Memoirs of a Voluptuary, or the Secret Life of an English Boarding School

CHAPTER II. PUNISHMENTS OF THE PRINCE

“Are we to have another yarn tonight, Blackie?” asked Bob when we had got to bed later that night.

Gaston de Beaupre would often take to regaling us with any one of his numerous affairs and adventures, most of which were of an extremely sensuous nature. Though he feigned annoyance, I sensed it gave him no small amount of pleasure recounting these tales as we gazed upon him with rapt attention. Quite often his words alone were enough to arouse us, and by tale's end, all of us had enormous cockstands which ached to be relieved. But Blackie never let us touch ourselves while he spoke, and I do believe he took some sadistic pleasure out of this. More than a few times, his stories would have me abed late after the lights were out, frigging myself and musing over his descriptions till I had sent a spending clear over my belly and onto the lower hem of my pushed up nightshirt. Hopefully, I thought, this night would be just a bit different.

“You chaps are playing me up pretty thick,” said Blackie. “Well, I don't mind obliging you, but I am not going to make it a long one this time. Let me see, what shall it be?

“You know I was telling you of that Russian man who was so fond of birching? Suppose I relate what I saw when I went to his place.”

“Yes, go on!” I said. “That will be fine.”

Well (Gaston related), one day my mother was going out and I had her permission to call and see Cecil. I felt sure I should find him at home as I knew that his general habit was not to go out till rather late in the afternoon. To my surprise however, I found the carriage at the door and he was fully dressed when I got to his room.

“I had no idea you would be here, Gaston,” he said after giving me a kiss. “I was going to call on the Prince Gourkadoff this afternoon. Would you like to come too?”

Of course I said “Yes” and we started off immediately.

Prince Gourkadoff lives close by in the Champs Elysees, and we weren't long in getting there. He has a very big place, as he was awfully rich you know, and the hall regularly swarmed with servants in wonderfully showy uniforms. A footman conducted us upstairs and handed us over to another one who led us along a corridor and through an anteroom into the presence of the Prince. He was a rather short man with dark hair, blazing black eyes and a slightly crooked nose. I could quite believe he was a terror when he got into a rage.

He had on an army uniform and was splendidly decorated – in fact, he looked exactly like one of those half civilized things that you see pictures of sometimes.

The room was a large one and furnished with a great display, but what struck me most was the number of people in attendance. As we entered, the curtains of the doorway were held aside by two good looking boys – Russians I presumed – in very handsome costumes, embroidered with beads and spangles. Two or three others were about the room, doing various things. One was engaged in fanning the Prince, for although it was not at all a cold day, the room was like a hot-house.

Cecil introduced me to the Prince, who smiled graciously but took no further notice of me for a time, occupying himself in close conversation with Cecil on some political questions, in which he appeared to take great interest.

While he talked, he smoked incessantly, a page doing nothing else beyond attending to his wants in that direction. He begged Cecil to have a cigarette, but Cecil smilingly refused, whereupon the Prince merely gave a little shrug of his shoulders and said, Just as you like. Smoking is such a habit with me that I could not give it up, but I quite understand that it is not the same with everybody.”

I also noticed a pair of magnificent Rottweiller dogs, huge beasts who seemed to be great pets, as the Prince continually put his hand down to fondle them.

I had little to do beyond eating some bonbons which the Prince had offered me, and felt rather neglected; but after our stay had lasted about three quarters of an hour, the Prince rose and said, “The usual parade is to take place now. Come, dear Cecil, I know you like to be present at the proceedings.”

He did not extend the invitation to me, but Cecil motioned me to follow and I accompanied them to a large room, thickly carpeted but devoid of furniture, with the exception of a few chairs. On one of these the Prince took his place and we sat by his side, while the entire side opposite to us was filled with a group of servants.

After a short delay, he said, “Katushka, you were guilty of disobedience and carelessness, and must receive punishment accordingly. Sacha and Mikail, you will please assist in preparing him.”

Two of the boys advanced and the three bowed solemnly, which done, the pair began in a slow and methodical manner to undress Katushka, denuding him of every article of his attire.

He was a splendidly fashioned boy, with a strong cock and big limbs, and I felt my own cock raise itself up against my thigh as I looked at him. He did not display any concern at being thus exposed to strangers, and gazed straight in front of him without flinching, careless of the fact that my eyes were dwelling with great interest on the smooth muscular surface of his belly and his cock with its surrounding bush of black hair.

