When I discovered I’d been the subject of a disciplinary hearing, I was shocked and incensed. I’m always well-behaved. Being good is in my DNA. The idea that the masters had been forced to discuss my conduct was bad enough, but the fact that they’d come to the conclusion that I needed to be punished was almost incomprehensible. What had I done? Every time I think I’ve got a handle on my apprenticeship here, I get blindsided. It never gets any easier. I entered the chamber, terrified, with my heart thumping in my mouth, feeling like my tie was about to throttle me. Master Scott was sitting on a grand, red velvet chair in the gloom, looking stern and staring right at me. He instructed me to stand at his side, and then ordered me to remove my pants. I took a deep breath in an attempt to steady my nerves and to stop my hands from shaking, before tentatively unbuckling my belt, repeatedly looking at the master in a vain attempt to work out what was going on in his head. I’ve not had many dealings with Master Scott—he’s always seemed rather aloof, wandering around the complex in his expensive suits with his steel-gray hair and handsome mustache—but the more I looked at him, the more I wanted him. By the time I’d pushed my suit pants to the floor, I was rock hard and bulging like crazy in my garments. If I’ve learned nothing else from my time here, it’s that obfuscation is pointless. Master Scott knew that I was erect. If I’d tried to cover my cock with my hand, he’d instantly have pushed it aside. Sometimes I wonder how the other apprentices respond to all of this. We are, of course, forbidden to discuss anything which occurs in the chambers, but sometimes one of the other boys will return looking so flustered and distracted that it becomes almost impossible not to assume that we’re all being put through our paces in the same manner. Whether any of the others are so aroused by the procedures, I don’t know. All I know is that, as I removed my pants, I couldn’t tell whether I was terrified or turned on, proud or utterly ashamed; wildly conflicting sensations which are becoming increasingly commonplace here. Master Scott parted his legs and instructed me to lie across his lap. I instantly fathomed the nature of my punishment and a multitude of thoughts began to dance in my head. My body sank into his, my thighs wrapping comfortably around his right leg....