11 year old Peter had begun to relax a little at his new grammar school. It was not as strict as he was led to suppose. His dad was a severe disciplinarian at home and young Peter often had to bend across a leather chair in his father's study and with his shorts and underpants around his ankles, submit to many very hard strokes from a thin cane. He had been told that the Headmaster at his new school would do the same and all the masters would use a cane in the classroom to keep order. His dad had told him he really must be on his very best behaviour because if he did get into trouble he would be caned at home as well as at school. The little lad was frightened stiff. He was used to it at home but the idea of taking his trousers and pants off in a classroom of boys and have them watching him getting it scared him. He always cried a lot when his dad caned him, which was not surprising because he was always thrashed very severely. He worried about crying in the classroom. He had not considered that if he was caned in class he might be permitted to keep his shorts on.
After a few days of expecting masters to produce canes from their cupboards or desks, nothing materialised. Only the headmaster uses one he was told. He was relieved but decided not to tell his dad this. He received a thrashing at home the end of his first week but that was quite normal. By the end of the second week the threat of school caning had diminished considerably in his mind and despite a further very sound caning for being cheeky to his mother on Saturday, he returned to school on Monday at the start of his third week a happy boy. He was quite used to sitting at his desk on his hard chair that continually reminded him of his cane welts hidden under his grey flannel shorts. He was careful to avoid boys seeing these when changing for PT now that he knew he would not be caned at school unless he did something really terrible. He had not considered that to be a problem because he expected lots of boys to be walking around with cane striped bottoms but now he would have to say it was his dad that did it to him. He was really a well behaved boy, no doubt as a result of his strict upbringing and the boys around him always seemed so much more naughty than him, so why was it that he only seemed to have the cane marks. He talked about the cane a lot in the first couple of weeks and asked everyone in his class if they got it at home and only one boy admitted that he did sometimes but certainly not nearly every week. Now he felt the odd one out and he hated that.
He was an average scholar but unlike most of his class fellows had never done any French before, let alone Latin. He had only gone to a small village school and was the only boy that had passed his eleven plus in his year. So from being the brightest he was now only average and considerable behind those that had attended much bigger primary or prep schools, particularly in languages. He really struggled with French and had absolutely no idea at all of how to pronounce things. In fact he was so bad that the French master thought he was being deliberately stupid. He was struggling to pronounce "bonjour monsieur" and kept saying things like "bongor messoo", "bongolore merssor" and making the master very angry. His homework at also been very badly done and he was told to report to the classroom after school. He sat down in his seat, reminded again of his father's cane and wondered what was going to happen. There was another boy who was to be kept in as well for bad homework.
He arrived in the French classroom precisely on time together with Dombey, the other miscreant. He was very small for his age and looked about eight. Peter was also on the small size and would be taken for a ten year old. There were four big boys sitting at desks and talking loudly. They were third formers and were waiting for the master as they had been kept in as well. They teased Peter and Dombey telling them that they were going to be unmercifully thrashed. Dombey looked scared and Peter worried about his cane marks. They sat at the back just as Mr Wilson, the French master came in wearing his gown and looking very stern. Peter noticed that the third formers stood up as he came in so he followed their example. They were told to sit down and answer their names. Mr Wilson ticked them off in his detention register that Peter learned was inspected by the headmaster each week and would end up on his school report. Mr Wilson told the two first formers to come up to his desk and Peter followed Dombey. Both were given their homework to do again and were not going to go home until is was completed to Mr Wilson's complete satisfaction. They returned to their desks and tried with little success to make sense of the work. They really should have had no difficulty, it having been gone through in detail in the lesson that day. They did though.