“Sergei,” said the Prince to another boy, “bring me the rod.” This was a long slender instrument and the boy went on one knee as he presented it over to his master. At a sign from the Prince, Katushka now stepped up, and, kneeling down, repeated some formally framed sentences in which he expressed great sorrow for his misconduct, beseeching forgiveness and begging his master to chastise him for his fault.

At the finish, the Prince held forth the rod, which Katushka kissed, and he then, having bent over and touched the floor with his forehead, rose up and placed himself between Sacha and Mikail again.

They led him to an article of furniture shaped something like a praying desk that you find in churches, and supplied with cushions. On this he placed himself in a kneeling position, while Sacha and Mikail each retained a hold on one of his hands.

Having thus arranged themselves, Sacha, who was nearest to us, looked 'round to signify that all was ready, and the Prince got up and strode towards them. First taking a brief survey of the culprit's body, he raised the rod on high and brought it down with a sweeping stroke on Katuskha's buttocks, leaving a long red mark on the whiteness of the skin. After a slight pause a second stroke followed, succeeded by others, a few moments being allowed to elapse between each so as to increase the impressiveness of the ceremony.

Cecil had told me that the Prince was not cruel or obsessive in his chastisements, but as I watched him, I found it hard to believe this, and the crisscross of livid lines that formed themselves on the unfortunate boy's posterior gave me a distinctly uncomfortable feeling as I noted it.

Katushka himself, however, made no sign or cry of distress, at which I wondered; his sole evidence of suffering any bodily pangs was a little tremor and twitch at each application of the rod.

How many blows were administered I cannot say, but they must have mounted up to a tolerable number and I was beginning to have quite an uneasy sensation at the length of the punishment, especially on the recipient giving vent to one or two little cries and exclamations, when at last the Prince threw down his weapon and returned to his seat with a frown of weariness.

Sacha and Mikail raised Katushka up and as he faced us, I saw a trickle of liquid on his thighs. I fixed my glance more attentively on this and the following instant I realized to my astonishment that he had discharged.

I cannot tell you how amazed I was! It appeared that the rod was productive of pleasure as well as of pain, and the cries which Katushka had uttered had been extracted from him by his sensual feelings in the act of spending, and not by the stinging effects of the rod on his delicate cuticle.

After he had risen, he picked up the instrument of punishment from where his master had thrown it and brought it to him, and as he came closer to us, the traces of his emission were still more apparent to me, his semi-erect member being set with a somber light as though he had not yet recovered from his voluptuous sensations.

He made no gesture whatever, which would seem to draw attention to the palpable fact of his condition, and the Prince totally ignored it, merely holding out his hand to receive the rod, while Katushka knelt with unconscious grace and kissed the weapon, at the same time thanking his master in another set phrase for correcting him. Having done this, he retired to the further side of the room where he unostentatiously wiped himself and took his place among the others but did not resume his clothes.

Having thus been reassured as to the character of the punishment, I experienced only a sense of curiosity when the Prince called Sergei up for correction on account of some trivial offence – I forget what – which he had been guilty of.

He underwent the same treatment as Katushka as Sacha and Mikail again acted their parts in assisting while the sentence was being carried out. He was also a finely proportioned boy, as were indeed all the pages, no doubt having been specially selected on this account by the Prince from among the numerous vassals of his Russian estates.

He appeared, however, to be of a more volatile temperament than Katushka and took his birching with much less composure, writhing and uttering sharp screams, which only aroused the Prince to a greater show of energy, so that Sergei's large, rounded bottom presented a mass of pink weals, crossing and re-crossing one another, where the Gourkadoff had finished.

After witnessing the result on Katushka, I was prepared for something similar in the case of this boy and I was not terrifically surprised to find that his cock had given down its liquor; but I had hardly expected it to be quite to the extent to which it was, for indeed such a flow had outpoured itself that his thighs were literally bathed, and drops of the essence fell onto the carpet as he finally came towards us.

This bodily state that he was in forced itself into too much prominence to be overlooked, and even the Prince deigned to notice it, commanding the lad sternly to cleanse himself and prepare to receive a further dose of the rod.

This time the castigation did not take long, the Prince quickly tiring, while Sergei, when he advanced for the second time in order to give back the rod to his master and take his dismissal, did not on this occasion display the same physical control that he had before exhibited.

The Prince now called forward another of the pages. “I'm sorry Ivan, to have to display great severity to you, but after the warnings you have repeatedly had, it cannot be avoided and you must take the consequences. I trust it will have the good effect of curing your evil habits of laziness and sloth.”

