!

Something I said must have got to him because, although he moved his hands away as ordered, he started to blush and the bulge in his boxers reduced in size.

‘Pants off!’ I ordered.

As he removed his pants, I held out my hand.

‘Give them to me.’

He handed me the boxers. I looked inside. Yes. Not only quite a bit of still wet pre-cum but also some older stains, which looked to me as if he had at some point in the past shot a load into them.

I handed the boxers back to him.

‘Put your pants face up on the armchair neatly arranged on top of the tea-towel with the waistband facing the back of the chair.’

‘Hand me the belt.’

‘Stand in front of the chair and spread your legs so that the tips of your big toes touch the legs of the chair.’

‘Place the palms of your hands on the arms of the chair.’

‘Bend forwards so that your forehead is touching the back of the chair.’

I stood behind the naked boy looking at his bare arse and his cock and balls, which were visible dangling between his legs.

‘This is for being late.’ I told him, lifted my arm and brought the belt down with maximum force across Robin’s naked buttocks.

‘Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh’ He screamed, his whole body jerking forwards. ‘Not so hard.’

I hit him again, as hard as before, giving him no chance to recover.

He yelled, grabbed his buttocks and stood up.

I brought the belt down around the tops of his legs below his hands. He screamed and almost jumped up in the air.

‘Get your fucking hands away from your arse.’ I told him as I administered another stinging stroke to the tops of his legs.

‘Not so hard. It hurts. Please don’t do it so hard.’ Robin begged as he slowly moved his hands away from his arse and bent back over.

Despite his pleas for me ‘not to do it so hard’ I couldn’t help noticing that his cock appeared to be getting bigger.

I brought the belt down across Robin’s bare buttocks even harder than before. He screamed. His body jerked forwards. His now semi-erect cock jumped into the air.

I delivered another hard stroke. He anticipated the stroke and tried to turn his arse away from it, the result being that I missed my aim and the stroke handed across his upper legs and thighs. I noticed that the boy’s cock was now fully erect.

I was now also extremely aroused and my cock was pressing painfully against my boxers. I administered a final hard stroke across Robin’s buttocks with all the force I could muster making him scream in agony. As Robin screamed I dropped the belt, lowered my boxers, spat into my hand and rubbed the saliva onto my cock. Without warning I penetrated Robin’s arsehole. His attention had been entirely on his stinging buttocks and the spit-lubed penetration came as a total surprise.

Robin yelled in painful surprise as I entered him. I put my hand on his back and pushed his neck down into the chair. I fucked him as hard as I could ignoring his groans and pleas. I was very aroused and knew I wouldn’t last very long.

I used my left hand to hold the boy’s neck keeping him in place while with my right hand I slapped his thighs and squeezed his nipples.

I felt his hole loosen as it became accustomed to the size of my cock. I fucked his rosebud, using the ridge of my cockhead to stretch the muscle as I moved my cock backwards and forwards with very short strokes. I rammed my cock in deep making Robin yell out. I pulled my cock completely out of him and slammed it back in with maximum force.

I found myself getting more and more aroused. I didn’t even consider withdrawing and after giving it to him for a few minutes shot a massive load of spunk up inside his hole.

I withdrew my spunk-covered cock from Robin’s gaping arsehole and told him to get down on his knees and suck it clean. He was a bit slow to comply but a good hard slap across his recently belted buttocks soon sorted that out. As Robin stood up after his fucking I could see my spunk dripping down from his arsehole and onto his thighs.

Now that he had been belted and fucked I imagined Robin thought his punishment was over. What he didn’t yet realise was that what he had just taken was only the warm-up and the proper punishment hadn’t even began.

I gave Robin a false sense of security by letting him get cleaned up and suggesting we had something to eat. I imagined that he thought he had been let off lightly.

I dressed fully on the pretext that I would have to answer the door when the food was delivered but made Robin remain in just his boxerbriefs. After we had eaten, Robin mumbled something about the time and making a move.

‘What did you say?’ I asked.

‘I said it was about time for me to go.’ He answered, looking at his watch.

‘Go where?’ I asked.

‘Home’.

‘I thought you had something you wanted to talk to me about.’

Robin looked surprised.

‘I thought we had already talked about that.’

‘We did. Why did you turn up at the Sergeant’s house wearing girl’s knickers?’

‘They weren’t girl’s knickers. I told you before. They mere men’s pants. Really. I swear they were men’s pants.’

‘Ok. They were men’s pants. WHY DID YOU WEAR THE FUCKING THINGS?’ I screamed.

‘I don’t know.’

‘DON’T KNOW?’ I yelled and stood up. Robin was seated in the armchair and I loomed over him.

‘DON’T KNOW?

