Stories of Tie Up Games

OK, I thought it was time to warn readers to set their smut filters to [OFF] once more.

What follows is merely the introduction. The frequency of posting of subsequent chapters (merely two of them) will be accelerated by a certain number of views or, even better, the number of comments (ones that I might appreciate!).

Here goes: smut filters off!

Filter off. Fire away!

It wasn't the most original start to an invitation but, nevertheless, Sean was more than a bit excited to find the note when he returned to his flat that Friday evening. He got home, slipped off his backpack, swept the beanie off his head and picked up the note with his other hand.

"You've been a very naughty boy." said the note, "Report to my study immediately." Robin was never the most creative partner he'd had (at least not in the literary aspect of their relationship) but he certainly knew how to punch Sean's buttons. All the stresses of the week's work hit the floor alongside the backpack. Sean anticipated the new stresses to which he'd soon be subjected. Perhaps wearing skinny jeans was not his best wardrobe decision in the circumstances.


Sean was a straight A student in the States but his parents had serious concerns about his behaviour outside school and had sent him to the UK at fifteen years of age to complete his education in order to separate him from his "friends" and give him a new start. He had lodged with distant relatives of his mother's and had formed a close attachment with their son. I'm not sure that his parents would initially have approved of that but, now that they had both graduated and both held down well remunerated jobs, the two young men were still together in all senses and Sean's parents were even expected to visit their three-bed flat in about a month's time to attend their civil union.


Sean headed straight for the small room that served as a home office but which was presently endowed with a sign announcing that it was the Head Master's Study. He knocked on the door. A voice from within called, "Enter." and, just as if he was about to undergo a job interview, Sean straightened his clothing and smoothed his short-cropped hair. He even gulped before entering.

The desk had been pulled away from the window and behind it sat a man in his mid twenties with brown, spiky hair, wearing a suit and tie and seemingly perusing a manila folder. Sean stood rather stiffly and the man looked up.

"Young man, you are in enough trouble already. How dare you appear before me incorrectly attired, Flynn?" So that was the scenario for their game tonight: he was to be the naughty schoolboy and Robin was to be the Head Master. "Now get to your room and get dressed properly."

"Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir, I'll get changed immediately. Sorry, Sir." Sean turned round and left the Head Master's Study. Just across the corridor he found the door upon which Robin had taped a sign announcing that the room was the "Junior Dormitory". He entered what had been their bedroom when he had left for work that morning.

Upon entering, Sean saw his school uniform neatly laid out on the bed. It was exactly the type he thought English schoolboys would wear when he first came over the Pond. Sean stripped completely. He looked down and thought, "Wait, wait, soon, soon" and hoped that his budding erection would soon subside.

Not many Junior Dorms would have featured a wet-shave kit but Sean knew what was required of him. Not many naughty schoolboys who would wear those wonderful shorts would have a five o'clock shadow and even the blond American couldn't go for two days without developing one, so Sean went into the en-suite, lathered up and made short work of his incipient whiskers. He stopped and gave serious consideration to removing the other body hair that was characteristic of a man in his twenties but a look at the underpants that Robin had laid out made him decide to shave just the sparse hair from his chest and the gentle squiggle that led up his slender abdomen to his navel. After all, even schoolboys' under-arms were usually follically endowed and he'd had a respectable covering of fine, blonde hair on his forearms and legs since he was thirteen.


Sean wasn't exactly the average Brit's idea of a typical American; he stood only five foot six tall and, weighing in at only a hundred and twenty six pounds (or "nine stone wringing wet" as his British friends would say), he had no noticeable muscle. His size made it easy for Robin to purchase real school uniform garments to fit him and, yes, there are still British schools that force the younger boys into those scratchy school shorts, although the scruffy grey shirts are no longer so easy to obtain.

Sean picked up the white Y-fronts from the bed, slipped his feet into them, pulled them up and arranged himself inside them. The rest of his underwear consisted of grey knee socks which he turned over neatly to reveal the double green hoops near their tops, and what he would have called a "wife-beater" but that he was getting used to calling a vest. Robin had even made two elasticated garters that would hold up the grey stockings and display two small green tabs below the turn-overs like an old fashioned Cub Scout uniform.

