Atonement | APPRENTICE FOSTER | Chapter 3

The Apprentice’s face flushed scarlet as he entered the room and saw the stretcher in front of him. The black satin sheet which covered it seemed to shimmer in the candlelight, but there was no mistaking the peaks underneath.

It is, of course, utterly forbidden, but we are aware that the boys occasionally discuss rituals with each other, usually in hushed voices in their dorms. As a result, the stretcher has become a somewhat legendary form of punishment. The very mention of it has the capacity to strike profound fear into the hearts of the uninitiated.

And so it should… It is the most intense and severe of all the punishments we employ, designed specifically to test the limits of a young man’s body and mind. Failure is almost inevitable, but acceptance of failure is a vital lesson a young man needs to learn on the path to full enlightenment.

The stretcher is a long, low, wooden bench upon which penis-shaped pegs of increasing sizes have been mounted. Apprentices are expected to sit on and, in many cases, ride the pegs, starting with the smallest and working their way up. Failure to complete the task results in a punishment of a similarly sexual nature.

I was accompanied today by Master St. Michael. He has natural authority and, at times, can seem quite severe. I would certainly not want to be the boy who got on the wrong side of him and it was quite a kick to get the opportunity to play his second fiddle.

I took great delight in slowly removing the satin fabric from the bench, revealing the shiny pegs one-by-one, watching with great delight as Apprentice Foster’s eyes bulged in terror. I was, however, impressed to observe this initial discomfort replaced by a look of defiance and determination. Nothing makes the Masters more excited than a boy who fully commits to submission.

Master St. Michael instructed me to prepare the boy, which is an experience I find profoundly enjoyable. It’s when you get to feel, for the first time, how he will respond to your touch and the level at which he craves you. It’s about tantalizing him: slowly removing his tie, savoring the squeak of the fabric as it loosens, unbuttoning his shirt and finding his hardening nipples. It’s about unbuckling his belt and gently unzipping his fly while listening to the sound of his breath become unsteady, quivering.

The boy was hard as a rock within seconds. It was a thrill to run my hands over the bulge in his semi-see-through garments and to feel it throbbing to the subtle rhythm of my touch. I pulled him back by his neck, digging my fingers into his windpipe to see if he was the sort of boy who responded well to physical dominance. The gasps of pure bliss which left his mouth confirmed that this was very much the case.

I have been described as a sadist, but I do not feel that’s true. The pain I inflict only ever happens within the boundaries of a boy’s sexual enjoyment. Yes, I push limits, and yes, I am uncompromising and somewhat unorthodox in my methods, but my dominance is actually a secret form of submission.

Once prepared, I handed the boy over to Master St. Michael, who seemed to enjoy the sensation of touching him and slowly removing the remainder of his clothing. There was an intensity in the way that the boy was looking at his Master and I noticed the feeling seemed to be mutual, generating an unusual sense of intimacy between them. Apprentice Foster was gently, almost lovingly, running his hands over the back of Master St. Michael’s head and onto his shoulders.

I flashed my fellow Master a concerned look which he immediately acted on. He demanded that the boy be prepared for the stretcher. Formality needed to return to the ritual; I hastily anointed Foster with oil, then ushered him to the first peg.

Foster sat on the first one without too much effort, swiftly turning his discomfort into pleasure while defiantly fixing his eyes on Master St. Michael, who studiously refused to look back, no doubt still trying to regain his composure.

Master St. Michael then ordered the boy to proceed to the second peg. Before long, the Apprentice was riding the third like a top-class jockey. I continued to rub anointing oils into his body, working my slippery hands up and down his solid dick which bounced and twitched in pure anticipation. Truth be told, I have rarely felt such an emotional connection to one of the apprentices. There was really something special about this boy.

As we moved onto the fourth peg, Master St. Michael licked his lips expectantly and massaged his dick through his suit pants. I held the boy in my arms and kissed him as he lowered himself down, feeling the shudders pass through his quivering body. This peg is where Foster showed some of his first signs of struggle, but he persevered, fixating on Master St. Michael with a look of pure desperation which returned the balance of power in the room to where it should have been.

The penultimate peg on the stretcher is noticeably larger than the one before. As I rubbed oils onto it, I could see the expression on this Apprentice’s face changing to one of nervousness. He nevertheless very bravely took it on, panting and yelling as it speared his body. Master St. Michael leaned forward and started to rub the boy's dick, almost as a reward for the tenacity.

Master St. Michael and I exchanged another look. Was it possible that the boy might achieve the near-impossible and actually be able to take the final peg? My fellow Master nodded subtly and I started to prepare it with oil. As I squeezed it with my palm, the idea of it being able to fit inside the boy seemed almost unimaginable and, at that moment, I saw the boy’s expression altering to one of defeat. Master St. Michael knew this Apprentice was beaten and that further punishment would be required.

Apprentice Foster was instructed to kneel on the stretcher while the Master removed his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. Master St. Michael then removed his belt and loosened his tie before kissing the boy with deep passion. He’d soon lowered his trousers and removed his shirt. The Master’s impressive dick bulged in his underpants, aroused at the prospect of getting inside this beautiful boy. Apprentice Foster obviously wanted this Master with every fiber of his being, too.

Master St. Michael ran his hard, raw, upward-curving dick over the boy’s ass cheeks before plunging it inside him. The boy immediately started to groan and pant, entering a deep trance as his body submitted entirely. Master St Michael started fucking him hard and quite erratically, seemingly unable to get a rhythm going. He was so profoundly excited that he knew he just needed to cum, if for no other reason than to regain his composure.

The Master went over the edge, shooting his seed deep inside Apprentice Foster, filling him completely. St. Michael pulled out only to push back inside again, almost acknowledging, in that instance, that his dick couldn’t be anywhere else.

And then, just like that, the moment passed. Master St. Michael casually instructed the Apprentice to get himself cleaned up and return to his room. The boy’s punishment had been administered, and it seems, received beautifully.