’I’m sorry. I forgot about the boxer shorts. I liked the other pants. I thought he might like to see me in them’

‘You thought wrong. That man is old army to the core. These days guys in the army wear whatever sort of pants they want but in his day they wore regulation uniform boxer shorts. That man equates skimpy pants with Nancy-boys and everything that is wrong with society today. And when he says Nancy-boy I don’t think he means gay; he means pathetic sissy boys who can’t take it in the army. And that’s what he said you were. A Nancy-boy. Do you know how embarrassed I was when he called me and said I had sent him a fucking Nancy-boy?

‘It wasn’t your fault.’

‘No it wasn’t. But he doesn’t see it that way. So we have to prove to him that you are not a Nancy-boy don’t we?’

‘How? By me letting him beat the shit out of me again. I’m not going. No way.’

‘No. You don’t have to and that wouldn’t work anyway. I have a much better idea in mind. It involves the boy Tommy.’

‘Tommy? You mean the boy the Sergeant keeps chained in his cellar?’

‘That’s the one. What you probably don’t know is that the Sergeant.’ I hesitated trying to find the right words. ‘Makes Tommy available. Tonight he has been ‘made available’ to a friend of mine who has arranged for him to be delivered here. I have no intention of touching him in any way. While he is here he will witness you taking a beating for disrespecting his Master, the Sergeant.’

‘No.’

I looked at Robin.

‘It’s going to happen. Accept it. But let me finish.’

‘It’s not going to happen.’ Robin persisted. ‘You can’t make me take a thrashing in front of his boy. Please Ben. Not in front of his boy. Please ’

‘That’s exactly what I am going to do. Now shut your face and let me finish. That boy reports everything and I mean everything back to the Sergeant. There is nothing anybody could do to tempt Tommy to lie to his Master or withhold anything from him. Not money. Nothing. He is like a walking tape recorder. It’s even been rumoured he was used by the army in some sort of top-secret experiment and has microphones, cameras and a memory card embedded into his brain.’

I could see from the look on Robin’s face that he didn’t know whether to take me seriously or not about the top-secret experiments. Personally I didn’t believe a word of it but it was a persistent rumour I had heard from more than one source.

‘Anyway.’ I continued. ‘Tommy will report back on your beating which should satisfy the Sergeant that I paid attention to what he said and dealt with the matter appropriately. But there is more to it than that. Tommy has been made available for 24 hours. When I have finished with you tonight and you finally leave here duly chastised, Tommy will be placed into your care and will leave with you. He will remain in your care until its time for him to return to his Master at which time you will take him home. You don’t have to go in. In fact you must not go in. You just have to make sure Tommy goes in. You may use the time that Tommy is in your care to send any message you want to the Sergeant.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Exactly what I said. And the message that I would send if I were in your place is fuck you Sergeant I’m no fucking Nancy-boy.’

Robin looked confused.

‘If you want to get back at the Sergeant for something why don’t you beat Tommy yourself?’ Robin asked.

‘I didn’t tell you to beat Tommy.’

‘Maybe not. But that’s what you meant.’

'Ok. Yes. I want you to take Tommy home with you and give it to him worse than the Sergeant gave it to you. But not because I want to get back at the Sergeant for something.’

‘Then why?’

‘Because I want to give you the chance to prove to that man that his opinion of you is wrong in the only way a man like him understands. It won’t make him go any easier on you if you ever do go back to visit him again but he will respect you for it. And it will shut him up for good about you being a Nancy-boy. He will never mention it you know. He would be far too embarrassed to admit you had used his boy. But he will respect you all the more for what you did. He might beat you harder for it though’

The doorbell rang cutting off whatever Robin was going to say to that.

I told Robin to answer the door.

‘Dressed like this?’

Robin was of course still wearing nothing but his boxerbriefs.

‘Don’t worry. It’s Tommy.’

Robin got up, answered the door and returned with Tommy. Tommy was wearing army camouflage fatigues and boots. Very military looking. He came into the room and stood silently at attention, eyes downcast, the Sergeant’s training apparent.

Robin, standing behind him, started grinning. I ignored him. That smile would be wiped off his face soon enough when I got to work on his arse.

I addressed Tommy directly for the first and only time.

‘You are here for the sole purpose of witnessing punishment and reporting to the Sergeant that the punishment has been administered. The Sergeant should also be informed that I now consider this matter to be closed. Do you understand?’

‘Yes Sir.’

’After the punishment is completed your orders are to remain in the custody of the recipient of the punishment subject to his orders until it is time to return to the Sergeant. Do you understand?’

Tommy looked a bit surprised but nevertheless responded with the obligatory ‘Yes Sir’. As Tommy was never made aware in advance of who he was being made available to, he had no idea that the Sergeant believed him to be elsewhere and had certainly given no orders for him to be placed into Robin’s custody and subject to Robin’s orders which Tommy would be obliged to obey.

‘Strip to your pants and stand at attention to witness punishment.’

‘Yes Sir.’