Sean admired himself in their full-length mirror. Not many naughty schoolboys would have filled those Marks & Sparks briefs so well.

It was time to add the mid-layer. Sean buttoned the crumpled grey shirt right up to his neck and lifted the collar. He tied the bizarre green and grey tie with the horizontal stripes and the square ends with a half Windsor knot and tightened it dutifully against his collar button. He could never get those lapels to look smart once he'd folded the soft collar down again.

With Sean's twenty-six inch waist his Head Master had managed to find a pair of scratchy grey school shorts to fit him even though they were somewhat tight, especially when he was bent over. Robin didn't seem to mind that tightness but they only came about half way down Sean's thighs even when he was standing upright. His fingertips certainly reached further down his legs when he was standing to attention than the hem of his shorts did. The elasticated green and grey striped snake-belt probably wouldn't last much longer but it did add a further touch of the 'fifties.

It was time to don the outer layer (outer layer, that is, until one of them could actually find a belted navy blue gabardine raincoat in a retro store). The grey 'bum-freezer' blazer was short enough still to display a pleasing proportion of Sean's school shorts and what they contained. Now he looked something like!

Robin never could see eye to eye with his star pupil about footwear. Sean always thought he should have to wear well polished (but extensively scuffed) black Oxfords but, when Robin laid out the uniform, his choice prevailed. At least those vintage red/brown sandals couldn't last much longer. Could they?

Sean stood back to admire his school uniform in the mirror once more and comforted himself by cupping the front of his shorts firmly in both hands. There was just one finishing touch. The traditional green cricket cap had been easy to obtain and the judicial application of a bleaching agent had left alternate gores green and grey. Sean placed it squarely on his head, examined the reflection of the embroidered badge on the front and departed for the Head Master's Study once more.



Three knocks on the door of "The Head Master's Study" were answered with a cursory, "Enter." and Sean, or "Flynn" as he would be known for at least the forthcoming evening, gulped and turned the door handle carefully. He entered and gently shut the door behind him. As he turned to face the Head Master before doffing his cap and folding it around its peak, Flynn decided that his shorts really were too tight. The Head Master disagreed. Flynn stood up straight like a good boy with his cap clutched in both hands behind him. Robin was a good actor and his 'alright, make me laugh, I dare you' look was quite intimidating and Sean's shorts seemed to get even tighter.

"Well, Flynn, there is so much you have to explain but I am a tolerant man," Sean didn't crack a smile, "so we'll just deal with the uniform infringement first." Robin did manage not to adjust himself inside his suit trousers but it was a good job he was sitting down. "Well, explain yourself, young man."

" - - I - -"

"Oh never mind, it will be a load of rubbish in any case. Lines! Thirty reasons why my boyfriend is the best boyfriend in the world. Dismiss." Sean thought that might be easier than the time he had to write, "Thirty suggestions for what Mr. Grayson ought to do to his naughty pupil over the next month." However, Robin did adopt most of his pupil's suggestions that time. Both players' most sensitive areas were now throbbing in anticipation.

"Y - yes, Sir." Flynn pulled his cap onto his head and rushed for the door.

"Oh, and no playing with yourself; it stunts your growth."


Sean grinned as he headed towards the "classroom". They would certainly have to store certain things elsewhere in the next couple of weeks before their playroom would be needed to accommodate Sean's parents. In the meantime there was that traditional school desk with its sloping, hinged top and old-fashioned inkwell. Sean went behind the desk, pulled out the wooden chair, sat down and withdrew a scruffy, lined exercise book from the desk. He sharpened his pencil and set about his appointed task.

Flynn carefully put the date at the top of a new double page and neatly inscribed, "Thirty Reasons Why My Boyfriend Is The Best Boyfriend In The World" on the next available line. With each of Robin's many talents, entrancing habits and sexy features that he recorded, Sean seemed to become even harder. Once he had recorded the thirty reasons, he thought it was too late to worry about stunted growth and was just about to risk it anyway when the door to the classroom opened.

Flynn stood up straight, pushing the chair backwards with his legs, and the Head Master stood sternly in the doorway. "Have you completed your imposition?"

"Please, Sir, yes, Sir."

