(by Juan DeJesus, copyright 2000, all rights reserved)

It was pitch dark in Clifford’s dormitory room. The sound of someone trying a key in the lock of his door woke him. Though it was a room designed for two, he had no roommate. From his bed against the wall, he could not make out his bureau, barely a yard from the wooden rail at the foot. Perhaps he could see the shape of his desk, inches to his right and under the window that gave no light. Maybe he only sensed its comforting mass.

The door creaked opened and a man came in, carrying a lantern. That it was the headmaster, Clifford could tell from the tall, thin body and from expectation. The whale oil lamp inside its glass and sheet iron case provided slight illumination. But it was enough for the boy to notice that the headmaster was carrying a satchel. The man came all the way in, setting the lantern down on the worn surface of the youngster’s school desk.

‘You’re awake,” he observed. “I’ve thought of a new game for us. Are you ready for it?”

“Yes, Sir,” Clifford obediently replied. They had a history, these two. It had started over a year ago, when the young scholar was then 13.

“Good. Strip the bed and then yourself.” The headmaster pulled out the desk chair and sat. He put the satchel on the floor next to him.

The boy put his pillow on top of the bureau and then piled the bed clothes on top of that. His pajamas followed.

“Have you ever accidentally spilled hot candle wax on yourself?” the headmaster asked while Clifford was doing this.

“Surely.” Just about everyone has.

“It feels like it’s burning you, but it isn’t. At most the skin is reddened a little.”

The lad didn’t comment, but he got the idea.

“Lie down on your back,” the man told him when he was naked. “Cross your ankles, put your arms over your head and take hold of one of your wrists. Stretch yourself out as much and as tight as you can.”

When they began these games, ropes were used. At that time the boy wouldn’t have had the concentration or discipline necessary to keep himself in position by exercise of will alone.

“We’ll need a blindfold,” he was told. Clifford understood the reason. He was not to know in advance when or where the hot wax would fall. The headmaster fixed a wide and thickly folded cloth over his eyes and tied it in back of his head. It came to the tip of his nose and just covered his brows.

“Do you want a gag?” he was asked.

“I’d better have it,” the youngster advised. He could master himself vocally if he didn’t have to keep his body still, but couldn’t manage both. They didn’t want to disturb the other students with loud noises.

Clifford opened his mouth while the headmaster stuffed one of the man’s clean, thick handkerchiefs into it. This produced the most efficacious muffling, they found. The uncomfortable dryness of the cotton would eventually be eased by the boy’s saliva. There was no need to tie the gag in place since the youth wanted it.

Then the headmaster turned the boy over onto his stomach. Clifford stretched himself as tight as he could and waited for the first fall of hot wax. He knew it wouldn’t be immediate. The headmaster would be trying not to be predictable. So the boy concentrated only on being ready to hold himself still whenever it happened and wherever it fell. He emptied his mind of everything else and tried not to guess, because that would be counterproductive, if he were wrong.

*****

At the start of the school year, when Clifford was 13, he cut chapel on the first Sunday back from vacation. He knew this was a caning offense, but he did it anyway. At his first class on Monday morning, the instructor handed him a note that required him to report to the headmaster immediately after his last class. They liked to give a boy the entire day to think about what was going to happen.

It was with trepidation that the youngster walked to the headmaster’s office. In those days there were no secretaries, as such, so he rapped his knuckles on the door. Regrettably, there was no one there before him to allow a little more delay.

“Enter,” the man said. The youth did so.

“I’m surprised at you, Clifford,” the headmaster remarked. “All this time, and never a prior infraction, not even a little one. Now this, so blatant. What can you have been thinking?”

“I don’t know,” the boy answered.

“What was so important that it was worth punishment?”

“Nothing.” He appeared properly shamefaced. The lad looked good that way. He was fine looking anyway, good at games. The headmaster had thought that he might never get his chance with this youngster, he had been so obedient to the masters and the rules, or too clever to be caught.

“I am obliged to discipline you. Do you want to be caned or buggered?

A quarter minute passed.

“Well?” the man asked, sharply.

“Buggered, sir,” the lad answered instantly, seeming to arrive over quickly at an unwelcome choice.

“All right,” the headmaster said more quietly, accepting the boy’s decision. “Take everything off.”

The man watched while the youngster disrobed. “Even your socks,” he told the boy when they were all that remained.

Clifford finished and the headmaster called him over to where he was sitting, at his desk. With his feet, the fellow pulled a low stool out from under his chair, so that it was between himself and the desk “Stand up on this,” he told the boy.

The youth stepped up. The headmaster put his hands on the lad’s hips and turned him away from himself and facing the desk.

“Do you know why you have to have your socks off?” Clifford was asked.

“No, sir.”

“So that I can look down and see your toes, and know that you are completely naked for me. I have to get myself aroused if you are going to be buggered, and that will help to do it.”