That was the last time Tommy spoke in my presence. After he had stripped he simply stood at attention eyes downcast the entire time until he left with Robin.

Tommy was perfectly trained. A credit to the Sergeant. He removed his shirt, folded it neatly and placed it on the floor by his feet. His boots were unlaced and removed without him loosing his balance as Robin had done. His thick army socks were removed leaving him wearing a white tee shirt and white loose boxer shorts.

As Tommy stripped down I looked closely at his head but was unable to spot any evidence of scars or surgery.

Tommy removed the tee shirt, folded it and turned to place it neatly on top of his other clothes. He was wearing what appeared to be army dog-tags around his neck. As he turned, I caught sight of angry red welts crossing the tops of his legs and disappearing under his boxer shorts. It was readily apparent that he had quite recently been severely disciplined. I wondered what he had done to displease the Sergeant.

With Tommy standing at attention in his boxer shorts, I turned my attention to Robin.

‘You’ve got a good hiding coming to you now lad.’ I told him. ‘Stand at attention.’

Realising he had very little choice, Robin stood at attention.

I started to lecture him. I would not tolerate disrespect for to the Sergeant. He had shown gross disrespect to the Sergeant and was now going to pay the price.

‘I’m going to cane your buttocks.’ I told Robin. ‘Two dozen strokes. Six strokes on your pants, six strokes pants down buttocks bare and twelve stokes nude.’

I saw the look of horror on Robin’s face when I told him what his punishment was going to be. He looked as if he was going to protest then looked at Tommy and remained silent, probably thinking about what I had said and not wanting to look soft or weak in front of the other lad.

I pointed to the armchair.

‘Bend over. Same position as before.’

Robin did as he was told. I walked over to where I had concealed the cane and picked it up. Returning to where the boy was bent over the armchair, I lifted my arm and brought the cane down across the seat of Robin’s boxerbriefs.

He took the six strokes across his pants quite well.

‘Pants down.’ I ordered.

Robin lowered his boxerbriefs to a position just above his knees. I administered the seventh stroke across the boy’s bare and naked buttocks.

‘OW’

The eighth stroke landed on Robin’s bare skin leaving a red welt.

‘OW. OW. OW.’

I administered the ninth stroke. His body jerked forwards as the cane cut into the skin of his bare arse. He stood upright and clasped his bum cheeks in his hands.

‘Get back in position.’ I ordered.

The tenth stroke landed lower, across the tops of the boy’s legs. He yelled.

I administered the eleventh stroke. Again Robin yelled out but held position.

I administered the twelfth stroke.

‘Pants off lad.’ I told him.

Robin hesitated before pulling them down and stepping out of them. He seemed uncertain as what to do with his boxerbriefs once he had removed them, so he placed them on the armchair in front of him as before.

The naked boy bent back over the chair and I administered the thirteenth stroke. Robin screamed, stood upright and started to rub his buttocks.

‘Bend back over immediately.’ I told him. ‘If you fail to hold position again you will be restrained.’

Probably through fear of being restrained, Robin took the next few strikes without moving from his position although he was beginning to anticipate the strokes and moving his buttocks slightly with presumably the hope of avoiding the full impact.

As the nineteenth stroke of the cane cut into the naked boy’s bare buttocks he yelled loudly, stood up, and rubbed his arse.

‘Please. That’s enough.’ He sobbed. ‘I’ve learned my lesson.’

He had taken nineteen. Five more to go.

‘On your fucking knees.’ I ordered.

Robin, relieved that the caning appeared to be over, immediately complied.

Now I was going to teach him a different lesson. I opened my belt and fly then pulled my cock out over the waistband of my boxers.

I started to fuck Robin’s throat. Hard. Much harder than before. His eyes started to water and his nose started to run. Throat slime was seeping out of his mouth. I allowed him the use of the plastic bowl to spit into and the kitchen paper to wipe his eyes, nose and mouth.

Eventually I shot my load into Robin’s mouth.

‘Swallow my spunk boy.’ I ordered.

After Robin had drunk my load, I cleaned my cock and fastened my clothing. The naked Robin was still kneeling in front of me.

I picked up the cane.

‘Five more strokes lad.’ I told him. ‘Kneel and bend forwards so your forehead touches the floor.’

‘No Ben. Please.’

‘Are you disobeying me lad?’

‘No. But please I can’t take any more.’

‘Five more strokes.’ I told him.

‘Please can I put my pants on?’ Robin pleaded.

‘No. Now get into position or I will tie you down and give you an extra six for disobedience.’

Realising he had very little choice, Robin obeyed me and, although each stroke was accompanied by a loud yell, he remained in position for the remaining five strokes.

Robin collapsed on the floor.

I spat on him.

‘Now fuck off.’ I told him.

I pointed to Tommy, still standing at attention in his boxers shorts.

‘And take him with you.’