Mr Wilson paid his attention to the big boys sitting at the front who had been playing the fool in the lesson. They were being lectured sternly and were very subdued. A silence came down at the end of the lecture and all he could hear was Dombey's pen scratching inaccuracies in his exercise book. Peter just looked at his questions and wrote nothing that would have been even half-intelligible to a Frenchman. Peter then looked up to see one of the third formers approaching Mr Wilson's desk and bend himself over it. He looked at Dombey who was still writing. Peter felt very nervous and felt up the leg of his shorts to find his little willy to hold. Mr Wilson meanwhile was taking a cane out of his cupboard. It was long and thick with a bent over handle. Much bigger than his father's cane. The bending boy had retained his shorts and Peter was surprised to see that Mr Wilson did not tell him to take them down. He lifted the tail of his blazer and pulled the boy's shirt out at the back of his shorts and Peter could now see the whole of the boy's large grey flannel clad bottom. Without further ado Mr Wilson crashed the cane down across the bottom and the boy cried out. Peter noticed the ridge across the boy's shorts and wondered at the mark forming underneath. A second whipped down, then a third and a fourth and the boy was really crying. He was told to stand and get out of the room. He did so and Peter saw his face was all red and tearstained and embarrassed that his caning had been witnessed by two diminutive first formers.
The next boy assumed the position across the desk and Peter watched fascinated as the cane was applied to his bottom, this time clothed in dark grey long trousers. Mr Wilson had already pulled this boy's shirt tail out at the back of his trousers as well. Peter thought the long trousers looked much thinner than the shorts worn by the previous boy. This one did not cry though and just left the room holding his bottom and with his shirt tail still hanging out, a fact that passed unnoticed by the master. The third boy was much smaller than the others and Peter thought he was very smart with crisply pressed short trousers and neatly turned over sock tops. He pulled his own shirt out and bent across the desk. Mr Wilson seemed to cane him harder, Peter thought and he cried properly after the third stroke but he gained the impression that he was very used to being caned. After he had left the room Mr Wilson said something to the last boy who stood up. He was by far the biggest of the four and wore a plain grey suit in lieu of a blazer. The suit had quite long baggy short trousers and the boy took his jacket off and hung it on the back of his chair. Peter noticed the boy kept his trousers up with a red and white snake belt that was against school rules, being the wrong colours. Peter always wore a snake belt but his were the right colours. Peter then noticed the boy fumbling with the snake clasp and was excited to see him undo it and then unbutton his fly. The shorts just fell to his ankles in a heap and he bent across the desk. Now Peter was very excited as he looked at the boys big bottom stretching over the desk just covered in thin white briefs. Further excitement though as Mr Wilson, using both hands peeled the pants down to a point just above his sock tops. Now Peter could see the whole of the boy's ample bare bottom and thighs. He was still holding his willy that was feeling all funny and was somehow very comforted that boys did get caned properly at this school after all. Mr Wilson then took up the cane and suddenly cracked it down very hard in the centre of the bottom. Peter had never until that day watched a boy being caned on his bottom but knew all about what it was like to be the one receiving it. He was amazed to see the mark the cane left behind. It was bright red and contrasting with the nearly pure white of the flesh. Peter kept clutching his willy as he watched the next stroke whip down just below the last one. Now there were two parallel red lines like railway tracks. The boy made no noise but his bottom seemed to quiver as the cane was raised for the third stroke. This landed above the first and he thought he heard a whimper but did see him shuffling his legs. The fourth stroke was applied very hard indeed, below the second and the boy cried out in pain. Peter expected the boy to stand up but he did not move. Instead Mr Wilson raised the cane for the fifth time and cracked it down very low at the very base of the buttocks in the crease where the legs begin. The boy cried freely now and he squirmed with pain as the cane came down a sixth time at an angle, dissecting the five stripes and causing the boy to scream out.
The boy then stood slowly and clutched his bottom. He was told to dress quickly and go. He struggled with his shorts and snake belt and left the room half dressed and crying still. Peter thought he looked silly for such a big boy and was rather delighted to have watched him getting a proper caning. He wished Mr Wilson had given him more strokes though. He removed his hand from up the leg of his shorts and pretended to be working. Really though he could not and knew he was going to be caned soon and assumed it would be much like the last boy was given. Dombey was called out to bring his work and Peter watched the very little lad slowly go the master's desk clutching his exercise book.