These words sounded ominous, and I fell to wondering what form the lad's chastisement was to take. Two of the other pages, whom the Prince addressed as Vasili and Fyodor, were called upon to assist, and they began to strip Ivan of his bravery of velvet and silver.

He was a handsome boy, as were his companions, and his figure was equally well made in its way as those of the others, for all these Russians seemed to be of exceptionally good physique. He had a fairly good sized cock. It was not stiff, although I had expected it would be after the foregoing scenes, which had been exercised. No doubt custom had hardened him to these sights. He kissed the rod just as Katushka and Sergei had done and sought the Prince to punish him.

Then he was taken to the middle of the room and stood upon a stool. I had noticed two long chains, with swivel hooks at the end, hanging from the ceiling, and had been at a loss to understand the reason for their presence.

The riddle was soon solved, for a strap was buckled 'round each of Ivan's wrists and the chains were then fastened to these. The stool being removed from under him, he swung it mid air, suspended by his hands and in this position awaited the ministrations of the Prince.

The Prince brought down the rod on poor Ivan. The unhappy Ivan cried and groaned, kicking with his legs until he swayed backwards and forwards like a gymnast, while the pliant rod hurtling through the air did fall on his unprotected buttocks and legs in a smarting shower, his skin glowing crimson under the rapid circulation of the blood thus set up, while his cock swelled and stood out at a right angle to his body.

Towards the close, the Prince shifted his stand, going to the other side and applying some effective and well directed blows on his belly and thighs, making him cry out with redoubled force, while his swollen member fairly curled upwards, describing the arc of a circle, in the stress of his anguish.

At last the Prince's righteous sentiments were satisfied and Ivan was set free – after he had made his act of submission and dutifully kissed the rod, being allowed to stand back in his place and to do his best to soothe his ruffled feelings.

Next on the princess' list came two other pages, Vladimir and Dimitri. These were not made to go through the same course as Ivan, their offence being ostensibly more trivial, but after they had undressed and the usual preliminaries conducted, Vladimir was made to get on Dimitri's back, holding him 'round the neck, while the other grasped him 'round the legs, in this way receiving his castigation.

This was a much better manner, I thought, than that of Ivan's punishment, and there was no doubt some pleasure in it for Vladimir as he wriggled around Dimitri's warm back under the Prince's strokes. And I fancy the latter was not so severe either as in the case of Ivan.

Neither did Vladimir let any cries escape him, but only betrayed his perturbation of body by pantings and writhings. Once again, I was not prepared for eventualities, and it was with a corresponding wonder that I observed, when the Prince had ceased and Vladimir got down, streaks of moisture on the low part of Dimitri's back. I at first thought that this was only perspiration, but a closer look on moving a little nearer showed me that it was semen, and I saw Vladimir's member, which was inflamed, with a drop of white liquid exuded from the top, putting me in mind of a lozenge-shaped pearl. I can tell you that on seeing this, I almost envied Vladimir, so much did I want to satisfy the longings of my own cock.

It now came to Dimitri's turn and he had to mount Vladimir's back. This finished the series of floggings. All those who had felt the rod were called up and examined by the Prince to see that no serious injury had been done to their epidermis, and when he had satisfied himself as to this, he delivered them into the hands of Sacha and Mikail, who rubbed them well with salving ointment.

The Prince himself superintended this operation, and while it was going on, I spoke to Cecil in private. I told him that I had been very much interested in what I had seen, with one exception, and I said that I thought Ivan had been too cruelly treated.

“I think so too,” he agreed, “But it would be useless to say anything to the Prince, he is so arrogant – and it appears that he misbehaved himself very much, otherwise the Prince would not have used the form of punishment which he did. It is as the Romans used it to flog their slaves in a similar manner, only in their case it was much worse, as a heavy weight which they called 'centupondium' was attached to the poor creature's feet. There is as much pleasure as anything else in the punishments which take place here.”

The Prince returned to us and we went back to the salon. Some time elapsed before at length he beckoned me to him. Taking my hands in his, he looked at me with a glance of approval, and turning to Cecil, said, “Gaston has such a nice body. I quite envy you your intimacy with him. I should love to whip him! Nothing gives me so much pleasure as to practice on a young and tender body like his.”

“I am afraid, Rodya, that you must forego your wish. I do not think our young friend is pleased at the idea. And I would not have you hurt him for the world.”

“I should not think of hurting him. I have no intention of using anything but my bare hand. I have set my mind on it and must have my way! It is not too much to ask!”

