Trained With Pain Read online

  Title Page

  TRAINED WITH PAIN

  by

  Mark Andrews

  Kinks Books is an imprint

  of W&H Publishing LLP.

  Publisher Information

  This ebook edition published by Kink Books is an imprint of W&H Publishing LLP, Foresters Hall, 25-27 Westow Street, London, SE19 3RY.

  Digital edition converted and published by

  Andrews UK Limited 2011

  www.andrewsuk.com

  Previously published by The Olympia Press PO Box 148, Ryde, Isle of Wight, PO33 9BE.

  Copyright ©Mark Andrews

  The right of Mark Andrews to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  This ebook is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by the way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, electronically copied, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent.

  Chapter 1

  “Aw, mum, they won’t bother us… Dad’s too important …”

  The boy’s mother stared at him, worry etched all over her beautiful features. He was right in one way. Her husband was indeed a powerful figure. He owned his own company which was the largest chain of privately owned supermarkets in Australia and he lived in a very large house on one of the biggest blocks on Sovereign Island, a man-made island in the Broadwater north of Surfers Paradise on the Gold Coast of Queensland.

  “Anyway, no-one’s ever been taken from TSS or St Augustine’s …”

  He was right there, but for the wrong reasons. The Southport School, an Anglican grammar school, was one of the best private schools in the state, as was St Augustine’s, its female equivalent, both situated in Southport, just north of Surfers’ Paradise. But it was simply because they were the best schools in the area that there had never been the need for the inspector to visit the homes of any of the two schools’ students before.

  Craig and Wendy Sedgman were not only superb athletes, handsome and beautiful and bright and bubbly and therefore popular with their fellow students; they were also intelligent, very much so, but they had become rebels and of late, had refused to knuckle down to their school work.

  That they had the capacity was well established. By the year 2030, technological advances had developed a machine that could instantly assess a person’s brain-power and even his or her strengths and weaknesses in a particular area. All it took was a few minutes sitting in the chair with the helmet over your head and the results were printed out for the benefit of parents and teachers as well as the student himself. Apart from determining raw intelligence, the machine suggested a career path but that was still up to the individual.

  The state took a keen interest in a child’s development but didn’t dictate what he must do with his life. What it did do, however, was demand that the child performed to the best of his or her ability.

  There was another change in education, too. Nowadays, advances in neurological research meant a much deeper understanding of aberrant behaviour including criminal and indeed, any psychopathic abnormality at all. These patterns were detected early and corrected in the school to such an extent that criminals were almost non-existent. These and other tendencies, once detected, were eradicated by special sessions.

  So was laziness or rebellion against authority. Not that Australia was an authoritarian state. It certainly wasn’t, any more than other democracies around the world, but the advances had meant that people could be educated from a young age to behave in a manner acceptable to the vast majority without impinging on their individuality.

  To this end, trained inspectors visited schools very regularly and when an irregularity was detected, went to the student’s home for a chat to the boy or girl in company with his or her parents. The home visit was not pleasant, either for the student or his parents but it was only the first stage in a series of ‘corrective processes’ that faced him if he didn’t change his errant ways.

  Craig and Wendy had been slacking off for months. They knew it but like so many children before them, they were testing the system … Every child will try its parents to see how far they can go — what they can get away with. That’s exactly what Craig and his sister were doing now.

  They were twins. Both tall and fair with fine, shining, golden blond hair, clear blue eyes, a perfect complexion and bodies that were quite perfect: highly athletic with well-defined muscles and an athlete’s coordination. Their minds were also highly attuned: they thought almost as one and could just about read the other’s mind. They had been and could still have been at the top of their respective schools if they had so wished.

  But they weren’t. They had been until the beginning of this, their final year, but half way through, not long before their eighteenth birthdays, they had, without actually articulating the idea, decided to goof off.

  The results were now in their mother’s hands as she stared from their report cards back to their somewhat defiant faces. “You are not inviolate, you know,” she said softly. “The inspector will be aware of these results …”

  “Indeed I am, Mrs Sedgman.” The voice came from the doorway. Inspectors did not need to knock on doors. They entered any house they wished quite freely and Inspector Donovan had merely used his universal key to enter the Sedgman house.

  The twins stared at him in horror. They had really felt they were inviolate, what with their father’s wealth and prestige, and the exclusive nature of their schools; but here he was and he looked very severe in his dark clothing.

  Inspectors were very carefully chosen, not only for their intelligence and understanding of human nature, but for the calm severity of their demeanour. They were meant to look severe. They never smiled. They were supposed to invoke fear in children and young adults who were not performing to their best. Their authority reached right up to a child’s thirtieth birthday by which time it was deemed a person who still needed their attention was ‘recalcitrant’ and was de-citizenised. He or she was then sold as a labourer to work out their lives in conditions that bespoke the slavery of centuries gone by.