"Very well, go and get changed for PT, while I check your work, and then return." Sean understood the implications of that instruction all too well. Up until now the level of punishment he would warrant had been up to him. He could have completed the nominated task perfectly but that would have been no fun. Now his fate was completely in Robin's hands. He rushed to the Junior Dormitory once more.


When Flynn came to what had previously been Sean's and Robin's bedroom, he noticed that the Head Master had prepared things for him. Once more the slight American stripped completely. He was certainly glad to be free from the constricting shorts and the y-fronts as he immediately sprang to attention. Such freedom could not last.

Being a schoolboy from the 'fifties, Flynn knew that the PT (not even p.e.) kit would be somewhat basic and he was not in the least surprised to find that there was no underwear, just a pair of white cotton shorts and battered white gym-shoes but no socks. The shorts, being based on a period pattern, would normally have been just about long enough to conceal his tackle as long as he was standing but they were also baggy enough to allow his current erection full reign. Flynn slipped on the elasticated plimsolls that Mr. Grayson had been so delighted to have discovered still to be available on line. Flynn was not quite so convinced.

Past experience had taught Sean that, whenever he was playing the part of Flynn, he would probably be required to take his school socks with him so he collected them and headed back for the classroom.


 

This is brilliant [mention]Xtc[/mention] cant wait to read what smut you have in store for us. They sound like a wonderful kinky couple and look forward to their exploits

Definitely excited to see where this story goes!!!

Thanks [mention]Socksbound[/mention] and [mention]gaggedfeety[/mention] suchencouragement is much appreciated.

[mention]Trickster[/mention], wow, that was quick.

[mention]bondagefreak[/mention] has complained that there are not enough stories about loving BDSM relationships. I hope this goes some way to addressing his complaint.

More smut on the way. You have been warned!

Upon entering what was once the young men's spare room, Flynn found the Head Master seated at the teacher's desk that they had improvised using an old dining table. (The drawer had proved useful in the past.) Flynn stood up straight and held his grey socks behind him as he had previously held his school cap. He wasn't as good a role-player as Robin and couldn't resist smirking as the Head Master worked his way sternly down his list of corrections.

"These barbaric American spellings can simply not be tolerated, and describing your Head Master as 'Dicky Dimples' is most disrespectful," Robin's poker face effectively gave the lie to that description at the time, "And Writing, 'My boyfriend is justifiably known as "Big Dick"' is inappropriate. In any case the only acceptable word is 'penis'". At that point even Robin nearly lost it. There was a delay while both men regained their composure.

"I see you are dressed ready for PT. Have you brought your long stockings with you?" Sean thought that there was no longer any reason to suppress his smirk as he brought the garments from behind his back. "Very well, you know what to do. We don't want to alarm the neighbours."

"No, Sir, of course not." Flynn rolled one of the grey stockings starting with the toe and folded the cuff back onto the roll before inserting it into its pair. He licked his lips, opened his mouth and turned his back on the Head Master who had emerged from behind his desk. Mr. Grayson took the toe end and the cuff of the proffered stocking and soon had them tightly knotted behind his star pupil's neck and the lump between them jammed into his mouth.

"Han' oo, Si'."

"Don't try to thank me. Hand me one of your plimsolls and get whatever else will be needed for your chastisement."

"Eff, Si'." Flynn removed his right plimsole and handed it to the Head Master who received it solemnly. All these prolonged preparations were doing nothing to relieve either young man's erection but, in contrast to his pupil, Mr. Grayson had found the time to don a jockstrap in place of his boxers before replacing his suit trousers. It had very little effect because his suit trousers weren't exactly a 'relaxed' fit to start with.


Flynn went to the ancient desk, lifted the lid and withdrew four tidily coiled ropes. They weren't very long but they were long enough as he well knew. Walking in just one shoe, even a thin plimsole always felt weird even though Flynn had done so several times previously. He turned the desk round and presented himself ready for correction. He bent forwards leaving his torso on the desk top and his arms reaching towards the ground behind it.