While he said this, he slid his hands lightly over the boy’s body. Reaching around he examined the lad’s genitals, then pushed the foreskin back and left it there.

“You see the little drawer on the far right?

“Yes, sir.”

“Open it and take out the tin you will find inside.”

The youngster retrieved the small canister. At the same time, Clifford moved his left hand toward his crotch with the intention of restoring his foreskin to its proper place. The man blocked his arm. “Don’t touch it.”

“Please, sir, it doesn’t feel good that way.”

“Leave it alone. I want the little rose bud kept uncovered. Take the lid off the can.”

Clifford did. Inside there was a oily looking gel.

“Get a dollop on your fingers and set the tin back down.”

The boy complied with these instructions.

“This substance will make it easier for you. Put it on your anus and work it in. Use both hands.”

The youth did this, getting both hands smeared in the process.

“Whatever you do, don’t touch anything. I don’t want you getting my papers greasy.”

The headmaster slid his own pants and undergarments down to his knees. Now fully erect, he put his hands on the youngster’s hips and guided the boy’s backside down to his waiting member. He adjusted his penis so that it was positioned on the boy’s sphincter. Then shifting his hands to the top of Clifford’s thighs, he pushed down firmly and steadily. The opening began to spread. The headmaster maintained this pressure until he felt the tip of his instrument complete its penetration.

Clifford held his arms out from his sides, hands open. He didn’t know what else to do with them, since he couldn’t touch anything. For a time, he was stuck firmly on the end of the man’s rod. Then as his sphincter begin to relax, the boy tried to use the muscles of his legs to keep himself from being fully impaled. As his strength began to fail, his legs quivered with the strain. In spite of his efforts to prevent it, he slid inexorably down the man’s shaft, all according to he headmaster’s plan.

*****

Holding the candle about a foot above the boy, the man tipped the candle. He watched a ribbon of hot wax fall onto the tender area just behind the lad’s right knee. The youngster’s body jerked and a low noise escaped. Almost immediately the wax lost its transparency, returning to an opaque white, lighter than the boy’s skin.

While waiting for a new pool of liquid wax to form, the headmaster thought about where the next deposit might be made. He also used this time to remove his own clothing. Two candles would have allowed greater surprise in delivery since with only one there had to be some delay. But the man considered it best to let the effect of the first wear off before a second administration. It wasn’t as if there were any hurry.

Clifford next felt the sudden strike of the liquid on the back of his neck. The burning sensation, intense at first, dissipated to warm in less than a minute. He waited longer this time before an impact occurred at the low point in the small of his back. This was followed by one on the bottom of his left foot, then just below the left shoulder, behind the right knee and so on.

*****

The headmaster separated the boy’s knees and pulled him up onto his lap. Reaching around, he gripped each of Clifford’s nipples with thumb and forefinger. Pinching and twisting, he set the youngster to twitching and squirming. The man placed his hands under the lad’s armpits and shook him up and down. Finally he masturbated the youth. The spasms within the boy’s body worked to bring the headmaster to his climax.

The following day, Clifford’s roommate was moved to another dormitory. Custodians took away the other bed, bureau and desk. These were replaced with an upholstered arm chair, bookshelf and books, side table, smoking stand and a braided rug.

From time to time, the headmaster would spend his evening in the room. Unless spoken to, Clifford was go about his studies as though the man wasn’t there. On those nights, though not always, there would be some special activity, after the hour for lights out. And sometimes, like tonight, the fellow wouldn’t arrive until later.

The boy also had the advantage of having the headmaster as his personal tutor. By the time he was 16 and ready for University, he would merit the high academic recommendations he would receive. There would be personal endorsements as well, letters to dons that would ensure his transmittal into the proper hands.

*****

The man turned the boy onto his back. Here were the best targets; the crevices between leg and abdomen, the tender parts of the arms and legs, the underside of the wrist, armpits, the tops of the feet, the nipples and the throat. These were used.

Clifford’s belly button was not one of those that protruded. Rather it sank in quite a bit, making a hollow. He nearly lost control of his bladder when it was filled with wax. His legs and arms flew up a few inches before coming back to rest.

That pool of heat, insulated to some extent, took longer to diminish in intensity. Before it had completely cooled, Clifford felt himself splashed yet again, but by a more tepid liquid and in several places. Then the boy felt the bed sag under the headmaster’s weight as he sat beside him.

The blindfold was removed and the gag pulled out. The man was kissing him. Then they worked together to pry the dried wax from his body. It took a lot of feeling around to find it all in the faint light of the oil lamp. It was nearly as great a challenge to the boy to keep from giggling.

The headmaster used his hands to give the boy his orgasm. That night the man lay down with the youth and held him until he fell asleep. While waiting for that event to occur, Clifford thought back to the day he had decided to skip chapel. All the boys knew what choices were offered. That sort of thing gets around. And they knew that the headmaster usually had a favorite. That the previous one had graduated was known as well.

Clifford smiled to himself for being such a clever boy.