  Paul Donovan had authority over all the schools in the Southport area including the private ones and he had been watching the Sedgman twins for some time now. But it was time to act, hence his visit to Sovereign Island. He had never had reason to come here before and his eyes had widened as he stared at the hundreds of million-dollar-plus houses on the island. He wondered what was wrong with the twins.

  They obviously had everything that money could buy; could it be their parents had the wrong approach? That had certainly been the case in years past. Rich kids had often been in that position and had grown up as bad eggs. This of course was why he and his ilk always visited the home first.

  But he had listened to Mrs Sedgman talking to her children and had sensed she really did care about her offspring. Could it be the father?

  He moved into the room and looked at the three Sedgmans severely. “Where is Mr Sedgman?”

  “I am here. Who are you?”

  The tall businessman strode into his wife’s sitting room, staring at the black-clad inspector with curiosity. He had felt the tension in the room as soon as he had entered it. Who was this man?

  “My name is Donovan. I am your children’s inspector …”

  “Ah,” said the senior Sedgman, as if that explained everything. Like his wife, he had had no idea the twins were not performing as they had all through the
ir school years thus far — with exemplary success, but he had sensed a change in them. What it was, he had no idea but he didn’t like it. Not that they were rude to him or Margaret or didn’t perform their chores with any less efficiency. It was really indefinable, but it was there.

  “And I suppose there is a reason for your visit?”

  “I take it you have not seen your children’s report cards, Sir?”

  “No I haven’t,” he said, taking the proffered booklets from his wife. He glanced down the relevant pages with disbelief etched all over his handsome face. “I see,” he said at last. And then, after a long pause, “So what happens now, Mr. Donovan?”

  “Since this is a first visit, they will be punished by me in front of you. I will then leave and you will speak to and with them. If there is a need for a second visit, or, more likely, a public punishment before all your school, the punishment will be very much more severe. If a third visit is necessary, I will take them away with me …”

  Bill Sedgman nodded and went to stand with his wife. He was ashamed that the twins’ actions had brought this ignominy on his household but it didn’t even occur to him to demur from the inspector’s decision.

  The twins stared from him to their parents. They knew the score. It was ingrained during every year of a student’s life at school. No one expected more of them than they could give. A boy or girl with limited capacity was taught to his limits and no more. A worthwhile job would be found for him that would suit him and which he would enjoy. But any child who didn’t do his best, faced this. They both knew it …

  “You will now remove your clothes,” he said.

  The words were uttered in the same measured tones he had used in talking to their father and mother. There was not the slightest hint either by expression or tone of voice that he wasn’t simply doing his job. But he was interested in their bodies — very interested. Not that he would touch them or show that interest. Not yet and not here. But if they were as good as he suspected, well, he had the time. And if they didn’t learn to correct their behaviour, well …

  They stared at him in horror, glancing at their parents from time to time. Was he serious? Did they really have to strip in front of him and their parents?

  There was dead silence in the room. Paul Donovan was well used to this at these times. The absolute power of an inspector was well known but what he actually did to the students wasn’t very clear.

  Eventually, when it became obvious they were dithering, he spoke again. “Strip now, or I will take you away with me … Believe me, that is an option you should avoid at any cost …”

  They jumped. The concrete building in Southport was well known to everyone. Inside its sombre, windowless walls, unspeakable things happened, or so everyone said. They started to strip, folding each item of clothing neatly, as they had been taught and laying them down in little piles on the table in the centre of the room.

  When they were down to their underwear, they paused, staring beseechingly at the inspector. He stared back at them and then gestured to their vests and underpants. “Get on with it,” he said in the same unstressed tones.

  They gulped, the both of them and then stripped the singlets up and off their upper bodies, revealing two quite perfect torsos, hers with nearly-formed breasts but otherwise as athletic as her brother’s.

  Then, now blushing furiously, they stripped, her panties and his underpants down off their hips. Wendy had kept her groin trimmed since she wore only the briefest bikinis to the beach but Craig’s pubic hair was in its natural state. Neither was very apparent though for the fine hair on their heads was repeated down there.

  Bill and Margaret gripped each other’s hand fiercely as their children were made to strip naked. They felt as humiliated as the twins at this denuding of their lithe young bodies.

  Paul kept his face strictly neutral but he already felt the urges down there. He had been a local inspector for five years now, having trained for the position for two years, but in all that time, he had never seen two more perfect bodies than these. Obviously, the tennis, swimming and athletics, his gymnastics and football and cricket in season, and her hockey and netball had developed these bodies to their present state of perfection.