I was of a different opinion and, as I saw the Prince's meshes folding close around me, I felt minded to draw away and hurl defiance at him. The words of pointblank refusal came to my lips, but I could not speak. The Prince had fixed his eyes on me, and their imperiousness and daring shattered my force of will as with a blow. He was one of those persons whose strength of character enforces obedience and enables them to carry out their desires against any odds.

Cecil, whom I had regarded as my ally, failed me in this hour of my need and spoke no word of protest, but remained a silent and interested spectator of the scene.

With an impatience of action, the Prince soon had me over his lap, my shirt turned up and my bottom exposed to his enraptured vision.

His happiness was my agony and I felt wrath indeed with Cecil at not joining force with me and preventing the Prince from carrying out his design.

The Prince continued his slaps, each one seeming more hurtful than the last, and I writhed under the exquisite pain. A numbness set in which served to counteract the stinging sensations I had at first experienced at each impact of the Russian man's palm, and a delicious glow began to make itself felt, and soon spread all over me. I don't know whether you have read the Confession of Jean Jacques Rosseau, but if so, you will recollect the pleasure he felt in being birched by his teacher.

All notion of painfulness had departed; the spirit of lubricity alone reigned. I no longer pined for the moment of release, but submitted to my penance – martyrdom no longer – with a sigh of content.

My lasciviousness knew no bounds when Cecil put his hand under my belly and closed his fist on my cock. My member worked in his hand as in a natural sheath, and when aided by sundry judicious little pressures and well calculated movements, he rather increased my joy.

All idea of his treachery was dissolved and I thanked him in my heart for not allowing me to miss the good fortune that I had encountered. As the Prince's arm rose and fell, I rose and fell with it, at each downwards motion striving to force my cock further into the warm nest offered it by Cecil's closed hand.

My breath came and went quickly and my jaws tightened under the ardor I felt. I could stand no more; my spirit was moved to its inmost depths and I emitted an expiring cry as I melted into a delightful ecstasy. My member leaped about like a live thing as it threw off its charge of sperm, while Cecil tightened his grasp on it as the sudden wetness imparted to him my warm spurt of semen.

The Prince and Cecil lifted me up between them and the later turned aside to wipe his moistened palm with his handkerchief, while my shirt falling down as I stood on my feet, concealed the traces of my recent sensual agitation from view.

“I thank you so greatly Gaston for yielding to me,” said the Prince, kissing me on both cheeks. “I owe you much for your patience and forbearance.”

I made some polite rejoinder and then proceeded to refasten my attire, while the Prince turned to Cecil.

“This has been too much for me, my dear,” he said. “I must go to seek relief. Will you come too?”

Cecil expressed his willingness and immediately arose.

“Gaston can amuse himself here while we are away,” said the Prince. But my friend took him aside and began to talk in a low voice. He was evidently using his persuasion in my behalf, for the Prince finally replied, “Very well, he can accompany us. I never would have suggested such a thing myself as it seems scarcely proper, but it cannot matter much, from what you say.”

So I went with them to the Prince's bedchamber, where Cecil and I took our seats on the couch, while our companion started to undress.

The Prince at once bade me to kneel before him when he had at last finished his dishabille. I looked towards Cecil for assistance, but he simply smiled and then pressed forward and whispered to me, “You know how to please, Gaston!”

I tentatively moved towards the Prince, and once close enough, he grabbed me roughly by my lapels and ordered me to suck his cock, which he had presented to my quivering lips. He shoved my head between his legs and pressed me down, urging me to begin.

I was somewhat startled at first, for the Prince had previously taken so little notice of me except as an object of his fancy for spanking. I obeyed of course, and took his thick cock into my mouth. All at once he thrust deep into my throat, which nearly caused me to rear back, but the Prince held to my head firmly.

At first I was displeased by his force as he pushed his strong hands on top of my head. My eyes welled with tears from nearly choking on his large member. But soon my displeasure and anger gave way to a warm sort of torpor which was augmented by his power. As he pressed my head down, and curled his fingers tautly through my hair, my throat opened as if to receive him deeper and deeper. I gave myself up to his forceful stabs, and my submission gave me tremendous pleasure, as though my body tingled with a new sort of abandon, giving myself up to his prick and delight. When one absolutely delivers their own body to the pleasure of another, a great deal of satisfaction can be derived. And thus I found myself moaning with pleasure, even as I held the Prince's cock deep in my mouth. I sucked more and more passionately and soon I could feel his muscles stiffen, and I could hear above me a cry of pleasure as he spent his royal load into my swollen kisses. I swallowed his come thirstily, and would've taken more had there been more. I continued to gently suck and lick his cock and balls clean. Reluctant was I to relinquish his prick from my lips. At last he pulled away from me and exclaimed to Cecil, “Cecil, my dear friend! What a treasure you have found here!”