"This really is not good enough, you know. I don't think you are trying or have been listening at all in the lessons. I went through all this today. There really is no excuse. Bend over the desk"
Dombey started to cry but tried to bend across the master's desk but could not reach the other side and keep his legs on the floor at the same time. Peter could see his fingers outstretched but with nothing to grip hold of. Nevertheless Mr Wilson continued the same routine and pulled Dombey's grey shirt tail out from the back of his shorts and cracked his cane down on his poor little bottom, one that had never experienced the pain of a cane and the cane used looked far to large for the boy. Peter thought his dad's cane would have been much better. Dombey collapsed into floods of tears but Mr Wilson quickly applied three more strokes and it was all over for him.
Peter realised he was alone with Mr Wilson and found himself standing at the desk whilst the master was looking at his exercise book.
"You have written nothing, boy!"
"No, Sir, Sorry Sir."
"Well if you think you have been sent to grammar school to be lazy, stupid and play silly games in my lesson you are going to get a shock"
"Yes, Sir"
"Have you ever been caned properly"
"Yes, Sir. My dad canes me, Sir"
"I expect you deserve it. You really need a severe thrashing. I mean more severe than you have seen just now."
Peter looked up and felt tears pricking his eyes.
"When your father gives you the cane do you have to take your trousers down?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well I think that is what we must do now. Hang your blazer behind your chair and pull your trousers down."
Peter found himself fumbling with his own snake clasp and for some reason said;
"At least my belt's the right colour sir"
"What do you mean, boy"
"The big boy who had to pull his trousers down had a red belt"
"Well, did he. That has nothing to do with you. Concentrate on what you are doing. Take your trousers right off and fold them neatly on your chair."
Peter obeyed. He was used to this after all. He automatically took his underpants off as well. If he was going to get the cane he was expecting to have to bare his bottom and did not feel uneasy showing everything he had (which was not much) to his new master.
"Now turn yourself around and bend across the desk."
Peter stretched himself across the master's desk and gripped the other side. The wood was cold on his willy that was squashed hard against the near corner. He preferred the softer feel of his father's leather chair. His bottom still ached a bit from the weekend's thrashing. Mr Wilson looked with amazement at the site of the pert eleven year old bottom covered in grey, purple and black bruises. Nearly all bottoms presented to him for caning were virgin flesh, only rarely showing fading marks of earlier chastisement. This was different though. This boy had obviously been very severely punished recently.
"When did your father cane you last?"
"On Saturday, Sir"
"How many strokes?"
"I don't know, Sir"
This was true. Peter never remembered how many strokes his severe thrashings consisted of. Mr Wilson thought it must have been well in excess of a dozen. Maybe even two dozen. Adding further strokes now was really going to hurt the boy. Still he deserved it and the master was not one to feel sympathy with an errant schoolboy. He took up his cane and cracked it down very hard in the centre of Peter's bottom, turning an angry black mark into a red and black one. Peter did not move but thought it felt different from his dad's cane. It was a different kind of hurt, not so stingy but a bigger hurt all the same. The sting came afterwards and it was if his dad was caning him straight after Mr Wilson and in the very same spot. The second stroke crashed down just below the last and again there were two pains to cope with. It was terrible and Peter started to cry. He wished he was across his dad's chair instead. The third terrible stroke landed and the whole of Peter's bottom was burning in excruciating pain. Those three strokes seemed to bring his Saturday thrashing right back to the peak of pain he experienced then but was now getting more. The fourth stroke was harder still and Peter was now crying freely. He was glad he was getting this in private he thought. There was more to come. Mr Wilson was admiring the boy's pluck but was determined to punish him very severely. He whipped another stroke down very low in a small unmarked space between a particularly vicious looking welt at the top of the boy's legs and the lowest cane mark on his bottom proper. Peter cried out louder than before but Mr Wilson was unmoved, This was a school punishment and it was his own fault if he had been already caned by his father. He cracked the cane down for a sixth time just above the last and refreshing another earlier wound. He did not stop but carried on applying strokes to make sure all Peter's bottom was covered in fresh marks. He gave the boy a full dozen. Peter just took it. He had absolutely no idea that Mr Wilson was overstepping his authority. Thrashings like this were what boys get he thought. He had been waiting for one at school for over two weeks now.
He missed the late bus home and confronted his father. He told him the truth and was sent to his study. He was though a lucky boy that night. His father told him he could wait until Saturday morning for his thrashing, but that it was going to be very severe indeed. During the week he was to obtain some proper school canes.