Date: Wed, 16 Sep 2015 09:20:30 +0100 From: tom Subject: LabTech Chapter 26 The Lab Technician Authors note: Usual caveats and warning apply, read this at your own risk, no representation of any person, animal, vegetable or mineral intended although if you do find yourself somewhere in this story with any of the aforementioned just think yourself very, very lucky! As ever all comments, ideas, suggestions, good bad or indifferent always welcome. Tom email: amias09@fastmail.fm ############################################################################### >>>> And, apologies as I actually forgot to post this last week as per the usual fortnightly schedule! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 26 – A sting in the tail "Well boy, come on and don't mess about. Take off your blazer and hang it over that chair." "Yes, Sir." "Well hurry up boy. Now face the wall in the corner and wait till I'm ready for you." "Yes, Sir." The cane scythed through the air with a very distinctive swishing noise. The red cushion balanced on the seat of the chair absorbed the three swift strokes without complaint, each stroke landing on the target area with such precision that there was barely half an inch to separate the parallel lines where they had landed. "Sir..." "Be quiet boy. Wait until you are spoken to." A further three strokes concluded the exercise leaving the unmistakable pattern of a five bar gate impressed upon the cushion. "Right. Now then boy, come over here be quick, hurry up. Stand in front of me and drop your trousers." "But, but, do I have to Sir?" "You most certainly do boy, don't you dare try and argue with me." The silence was broken by the sound of a zip being slowly unfastened and of the trousers slowly falling to the ground. "What the devil are you wearing boy?" "Sir, Sir, it's my new underwear." "Heavens boy! What's it made of?" "Aertex Sir." "My god it's, it's like net curtain material!" "No Sir, it's Aertex mesh Sir." "You look like a pansy in this, are you a pansy boy?" "Yes Sir, I'm a pansy!" "I thought so. Just get over my knee boy. Now!" "Yes Sir." "I can't do this!" spluttered Peter starting to laugh, soon followed by Tim who lying across his knee looked up laughing helplessly. "Bloody pansy, what a cheek!" said Tim. "Well that's the end of the role play then isn't it!" said Peter laughing. "I can't go on doing the Sir bit after this. Where d'you get that bloody Aertex stuff from?" "Lewis', they're hard to get with the matching vest, thought they'd get you going." "They have!" Peter rubbed his trousers. "So take your shirt off, lets have you in just the matching Aertex." "Good! Just what I wanted." Tim smiled and stood up to remove the white shirt. "Pete, you're right, I can't do the role play either, give me a bloody good spanking!" "The usual then, hand, Mr slipper and finish with Mr Cane." "Yeah and whatever else you want to do in between." "Glad you said that, I had something else in mind that wasn't in the usual schoolboy spanking scenario." "Will I like it?" Tim looked enquiringly at Peter. "What is it?" "I think you will, but I'm not telling you what it is. D'you want to give it a go?" "Just get on with it." Tim smiled, he trusted Peter implicitly as a master. They had tried most things and he was looking forward to the experience, whatever it may be. "Looks like you're all ready anyway," Peter reached out to feel the bulging fly of Tim's briefs. "So tuck the vest in your pants and get back down on my knee. Boy!" "Yes Sir." Tim couldn't help smiling. "I'll soon take that smile off your face," said Peter rubbing a hand over Tim's buttocks, "six on each cheek to start with and you can count `em off." Six alternate strokes on each buttock certainly did take the smile off Tim's face and concluded the warm up session, it was time now for the real fun to begin. "Ready boy?" asked Peter, one hand now inside the briefs gently massaging Tim's warm buttocks, his other hand kneading the erection that was pushing the fly out. "Yes." "Good." replied Peter. Pulling Tim's briefs down to his knees in one swift movement he revealed the reddened buttocks. "Now, start counting boy, six a side!" Tim winced, no longer having the protection of his briefs each blow was keenly felt, the colour of his buttocks changing to a fiery red. What was it about being subjected to such a humiliating ordeal that made it so pleasurable? Tim could never understand the underlying psychology and assumed in some way it went back to being caned at boarding school, latterly by the prefects just