I’m presently mentoring Master Knox in the art of discipline, and a useful opportunity recently presented itself which enabled me to observe his progress.

We have a somewhat troubled young apprentice in our ranks: Apprentice Rivers. Accepting him into the fold was certainly a risk, but, when you make a breakthrough with a boy like that, the results can be deeply rewarding. Regular punishment has become a vital part of his training.

I decided to allow Master Knox to take the lead. I knew I would enjoy watching him in control. He’s a tall, masculine man with a powerful frame, who knows the importance of being impeccably dressed.

Knox instantly started to remove Rivers’ formal clothing. The boy remained passive but there were subtle signs that he was nervous and agitated, unsure what to expect from a master he’d never encountered before.

I detected a level of sexual excitement from Knox which pleased me. There was a neat ridge running diagonally towards the pocket of his suit pants which implied he was already hard. A master must enjoy his role and he demonstrated natural showmanship as he tore the boy’s belt off.

He physically inspected Rivers in a fairly rough-handed manner, which felt appropriate, especially when he began to integrate a sexual element to the proceedings. Young Rivers was soon clearly oscillating between states of fear and deep sexual arousal.

Knox started to prepare Apprentice Rivers with a unique blend of oils, allowing his large, masculine hands to glide up and down the boy’s shivering body. Rivers instantly yielded to his new master. He wanted to be held, protected, loved. Again, I was pleased.

We use a series of perspex pegs as part of the discipline regime. They are, essentially, phalluses of varying sizes attached to a long wooden bench, which the boy is expected to tackle one by one. Punishment is only effective if it exists in the unique space between pain and pleasure.

Rivers was instructed to prepare the smallest peg with lubrication before lowering himself down onto it and riding it slowly. The experience was plainly entirely too pleasurable for him which indicated the peg was too small, so I instructed him to move onto the second…

He did as requested, prepping the peg with oil again, before allowing it to penetrate him. But, again, it was all too easy, so we proceeded swiftly.

And so it went with the third peg, and then the fourth. These two pegs were a little less comfortable for the apprentice and he showed signs of struggling to take them. I instructed Knox to assist, which he did by applying pressure to the boy’s shoulders, effectively pushing him down onto the dildos. The fourth peg, in particular, required Knox to apply considerable force.

I was pleased to note that he began to use his hands to apply pressure to the boy’s throat. I could see the outline of the master’s dick throbbing in his tightly-tailored suit pants as he throttled and massaged the needy boy.

The penultimate peg was ever-likely to cause considerable issues for Rivers. I could see the panic in his innocent eyes as he dutifully lubed it up. Knox hovered behind the boy as he began to lower himself onto it. It was clearly a challenge and Knox was required to use brute strength to assist.

Rivers whimpered and shivered, repeatedly saying he couldn’t do it and requiring continual encouragement, yet with one intense scream, the boy sank all the way down onto the peg. Knox gritted his teeth and continued to apply enough pressure to keep the boy impaled. I stared hard at him, proud and somewhat aroused to see him taking such complete control of the situation.

The final peg is generally considered to be unmanageable. In my time using this psycho-sexual form of punishment, it has only been achieved a handful of times. That Rivers was even willing to try it spoke incredibly well of him. He tentatively prepared it, his face turning pale at the horrifying thought, but made every effort to take it. We were both impressed, but unsurprised when he ultimately failed.

And failure, of course, means more punishment, which, in this instance, centered around pulling the boy over my knee and smacking his bare ass with the palm of my hand. I made eye-contact once again with Knox. This is a part of the discipline regime which he is less familiar with, so I knew he would need to observe me carefully.

I started smacking him without a great deal of force, but he was soon whimpering and sniveling. Knox grabbed his face tenderly. Those all-important good-cop-bad-cop roles were suddenly reversed…

I moved onto a wooden paddle and built up the intensity of the punishment. Some of my blows doubled him over, making him clench and tense. His tiny body squirmed and convulsed over my knee, yet he was rock hard throughout.

I grabbed his dick and squeezed it as I upped the intensity of the paddling, then started to jerk him off. At this point, I was able to really let him have it, my paddle repeatedly raining down on his now bright red ass cheeks. Faster. Harder. Even faster. Even harder. The boy was writhing and screaming. My legs widened instinctively. River’s thigh was wriggling over my dick and causing it to harden.

The boy suddenly, and entirely unexpectedly, shot his load. I felt the juices seeping between my fingertips and glanced down to see he’d sprayed all over the place. And once a boy cums, his punishment needs to immediately end. He must be dismissed without ceremony and left to clean himself up in complete privacy while he contemplates what he’s learned from the experience.