Jack had lived in this unique boarding school for almost three years now. It was a kind of a last-attempt place society sent their most troublesome, the most sexually deviant young men to be disciplined and corrected so they could then live normal lives. Jack had earned the ability to wear a shirt again, which he did with great pride. He felt proud to have made adjustments to his behavior, thoughts, and actions, and was ahead of schedule to graduate.
He had even earned himself a special little kind of promotion, in where he was now asked to hold the arms of the boys receiving spankings over the same pommel horse he’d been bent over himself many, many times. Still, when that paddle came down on the asses of those wayward lads, Jack still flinched upon impact. It wasn’t so far out of memory that he’d forgotten the sting of correction.
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Text is fictional.