for the sheer pleasure it gave both. "Twelve." Tim's voice sounded strained. "Now, look at your bottom, you poor boy." Peter reached down to the floor beside his chair, feeling for what he had discovered to be an essential accoutrement to any spanking. Johnson's Baby Oil was indeed the secret weapon, pouring some into the palm of his hand he began to slowly, but very firmly massage it over Tim's glowing bottom. Tim for his part really enjoyed this section of the ritual, particularly when Peter's enquiring fingers began to slide up and down his crack. Of course it couldn't stop there, as in no time Peter's thumb was working in a circular fashion around a certain orifice before pushing it's way inside leaving the oily fingers available to manipulate Tim's balls. The head of Tim's cock nestling in the palm of Peter's other hand twitched expectantly, but Peter having brought Tim so close to the edge abruptly stopped the proceedings with a stinging slap across his bottom. Ejaculation was definitely not on the agenda so early in the game. "Fuck!" cried Tim, the oil having considerably heightened the moment of contact. "Don't you swear at me boy!" said Peter immediately treating him to another three on each buttock in quick succession. Tim took a deep breath, his bottom now glowing, he knew what was coming next. "Get up boy, bend over and hold onto the arms of that chair," to the Peter pointed to a blue arm chair, "it's the slipper for you." They both knew humiliation played a major part in the world of spanking and whilst physically intangible it could enhance the pleasure immeasurably. For Tim it was almost extreme, closely watched and being made to waddle across the room towards the chair with his underpants around his ankles, his bottom glowing red and an erection protruding from under the vest. Moving slowly across and bending over the chair Tim, was carefully watched by Peter who found himself quickly dropping the pretence of the traditional schoolboy punishment. Unable to resist temptation any longer he removed his own trousers to expose the same stained Y-fronts he had stolen weeks earlier from school, bending down he picked up the slipper from the floor. "Six to start with, boy." Peter smiled to himself. "Count them for me." Tim's punishment wasn't anything Peter hadn't experienced himself. Knowing first hand of the exquisite mix of pain and pleasure that the flat rubber sole of the slipper meeting the oiled flesh could generate. Fully aroused, he listened to the satisfying thwack of each blow and of Tim's gasp of breath. "Six..." Tim's voice was faint, his buttocks a brilliant red and feeling on fire. "Don't you dare move boy, stay in that position." Peter dropped the slipper and turned to look for the short scarf he had left for the purpose of blindfolding Tim. "Bloody hell!" exclaimed Tim as the scarf was wrapped around his head. "What's going on Pete?" "Shut up boy. I won't hurt you, besides you enjoy it as much as I do!" For Tim, being blindfolded had added a whole new dimension on the proceedings in that he now felt very vulnerable, unable to see and know what was going to happen next was as scary as it was exciting. "Another six first I think, boy. Count them." The slipper was doing it's work only too well, Tim felt he was between heaven and hell. "Good boy." said Peter dropping the slipper to the floor. He could hear Peter walking about and then by the rustling sounds it seemed he was unpacking something, he listened trying to work out what was happening behind him. "You ready then Boy?" Tim could feel Peter's body heat as he came close and leant over to whisper in his ear. "They don't do this next bit at school, I met somebody a couple of years back who did it to me, I think you'll like it though." "Oh god!" muttered Tim, whilst he had complete faith in Peter as a master, the unknown was cause for concern particularly as his bottom was really smarting. "Don't you move from that position boy." Peter looked down and gently kicked at Tim's feet to spread his legs slightly apart. "That's enough." "Hurry up, whatever it is!" pleaded Tim, the blindfold adding considerably to the feeling of expectation. "Don't tell me to hurry up, boy." Peter slapped his hand firmly across his bottom. "I could start with the slipper again and we've still got the cane to go!" Nine o'clock on the wet Friday night saw the sexually motivated two and a half teenagers resident at number twenty eight distinctly bored, each considering escaping somewhere to privately indulge in self-abuse. The sexually