"I must admit, young Flynn, it's a good job you put those cross members between the desk legs during that woodwork lesson. Now there's no way your ropes are going to slip." Flynn grunted and snorted as the Head Master anchored each of the ropes round a different desk leg underneath the said cross members. Mr. Grayson tapped Flynn's ankles, pushing them against the front legs of the desk before tying them leaving his pupil in the splits position. He then gave the insides of both of his protégé's legs a very un-headmasterly tickling right from the rope round his ankles all the way up to the tops of his thighs. Having his pupil wearing such baggy shorts, even though they were rather longer than he would have liked, had certain advantages. Flynn held tightly onto the back legs of the desk as his own legs (and other things) responded and he let forth a barely suppressed squeal.

"That would appear to be secure enough." The assault hardly came as a surprise and Sean thought that his partner had nearly overplayed his hand (literally). However, the Head Master was a past master of keeping naughty schoolboys on the edge. Mr. Grayson moved round to the back of the desk and quickly secured Flynn's wrists so that his arms were forced straight. Obviously, with his knees still somewhat bent, Sean could have released the stress on his arms somewhat, but the last time he did that, his cruel Head Master pulled him backwards again, got another rope and made a loop round his right knee, round the back of the desk and round his left knee. Once it had been pulled tight and secured, any further bodily adjustment became impossible. The Head Master then seemed to remember something urgent that he had to do and left his pupil to try in vain to get comfortable for about half an hour before returning.


Mr. Grayson collected Flynn's discarded gym-shoe and took up his position. Flynn tensed up. "I just need to get my eye in." Robin waited, Sean relaxed, and then Mr. Grayson landed the heel of the plimsoll sharply on Flynn’s right buttock. The desk shook. "And the other side". There was a sharp slapping noise and the desk shook again.

The first blow proper was for the "Dickie Dimples" remark and the second was for "Big Dick". Sean had had to think exactly how much corporal punishment Flynn wanted when he wrote, "My boyfriend's green eyes are my favorite color." and, sure enough, Mr. Grayson landed a stinging blow whilst explaining that favourite had a "u" in it. The next blow was for "His eyes are a beautiful green color" and the next, according to the strict Head Master, would need to be delivered "in the old fashioned way."

Sean heard the sound of his plimsole being dropped to the boarded floor and Flynn tensed up.

Robin reached around his lover's waist and inserted his thumbs in the waistband of Flynn's old-fashioned PT shorts. Every one of Sean's not normally very prominent muscles stood out as those thumbs pushed down and forced the elastic over his demanding erection leaving it poking into the front of the old school; desk. Robin's thumbs and fingers, as they were drawn slowly round Sean's hips, stroked the tops and fronts of Sean's bare thighs making the naughty schoolboy believe that there was an imminent danger of his following through. Robin was certainly in no hurry as he worked the white cotton garment down thus exposing Flynn's stinging and somewhat roseate buttocks before leaving it lodged just below where his bum crease would have been if he had not been bent over.

Sean was breathing heavily and trying, not very successfully, to grind into the desk as his wheezing and breathy grunts escaped past the grey knot in his mouth. Perhaps it wasn't very professional of Mr. Grayson to rub his thumbs and fingers in firm circular motions over the skinny glutes so presented but he was enjoying himself and he somehow didn't think his star pupil's parents would be complaining. Sean's exhalations were now groans mixed with rather louder, but still muffled, squeals.

Sean was now jerking frantically against his bonds and Robin decided that it was time either to stop or to reach between the desk and Sean's lower abdomen and help him to gain the relief of which he seemed to be in imminent need. He decided simply to give a quick hand slap to each of his flatmate's buttocks and to leave him in his current "do-it-yourself" predicament while he went to give his own needs some attention without bothering Sean to help him. The resultant squeals were soon supplanted by the normal despairing groaning.


"I've just had a complaint from the neighbours about the noise," lied Mr. Grayson as he returned and picked up the plimsole from the floor. "I did warn you." Flynn's attempts to satisfy himself stopped and he sagged as much as the extremely restrictive ropes would allow. Not all of him, however, relaxed and, with the anticipation of the further application of the white gym-shoe, a certain part of him felt that it was due to explode.

Mr. Grayson was in a generous mood and he explained to Flynn that correction should always be tempered with mercy and landed just one, not exactly hard blow to each of Flynn's glowing arse cheeks. Robin thought that ought to be enough and Sean was beginning tacitly to agree.

"Well, my boy, have you learned your lesson?"

As Flynn nodded his head slowly, a sound that would have passed for, "Yes, Sir." indicated that it was time to move on.
 