But before Cecil could answer, the impetuous Prince adopted a lordly tone and said that we were welcome to take our leave.

“As you wish, Prince,” said Cecil, with a smile and bow.

“Ah Cecil,” said the Prince as Cecil turned to go, “Will you not bring him again to see me one day? It would afford me great pleasure.”

Cecil replied that he would certainly bring me again when an opportunity might occur, and I also told the Prince on my part that I should be most pleased to take advantage of his kind invitation.

Our stay was brought to a termination shortly after this, and having taken leave of the Prince, we drove back to the Avenue Moche.

“There, my tale has taken rather longer than I expected, so you ought to feel correspondingly grateful to me. The meeting now adjourns, good night!”

“Oh come now, Blackie!” I cried. “That was one of your best ones yet. I have a thumper of a cockstand, and I can see by the impression in your nightshirt that you've got one yourself.”

“Yes, Blackie,” agreed Jimmy, “let down your rule and allow us to have a frig at least. That was a wild one and if I don't have any relief, I'm afraid I might burst.”

De Beaupre glanced Bob's way, took note and nodded in agreement. “It was a torrid one, wasn't it,” he confessed. “Very well, this one night we may all bring each other to a spend posthaste, but only under two conditions.”

“And what are those?” said the Duke.

“Well, first that you and Sir Rutherford give each other a good frigging,” said Blackie with a grin, “and secondly, that as I am still a bit sore from our day's activities at the shore, Charlie shall frig me through the soft fabric of my nightshirt and shall have no direct contact with the tender skin of my hard-worked cock. Is this understood?”

“Yes, Sir!” said Jimmy, and he immediately set to work on Bob's tremendously engorged penis, freshly revealed from where it had hid beneath his nightshirt for the duration of Blackie's story.

Intrigued by de Beaupre's challenge, I approached his bed and lay down beside him. Ever so gently I reached down to tickle the thick and hardening lump of flesh I found through the white cotton at the cleft of his thighs. His dark eyes glistened as they gazed at me from beneath heavy lids, and though Bob would always be my truest and greatest chum, I felt myself truly captured by Blackie's charms this day.

“You were quite beautiful laying there upon that rock this afternoon, do you know that?” I said, not expecting any answer. “And the way you taunted Davenport, and especially Lawrence – I got so much wicked pleasure out of that one, I say.”

De Beaupre murmured and stretched beneath my touch, the full length of his great penis now throbbing and pushing its form through the soft, thin fabric. I ran my curved palm over its warm and thick impression, and gazed closely upon it as it continued to fatten beneath my gentle rubbings.

Slowly, Blackie's long, nimble fingers crept 'round my own swollen member and began tugging at the firm and giving flesh. Overcome with desire, I began to push his nightshirt up along his thighs, but then he stopped me.

“No, Charlie,” he whispered sweetly, “finish it this way.”

“It would make a mess,” I cautioned.

“Then a mess it shall be,” said Blackie.

So lusty was I for his great and pulsing cock that I fell to kissing it, and licking it, and even nibbling at it directly through the fabric of the shirt, causing fresh moans of appreciation to elicit from Blackie's lips. I moved to kiss them with my own hungry lips, leaving a damp spot where my mouth had worked upon his cock through his nightshirt. His lips were soft against my own and his breath was hot and quick upon my continued tickling and rubbing.

The sounds of Bob and the Duke as they brought each other to a smashing spend appealed to my senses, and shortly thereafter, I found myself shuddering and moaning upon my own volcanic spillage, brought upon me by de Beaupre's continued skillful manipulations. But Blackie was not immune, and he quickly succumbed soon again, his hot semen firing into the brief span between his belly and the rise of his nightshirt, putting a growing stain of spend into it just below his chest. I kissed it, drawing the sperm which seeped through into my mouth, and then kissed Blackie's lips once more, forcing him to taste the freshly strained juice.

After recollecting ourselves, our attempts to engage de Beaupre in further conversation failed and only elicited exaggerated snores from him, so, as he seemed intent upon ending a perfectly blissful day, we took the broad hint given by him and composed ourselves for slumber also.