charged half, namely Alfie was watching the television with his parents and mistakenly thinking he was unnoticed, playing with himself though his pocket under cover of the latest comic. Sophie, also in the living room had naturally taken note of Alfie's manipulations, which in turn had fired her imagination, not to say her proverbial juices. Thinking of her recent conversation with Mark she decided to leave Alfie to his own clammy devices and find out if indeed Mark had yet found her a willing sexual partner. Mark, being equally bored had bravely decided to attempt to clear the entire weekends homework in one sitting and was sat at the table in his bedroom sucking the end of his fountain pen. However, the truth was that Mark was haunted by visions of Robin lying on the ground dressed only in his glasses and Y-fronts, the fountain pen doubling for whatever it was that Robin had between his legs. Naturally the continuance of such base thoughts had consequences, the main one being an erection. Now sharing a bedroom and wary of future events, especially getting caught in the act by his brother, Mark had cleverly encased his hardened member in a dirty sock inside his briefs, to safely absorb any discharge since he hadn't bothered to change from his school uniform. Of course, that also had the supreme option of being able to absorb any self-induced discharge, should his fantasies get the better of him. That was assuming any discharge didn't leak out of the hole in the toe of the said sock! "Oi, wot you doing?" Sophie burst into the room without any warning whatsoever, obviously hoping to catch Mark doing something he shouldn't. "You fucking little cow!" he said angrily. "Why don't you fucking knock!" "Why, wot you doing, something you shouldn't?" "It's all you fucking think of innit?" retorted the pot calling the kettle black. "Tart!" "Huh. If I'm a tart wot are you?" she smirked having immediately looked, but been disappointed that there weren't any outward signs of sexual activity, even both hands were on the table. "Well wot d'you bloody want then?" He turned to look at her, the faded denim mini skirt couldn't be much shorter, but then she had grown up a bit in the two years she'd been wearing it. Predictably his cock lurched in it's dirty, smelly sock, triggering his brain to switch focus from homo to hetro. If only he could invent some magic mirrors to go on his shoes! "You asked that boy yet then?" "Wot? Asked who, wot?" replied Mark knowing only too well what she was after. "You knows." After watching Alfie and now talking to Mark about persuading an unknown boy to masturbate with her, she was as the expression went, hot for it. Incandescent was more like it, with little chance of stemming the steam escaping between her legs. "Nah, I don't. Wot was it again?" Mark, was aroused, very, very aroused. Barely managing to keep his hands on the table, he wanted her to spell it out. If he came in his sock without touching it as a consequence, that would be a real bonus. "You said wanted to be there as well, to watch..." she moved over to him, "y'know, you said you had a mate who might have.. have.." "Have wot?" Mark squeezed his legs together in an effort to prolong the sensation of whatever it was that had started happening in the grey woollen sock. "You know. I just wants to see a boy wank!" even Sophie blushed at her admission. "Oh yeah, that's right innit." past the point of containing any ejaculation, Mark knew something hot was already leaking from his cock into the sock, "So he does it, then you do it and I watch you both, that's wot we said wunnit?" "Yeah, yeah, that's right." she snapped aware that she had been made to admit her fantasy. The excitement of having to actually put it into words had boosted succus production immeasurably and she moved from leg to leg hoping to dislodge her sodden panties which had miraculously wedged themselves deep in her dribbling slit. It wasn't actually that miraculous at all, since she had pulled them right up to rub on her clit as she had climbed the stairs. "That all then?" Mark watched her movements hoping to sustain the conversation at least until he had cum. "I'll ask him again, but he just don't seem too keen on looking at yer bits!" "Wot is he queer or something?" how could any boy not want to see Sophie's bits? "Don't think so, maybe your bits ain't very pretty! I don't bloody know do I, `cause I ain't never seen 'em!" Mark paused, the sock was full to overflowing, was something now slithering between his legs? "But, I `spose if I could