Can't wait to see what's next!!!

Not long to wait!

Love the sock gag. The part about them dropping out of character made me chuckle. Looking forward to chapter 3

Thanks. The more commenters and views, the quicker the last part gets posted.

 



Both young men could have done with retiring to bed immediately but real life always has a habit of intruding into fantasy and the matter of dinner needed to be addressed. Mr. Grayson always enjoyed seeing his boarding pupil in those undersized, old-fashioned, striped cotton pyjamas, especially as the fly was totally inadequate to contain Sean's "enthusiasm" and he could have made his pupil get ready for bed. However, leaving Flynn with his hands bound in front of him using the specially lengthened pyjama cord that he had fitted was an invitation to the frustrated boy to bring things to a rapid conclusion while he was unattended and that wouldn't do at all. Mr. Grayson had to think.

"Now, I would like to untie you but, in your own interest, I can't have you stunting your growth any further." Sean protested. The Cruel Mr. Grayson carried on, "And, you surely don't want to be able to bring your hands into contact with your backside, that might hurt." Sean would have taken the chance first of one outcome and then the other but Flynn knew better than to hope. "So, I'm afraid I shall have to leave you there while I go and see what Cook has prepared." I somehow think that Mr. Grayson could understand the despairing, monosyllabic reply from his pupil but he chose to interpret it as being wished farewell and he didn't bother closing the door behind him as he left.

"Cook" was, in fact Akhtar Ali and his team at the local Indian take-away and Robin got on the phone and placed an order for a home delivery before sitting for a while enjoying the noises from the "classroom" as his flatmate went out of character and tried to get himself free so that he could "attend to the business in hand". Robin felt a warm glow; so did Sean but not there!


Robin checked the clock and Mr. Grayson straightened his tie. By the time he had got his pupil prepared for supper, the delivery should arrive. Mr. Grayson collected what he needed from the "Junior Dorm" and went to attend to his pupil.

Flynn tried turning his head to catch a glimpse of the Head Master in order to get some clue towards what he was about to experience but it wasn't a very successful attempt as the Head Master stayed behind him.

"Now then, Young Flynn, have you learnt your lesson?"

This was another chance for Sean to control the level of unpleasantness to which he would be subjected. He thought that the plimsole was enough corporal punishment for the evening so a nearly comprehensible, "Yes, Sir, sorry, Sir." slipped past the by now very soggy and no longer very secure sock gag.

"Glad to hear it, boy." and Mr. Grayson slapped his now redundant cane onto the desk with considerable force. We won't be needing this tonight, then."

Flynn thought it would be best if he answered, "Thank you, Sir." and it was easily comprehensible.

"In that case you will not have to go to bed without your supper. You must get dressed properly."

Sean saw the chance of imminent intimate relief. So did Robin.

"I shall help you." Robin was going to enjoy this. So, in his own rather strange way, was Sean.

Mr. Grayson freed Flynn's left ankle from the desk, lifted his lower leg and pulled off his one remaining plimsole. Once both ankles had been freed, Flynn could bring his feet together once more but he was still draped over the ancient oak desk even if he wasn't stretched so tightly. "Now, we don't want you playing with yourself, do we?" Flynn wasn't so sure about that but, as it was a rhetorical question, Mr. Grayson continued, "Let me help you with these."

The over-sized white shorts were quickly slipped to the floor leaving the naughty schoolboy completely naked.


Sean knew what was happening next even though he couldn't see those white y-fronts that Mr. Grayson had retrieved. With the Head Master's assistance, Flynn stepped into the garment and, once more, professional standards were abandoned as the cotton briefs were raised far more slowly than necessary up Flynn's slender legs. The waistband was brought to just under the schoolboy’s bum, where the dresser adjusted the positions of his hands and waited.

"Oarr fu..."

"Ah, ah, ah, we must discuss your foul language later." In spite of the smile, Robin thought that that was a near thing as the pulled the waistband of the abused garment up to his fiancé's hips, dragging it alarmingly over his scrotum and trapping his newly revived erection. Sean may have been slight but he did have a big nose and big ears.

Sean thought that it was a near thing too but he was used to being frustrated until his lover was ready to grant him release, and that was one of the reasons he loved him so much. It was always worth the wait.