  He particularly liked the pair of bubble butts. They were shortly going to receive his direct attention but of course he wouldn’t touch them. Children were as inviolate now as they had ever been and the inspectors were all very, very careful not to infringe on this very delicate area. But he could look as long as he hid his salacious interest in their bodies and this was something he had learned very well over the years.

  He also delighted in their shame. Nudity was no more acceptable in society in 2030 than it had been at the turn of the century and especially in front of one’s parents and strangers such as the inspector — except for punishment, public or private but in their case, neither had seen it in either of their schools. And yet he still wore the same aloof, disinterested expression as he had since entering the room; unlike the twins’ parents who were blushing almost as much as the two youngsters.

  “Fine bodies,” the inspector said, almost as an aside, “but you also have fine minds which you are not using. These results are a disgrace,” he said, holding up their report cards. Still, however, the words were measured, with no hint of anger or indeed, inflexion of any kind.

  “You are both going to be caned ...” He paused to let this dreadful news sink in, then went on. “This initial treatment will be a mere ten strokes. A token gesture really compared to what awaits you if you don’t buck up your attitudes …

  “You will stand facing your parents. Raise your hands and place them up behind your heads. Spread your legs wide apart. That is right; now you are to maintain that position throughout the punishment. If you move your hands away from your heads or fidget unnecessarily, we will begin the count again. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Sir,” they chorused, both now utterly ashamed and humiliated and dreading the coming punishment.

  He nodded and then extracted his cane from the case he carried with him. This was in two parts that screwed together but that didn’t take away from its flexibility or the implication of what it was and what it was going to be used for.

  He connected the two parts and slowly and meticulously screwed them together, right in front of the twins and before their parents.

  The twins were mortified; their parents, and particularly their father, was just as ashamed for them as well as for themselves, but Bill Sedgman was also angry with them. If the inspector hadn’t been there, he felt he would like to cane them himself.

  Corporal punishment was again acceptable in the home and school, as long as it wasn’t overdone but it was rarely carried out in such a shameful way as this. The young people to be punished were never stripped naked, nor even, usually anyway, were required to bare their buttocks, but of course the shame associated with the nakedness was an important part of an inspector’s armoury and used every time he had to visit a household.

  Inspector Donovan now moved around behind the twins. He would punish them turn and turn about. A stroke to the girl and followed by one to the boy was, in his view, the fairest way to give them the same degree of pain and shame.

  Paul Donovan was tall and looked almost thin, but he exercised hard in the gym and he was strong. He raised his arm now and then lashed the cane down, as hard as could, right across the girl’s shapely bottom. She had been told to hold her position and not to squirm about but she couldn’t help but scream. Neither of their parents had ever felt the need to punish them physically before — they had until this year been exemplary children, and so the cane to their rears was a totally new experience; one they would hope was never to be repeated. Alas, the human mind is a strange organ and who knows what makes it tick?

  Craig heard his sister scream and tried not to look down at her bottom but he couldn’t
help himself and was alarmed at the now red mark right across both cheeks. But then his first stroke hit and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He didn’t scream. He caught himself just in time but he couldn’t believe the pain.

  What had that man said? A token gesture? It didn’t feel like any token gesture to him! It burned and raged. It felt as if the man had laid a red-hot poker across his buttocks! It certainly burned as much as if he had.

  But then Wendy got her second stroke. It was as hard as the first and just above it. Again she screamed. She just couldn’t help it. She had noted her brother’s fortitude but she couldn’t match it. Neither did he at his second stroke. Donovan laid it right over his first. He wanted to hear the boy scream and by doubling up on the first site, he knew he would achieve that end. He did.

  Margaret Sedgman looked on, sobbing quietly as this inspector lashed into the naked bodies of her children but her husband was still angry, not at the inspector, but at his offspring. How could two so perfect children have gone wrong so suddenly — and so badly? Was there something wrong with the way they had brought them up? He didn’t think so. As parents, they had been schooled, like everyone was these days, in the best methods of parenting: how to get the balance between love and discipline just right; to give them what they could afford but not spoil them, etc, etc …

  So what had gone wrong? He had no idea but he hoped this so shameful punishment would correct whatever it was.

  The pair of them stood there, facing their parents, their beautiful young bodies on perfect display as the inspector treated the pair of them to ten, full-blooded strokes of his cane. He made sure every single one of those strokes was administered with the full power of his strong right arm. He wanted them to remember the pain and the ignominy of this punishment for a long time.