tell him wot he's in for.. if.." "Wot d'you mean?" she interrupted. "Wot's he's in for?" "Well, you saw me cock the other day when the fucking bed collapsed, so I reckon it's fair you should gimmie a quick flash of your bits, then I knows wot you got and I can tell him if it's worth seeing!" "Wot a fucking cheek! Course it's worth seeing!" she snorted angrily. "You can sod off, `cause I ain't letting you look at it!" "Well... well... wot about.." said Mark slowly, desperately trying not to show any movement as his cock continued to spasmodically jerk inside it's soggy sock, "alright then, so let's put me hand up yer skirt and have a gert feel then!" "No! Well, I dunno... I dunno.. that ain't right." It was tempting, very tempting. Still moving from leg to leg her fanny certainly needed to be felt by somebody and probably a couple of quick strokes with a finger, anybody's finger would be more than enough to get her off. "Alright then," he said, casually pulling the chair further under the table knowing that he dare not stand up, "you could at least give us a flash of yer knickers then!" "Don't you dare tell nobody will you, it ain't right with brothers and sisters." She looked furtively around, her fanny now screaming out for some attention. "I ain't saying nothing, yer the one that wants to do it!" Mark casually shrugged his shoulders. "It's up to you innit?" "Uumm... I dunno." "Well make yer bloody mind up `cause I wanna finish me homework." having called her bluff he turned to the books as nonchalantly as his oozing cock would allow. "Here then! Be quick in case somebody comes in." Sophie moved to stand next to him, bending backwards to push her fanny virtually in his face she quickly pulled her skirt up. "Fucking assholes! Is that it!" Mark looked for a moment, sat back in his chair, then immediately moved within a couple of inches of her. Sophie's excess of juices meant the her panties were now translucent, the few pubic hairs and the pouting lips of her fanny plainly visible. "Have you fucking wet yerself?" exclaimed Mark peering at her wet panties, he sniffed a few of times. "Wot's all that stuff, it smells and don't look like piss?" "It's me fucking juices innit?" replied Sophie angrily, having finally realised that Mark had deliberately manage to humiliate her with considerable aplomb. Now very embarrassed she was on the point of pulling her skirt down, but knew if she did that Mark would probably threaten not speak to the unknown boy. Catch twenty-two. "Well don't bloody pull it down, let's have a good look then, I gotta be able to tell him haven't I?" Mark directed a wobbly finger towards the sodden mass. "I thought you girls had a sorta willy thing? Is it... where is it... is it hidden inside you or wot?" "Sort of..." plainly flustered she again went to pull her skirt down, "you seen enough now, you can tell that boy that... that I'll do it if he will." Mark was on a roll, neither thinking nor able to stop himself, sex was the only thing on his mind. He just had to know what there was hidden inside and there was only one sure way to find out. Without any warning he thrust his hand firmly between her legs and pushed on the wet panties which immediately disappeared up inside her along with his two ink stained fingers. Sophie having been on the cusp of orgasm well before she went into his room, stood no chance. Gasping for breath she immediately began to climax, effectively impaling herself on his chewed fingernails and tearing the centre seam of her panties in the process. Knowing absolutely nothing of the female anatomy Mark stared in wonder as she continued to equipoise on his fingers whilst moaning and quivering. It was to be a first for them both. For, to his utter amazement her climax then appeared to peak culminating in very forceful squirt of liquid from her fanny over his hand, shirt and grey school trousers. Mark watched open mouthed in astonishment as her legs folded under her allowing a far from graceful descent to the floor. Lying there a trembling heap with, as far as Mark could see, now two of her own fingers frantically wiggling through the tear in her panties. This was indeed something to report to the sexually inquisitive Martin. Surely this should be tempting enough to make him agree to participate, especially if girls made this much mess every time they masturbated! However, all those thoughts aside for Mark in addition to a painful erection that wouldn't subside, his briefs were awash with so much semen that it had already soaked through sock and into