"Right foot." Flynn lifted his foot and felt the unmistakeable roughness of his favourite (and only) school shorts. "Now the other one." The grey shorts were soon also lodged on Flynn's hips while their tightness supported them on his thighs before the Head Master warned him to stop wriggling while he freed his wrists. "Do not stand up until instructed to do so."

Flynn groaned.

Mr. Grayson untied the right wrist of his increasingly desperate pupil and instructed him to, "Put your hand on your head." Flynn could see what was coming and he groaned. The still-gagged, half dressed schoolboy was soon completely detached from the desk over which he was draped with his hands on his head. "Very well, stand up." Flynn knew better than to remove his hands from his head and, with some difficulty due to his not being able to use his arms, drew himself to the vertical.

Robin gave Sean a few seconds to recover from his previous immobility before ordering him to, "Face me, boy".


As he turned, Flynn couldn't help noticing the huge lascivious smirk on his Head Master's face. Sean thought, "Now? Now? Pleeeeease." but still held his peace.

The unfastened waistband of Flynn's shorts had fallen slightly but his shorts were in no danger of dropping all the while they fitted so snugly to his legs. The Head Master addressed his task. He pulled the front of the undergarment away from its wearer before pulling the waistband over the protruding member. Flynn tensed, the y-fronts became damp. The despairing groan assured Mr. Grayson that he had not gone too far. After a few seconds, Flynn sagged.

As Mr. Grayson adjusted the top of Flynn's shorts and inserted the flat metal hook into its appointed place, Flynn must have gained two inches in height as every muscle in his body tensed again. That still left the flies agape; agape far wider than any other schoolboy would have required. At that time Flynn wished that his shorts had a zip-fly. At least that would be over with quickly.

Mr. Grayson licked his lips and looked up into his pupil's eyes. Flynn wheezed and screwed his eyes closed. The cruel Head Master fumbled with the lowest fly button as Flynn's thighs tensed against each other hard enough to crack a nut. What a good job that Flynn's nuts were being kept well out of the way. Said nuts were now being cradled inside the briefs by the partially buttoned fly. Flynn was starting to think that he wasn't going to fit.

Once the Head Master thought that he had delayed proceedings long enough, he shoved the protruding, and increasingly sticky, pouch of the y-fronts back towards Flynn's person and stretched the two sides of the fly vent close enough to allow him to fasten the middle button. Flynn's abs weren't usually very apparent. They showed now. One last tuck and a little slap of Flynn's dick and Mr. Grayson completed his task. The grey shorts were no longer very discrete. How Flynn managed to keep his hands on his head was a matter of wonder to the Head Master but even his under-developed biceps stood out as his elbows forced themselves forwards.

"Remind me to ask your parents to buy you a larger school uniform ready for next term. You're a growing boy."

"Nnggh!" Flynn's teeth gripped the grey stockings like a terrier with a rat.

"No, forget that, don't bother." And Mr. Grayson gave the front of his pupil's uniform shorts a couple of little, appreciative slaps.


Mr. Grayson stood up and made to slip Flynn's disgusting stockings out of his mouth but Flynn backed off and shook his head. If he wasn't to get relief soon, he needed a bullet to bite on. "Very well, you may keep them in for a little longer. Some of the tension fell from overstressed muscles. Now that Flynn's eyes were open again, he couldn't help noticing that Mr. Grayson's suit trousers wouldn't have passed without comment in public.

"Very well, finish dressing yourself. And no touching." Mr. Grayson retired behind the desk and sat on the well-worn wooden chair playing idly with the piece of bent rattan that his pupil had given him as a birthday present last year. It's amazing what you can find on the web.

Seeing his lover sitting and flexing the cane while Flynn completed his school uniform did little to help Sean's erection to subside but Flynn was fully uniformed (including a somewhat damp pair of grey school stockings) and capped soon enough and the Head Teacher told his far from recalcitrant pupil to go to the Refectory and stand in the corner. Flynn replied politely that he would comply and departed for what was usually Sean and Robin's kitchen-diner while Mr. Grayson rearranged the classroom. He also took the opportunity to affect some personal rearrangement before joining his pupil once more.