his new trousers. Then there was the small matter of his once white school shirt that had been subjected to Sophie's deluge of bodily fluid, which was already beginning to acquire a distasteful aroma of it's own and feel repulsive to the touch. By chance he glanced at his watch and immediately leapt up from the chair in shock, there was no time to loose before Alfie's ten o'clock bedtime curfew was in force and he would appear to go to bed. Quite how Sophie would get back to her room and he be able clean himself up in less than five minutes was a problem in itself. That said, the first logical move would be to drag Sophie to her feet and put her in her own room, although in practice it would have been easier dragging a sack of potatoes! Blindfolded and only able to listen to the continuing rustling sounds, Tim waited apprehensively awaited for Peter's next move. He didn't have to wait long and soon felt Peter pushing his arm between his legs, naturally assuming that Peter was going to grab his balls from below. He couldn't have been more wrong. "Fuck! Fucking hell! What are you doing!" cried Tim. "Fuck... stop it! Oh Fuck!" "Don't swear at me boy and don't you let go of that chair either!" replied Peter grinning to himself. "You want me to stop, you know the safe-word." "Oh fuck the safe-word!" "That's not it! Come on, have you been counting, how many is that?" "I don't know." groaned Tim, his balls already turned red and stinging like he had never imagined could be possible . "Well, then you should do! It's your balls that are suffering, so start counting now. Only five lashes.. ready, one!" "Oh bloody hell, no.. what about the ones you've already given me?" "It's not my fault if you didn't count 'em. You know the rules!" This certainly wasn't in the schoolboy spanking scenario portfolio, both though were thoroughly enjoying the experience. Never before had Tim subjected his cock and balls to being soundly lashed with a bunch of freshly picked stinging nettles. "Five.." Tim's voice trailed away, his were genitals stinging so much it had almost brought him to the point of using the safe-word. "Good boy, don't move, keep the blindfold on, it's time for your bottom!" "No... no!" "Yes," replied Peter excitedly, "only six, I don't think the nettles will last any longer!" Tim had had his wish granted, earlier that day he had asked Peter to take his punishment above what they normally enacted, the nettles had certainly increased the pleasure, such as it was to the point where Tim was hanging onto the chair shaking. "Right, stand up, you can remove the blindfold, then go and stand in the corner hands by your sides." "Yes, Sir." Tim's voice almost gone, he waddled, slowly and painfully to the corner, looking and feeling utterly humiliated. Peter started to clear up the nettles which had been flayed to pieces and did wonder if the nettle treatment had been a little much, but then it was Tim who had requested something a little more extreme. Throwing the tattered nettles into the waste bin and removing his yellow rubber kitchen glove Peter sat on his chair. "How are you feeling Boy?" "Delicate Sir!" "Well come here and bend over my knee again, we'll make that bottom feel better," Peter paused and grinned, "we'll make it better... ready for the cane!" More baby oil seemed to be the panacea. Tim slowly lowered himself across Peter's lap knowing that he delighted in this part of the ritual which was sexual relaxation personified, Peter's hands alternating between kneading his scarlet buttocks or gently massaging his genitals. "There's a good boy." said Peter quietly. Tim began to relax, Peter's one hand concentrating on Tim's cock, already erect and slick with oil for the entire length, whilst the other was began to focus on stroking his crack. Though yet again, Tim's relaxation was being carefully controlled, Peter knowing that at the first sign of over excitement he had to abandon the exercise, enjoyable as he found it himself. It only took a couple of minutes before he detected that Tim was adding some of his own lubricant to the oil that was coating his cock. Whack! Peter's hand came down very smartly on Tim's behind. "You disgusting boy you're leaking over me!" A further six slaps followed immediately after. "Bloody hell!" croaked Tim. The intensity of the spanking certainly curtailing any further seminal leakages. "Don't swear." Peter wiped the baby oil off his hands on Tim's Aertex vest and pushed him off his knee. "Right, bend over that chair again." "The cane?" queried Tim, with some