Upon his arrival in the Refectory, Mr. Grayson checked to see that Flynn had adopted the expected posture. Sure enough, there he was in the only suitable corner, legs together, toes against adjacent walls and face buried into the corner with his hands clasped behind him. He noted that it really was time to get some "new" school shorts for his pupil, those seams would not hold for many more wearings. Tonight, though, they did shape his neat little glutes in a very pleasing manner.

"Tables while you wait, boy. We'll discuss any mistakes before you go to your dormitory tonight." It was one of Robin's ways of keeping the school game going. Flynn started his recitation. It was always part of Sean's game to see if the Head Master was actually listening and, sure enough, upon his declaration that, "Seven sevens are fourteen", there was a confirmatory stinging feeling in his flannelled backside. Sean knew that Robin couldn't get a really good swing in all the while he was standing in the corner.


The doorbell rang and Robin buzzed the delivery driver in - he did consider staying in his Mr. Grayson role and ordering his star pupil to collect the take-away but that mischievous thought was almost immediately over-ridden by thoughts of the potential consequences of young Amir being greeted at the door by an over-aged priapic schoolboy. Robin sighed - oh well.

Sean was called to table and the two flatmates shared a vegetable biryani and a chicken dopiaza whilst discussing plans for their up-coming nuptials. Sean took the opportunity to undo the waistband of his shorts and pop the fly-buttons for a while. His y-fronts were now a little more relaxed than they had been recently but it probably wouldn't take much to put them under strain again. It is probably not a common occurrence for a Head Teacher to share a couple of beers with one of his pupils but what else should one drink with an Indian? Supper proceeded at a leisurely pace until Mr. Grayson addressed his naughty pupil again.


"How many times have I told you about being improperly dressed, Flynn?" Sean knew it was game on again and, before he could answer, Mr. Grayson told Flynn that he would have to go to bed early as a result of his unacceptable behaviour. Sean thought that was something like. "Go and get ready for bed."

Flynn stood up, adjusted his cap and stammered a rather too keen, "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." and made for the Refectory door on his way to the Junior Dorm somewhat needlessly holding onto his shorts as he did so.

"Oh, and since you don't seem to want to wear your school uniform properly, just remove it all and don't bother with pyjamas." Sean saw the end-game in sight.

After Robin had shifted the dishes into the sink, Mr. Grayson headed for the Junior Dorm to check on his pupil, stopping on the way to collect something from the classroom. When he arrived, he found Flynn, like the good boy he was, standing in the corner with his hands clasped behind him in the expected manner. Robin rather regretted missing out on the preceding striptease but Sean was certainly ready for bed. He didn't resist as he felt his wrists being bound behind him. Indeed, he would have been disappointed if he hadn't done so.

Robin didn't even bother to pretend to be the stern Mr. Grayson who was concerned about ensuring that his growing pupil did not fall prey to the perils of onanism. Indeed, if he really was Mr. Grayson, the Head Master, what he was about to do once he had removed his clothes and when both he and his pupil had jumped into bed would certainly have breeched most professional codes of conduct ever devised.

OK, that's it.

You should now switch your smut filters back on.

Where to start? This a totally fabulous tale, well written and edited, (as is your wont), humorous, and (most of all) totally hot. The uniform shorts and socks, the role-playing, and the long-delayed prize are all perfectly described and manage to push a majority of my buttons. I love the way Flynn and Mr Grayson morph back and forth with Robin and Sean (is it a coincidence that Batman's Robin is Dick Grayson?). The dialogue, both inner and outer, is spot on, as is your method of slowly fitting in physical descriptions of the lads.

Thank you, sir, for allowing us entry to your delightfully smutty brain.

(Sending one's son off to England to get him away from Bad Influences is a definite frying pan to the fire sort of thing, isn't it?)

Oh, and one more thing: This definitely qualifies as a tale of a loving couple as suggested by [mention]bondagefreak[/mention] , so well done there also.

Thank you for that appreciation.
As for the names: I often use well known names (even if only well known to me) to help me keep track while I am writing. I'm glad the morphing works for you. I was wondering whether i was relying on it too much. I also appreciate your confirmation of my reluctance to outline charachter descriptions in a bloc at the outset.

As for sending one's son into the fire: it all worked put OK in the end - - - didn't it?

Thank you once again.