justification. "Unless you want to say the magic work and save your bottom, then yes." Peter reached down on floor behind his chair for cane. "Do you?" Walking towards the armchair, his bottom again glowing a healthy red after the spanking, Tim shook his head. "No.. Sir." "No noise, you understand boy, I don't want you frightening neighbours!" It wasn't the cushion this time that had the five-bar gate emblazoned on it, it was Tim's bottom. Nobody could fault Peter's prowess with the rattan cane, each red line forming a bar of the gate, each perfectly spaced out and parallel, each very painful. Tim's eyes were watering by the time he made to walk away from the chair. "Where d'you think you are going boy?" Tim flinched as Peter tapped him on the arm with the cane. "You know what's next, don't you?" Tim certainly did know. They were nearing the climax, the culmination of all that had gone before. Combined in one last demeaning act, to be performed in front of his master, the humiliation, the abasement being itself a major part of the pleasure. "In the corner boy, you know what to do." "Yes Sir." Peter settled in the armchair and proceeded to pull his erection out and slowly begin to masturbate. Tim looked nervously around, his penance was to stand in the corner like a twelve year old and ejaculate over his underpants, then put them back on. When he had first heard it was what Peter had wanted to conclude with, he had thought very little of it. However, after submitting himself to his master's whims and punishment the powerful feelings of humiliation that were generated by being forced finally to behave as a wayward schoolboy were, what could only be described as degradingly exquisite! For the second time that night the bedroom door was flung open without warning. Alfie now stood in the doorway, also hoping to catch Mark doing something he shouldn't, instead a look of horror came over his face on seeing Sophie in the room. "Wot's she doing in here?" "Why don't you bloody knock? Don't nobody ever fucking knock!" snapped Mark, who having managed to get Sophie almost vertical and on her feet had so far failed to get her back to her room. "Wot's up with her then? Don't her legs work no more?" Alfie scowled, it was a boys bedroom after all and sister or not she wasn't welcome. "She's just messing about, give us a hand." "Do I have too?" Alfie headed for the table to deposit his comic. "Hang on I wanna put this down first." Having no time to wash off Sophie's fluidal contributions nor attend to his spunk impregnated school trousers, Mark was not best pleased. The last thing he wanted was for Alfie to notice and comment attracting attention to his predicament. Just to emphasise how perilous the situation was, Mark caught another whiff of whatever it was that Sophie had squirted over him. That along with the strong smell of spunk would be a pretty good clue to Alfie that all was not entirely as it should be. "Yeah, course you gotta fucking." Mark then turned to hiss into Sophie's ear. "Use yer fucking legs and fucking walk you fucking cow! Do yer legs fucking stop working every time you wanks then?" "Fucking sod off!" It wasn't the most polite repost for a demure young lady. "Cor, wot you spilt all over the table?" Alfie grimaced and looked at the blobs of strange liquid. "Cor, it don't half smell!" "It ain't me, you'd better ask yer sister, something she bloody did!" said Mark looking at Sophie. Strangely, perhaps by sheer coincidence on having heard the comment concerning her juices Sophie suddenly found her legs were going to work after all. Miraculously deciding of her own volition to return to her room before whatever it was, that was spattered over the table was investigated further by the inquisitive Alfie. "Bloody hell! Wot a cow!" said Mark breathing a sigh of relief. "Never mind her, wot's this horrible stuff?" Alfie looked distinctly happy, staring at his fingers and rubbing them together. "It's all yukky and it's gone over me new comic! Oh shit! Wot is it, it's all stinky and slimy! Yuk!" "Yeah alright, well don't fucking go on about it! Get some bog paper and you can fucking wipe it off!" replied Mark, he grabbed his pyjamas and held them in front of his glistening trousers. Walking sideways, in crab fashion he hoped Alfie wouldn't notice and headed for the bathroom to try to clean up at least some of the mess. Alfie looked at his comic, whatever it was it could certainly stick the pages together. ================================================================ Chap 27 to follow