WHAT 'it' IS REALLY LIKE, IF......
2 You are a middle-aged Police Inspector in a Provincial Town: JOB SATISFACTION: - A CIVIC DUTY WHICH IS A REAL PLEASURE
Every now and then, once, or even twice a month if I am lucky, a boy comes down the short flight of stairs that links the big room between my office and the row of holding cells to the Courts above. I always watch him carefully, even lustfully, sizing him up for reference later in the day.
They come in all shapes, colours and ages between about 9 and 19 or 20 and, to judge from their clothes, their backgrounds are as varied as their sizes and stages of development and maturity; some are jaunty, even _c_o_c_k_y, some are nervous, others seem to be close to tears. They are all joined by a common bond, even though they may never meet each other, in that each one of them has been sent down to the cells for the specific purpose of having his bare tail birched later in the day. As the officer in charge of the holding cells, it is my interesting and by no means unpleasant duty to wield the rods which will administer these thrashings, or 'floggings', as the regulations describe them.
From what I have said, you could easily conclude that I take a sadistic delight in beating mere children, but that is not the case. I will not deny that these operations give me a good deal of satisfac- tion, which is intensified by their relative rarity and by the variety of skills that have to be employed so as to ensure, for example, that while a slight, fair-skinned 10-year-old is not whipped to a degree out of proportion to his crime and his physical condition, a husky 17 or 18- year-old is not let off too lightly, merely because some soft-hearted Justice of the Peace has misguidedly sentenced him to six strokes instead of the dozen which his offence richly deserved and which would certainly have done his almost adult bottom no harm.
My first interest in each of the prospective candidates for a ride on our birching 'pony', is, of course, in his hindquarters, which, these days, are often very attractively contoured by the skin-tight denims or 'cords' which most boys favour, but which will, on this occasion, afford no protection for either his modesty or his hide, as, both by age-old custom and by regulation, all birchings are administered across the bare buttocks, irrespective of whether or not the culprit has been required to strip completely naked or merely to shed his lower garments to receive his flogging. I have found that the age group whose members most frequently find their way into my temporary custody, are the 11 to 14 year-olds, whose small, flat and often pre-adolescent rumps do not present nearly as attractive or rewarding targets for the hiss- ing, crashing strokes which will come their way, as do the far more mus- cular, rounded, larger and generally better developed cheeks of the 15 to 17 year-olds, who also seem to have difficulty in staying out of trouble and whose tails, when stripped and stretched out, well spread, over the 'pony', appear to invite the stinging kiss of the supple birch twigs and usually react to it in a very spectacular way, not- withstanding the manful efforts of their owners not to give in to the fire which is being progressively ignited all over their naked haunches.
It is, of course, impossible to pre-judge such matters as toughness of hide, mental resiliance or even sheer obstinate determination, by merely watching a still fully clothed and, probably, very resentful, boy, fresh from his dressing down in Court, furnishing the necessary particulars for 'the record' and still hours away from the moment of truth at which the consequences of his actions are to be brought home to him so painfully; there is often still a good deal of bravado present and it is a fascinating exercise to observe how this gradually ebbs and is replaced by an almost childlike dependance on the cell staff for everything, from water to moisten a suddenly dry mouth, to terrifying, but desperately desired, details of the impending ordeal. This constant switching and interplay of emotions, quite apart from the sheer physical satisfaction achieved from doing the job itself, is what makes this, quite minor, part of my work, by far the most rewarding and a source of unending speculation and amusement.
So, let us take the case of today's typical 16 or 17 year old offender, who has just been sentenced to his first flogging for 'mugg- ing' and is to receive 12 strokes, which would represent an extremely severe caning, but is, in my view, no more than a moderate birching, the fact being that, stroke for stroke, a birch rod, even one of the 'Manx' rather than the 'Etonian' variety, is far less painful or damaging to a bare bottom than a rattan or malacca cane would be.
A word, at this point, about the implements, themselves. Having had, at previous stations, some experience in wielding the cane, I can honestly say that the birch is a far more satisfactory and satisfying instrument with which to thrash convicted boys than its single-bladed counterpart. One of its great beauties is that, whereas one whipping with a specific cane tends to be very much like all others, no two birch rods possess precisely the same characteristics of balance, flexibility and penetration, so each presents its own challenges to the user and, in turn, to the boy being flogged; bearing in mind that any worthwhile birching of 8 strokes or more is certain to require the use of two rods, there is an ongoing element of variety and novelty about both giving and receiving a birching which is entirely absent from a caning sit- uation. It is also not generally known that birch rods are made according to two definite patterns. First, there is the 'Etonian', or "Public School' birch. a bundle of quite bushy and, sometimes, even leafy, birch twigs, which form a wide-ranging, but not at all damaging spray, with which to attack the naked buttocks of the errant schoolboys; it is quite conceivable that, using these implements, Masters could have administered the almost incredible number of 'cuts' recounted in 19th Century literature, such as Swinburne's "The Flogging Block'. Thec 'other' type of birch rod, which is the one used for 'judicial' purposes, is the 'Manx' birch and consists of a number, usually between 8 and 12, of slender birch branches, trimmed of all small twigs and leaves but not of the hard, green buds which contribute so much to the unique sensations of a birching. The selection and actual assembly of these is a skilled operation and is left to specialist firms, one of which delivers, at precisely 8 a. m. every Monday morning, a long, brown paper-wrapped package containing 10 fresh rods, to replace those which would either have dried out, or been worn out, during the previous week. On inspection, these rods are found to consist, in the main, of 3-foot to 3-foot-six-inch switches, forming the core of the rod, with a few more, all on the one side, some six to nine inches shorter. This ensures that the rod, when held with the 'loaded' side out, will lash both of the convicted boy's buttocks from flank to flank and, at the same time, be able to find its way into the tender crevice between his cheeks, where the finely-budded shorter twigs will leave a sting and burn which many lads claim to be the most enduring memory of their floggings. Unfortunately, the very suppleness and fragility of the twigs causes them to fray and disintegrate quite rapidly from their repeated contact with tightly braced and firm young flesh, with the result that even the most well-made rod becomes ineffective after about 6 or 7 strokes and the litter of scraps of birch all over the punish- ment area conveys an atmosphere of savage brutality which is totally un- justified by the actual severity of the whippings being administered.
An interesting sideline, gleaned from many lads who have been flogged in these cells, is that, in spite of its construction, the effect of the birch on naked haunches does not correspond to a multiple caning, but has a character all its own, in which a progressive heat and all-pervas- ive sting builds up which has little of the deep, biting quality of a sound caning, but corresponds, according to most of the lads, to 'get- ting yer bum roasted on a stove'. The effect on bare skin is also dif- ferent, in that, whereas a really hard cane stroke will split the skin cleanly, the birch progressively wears it through, resulting in a super- ficially flayed, rather than a badly cut, backside which, perhaps due to some ingredient of birch sap, usually heals, without a trace, although with some almost intolerable itching, in a few weeks.
TO revert to today's flogging, the boy, a strongly built, long-haired and flashily-dressed young thug, was full of cheek and smart-mouthed answers when he first came down to the cells. His details were recorded quietly and without comment and his attempts at riling the Constable at the desk were politely ignored.
His first nasty surprise was the realisation that he was not to be punished immediately, but late this afternoon only and the second was the unavoidable sight of the 'pony', surrounded by several tall cans of liquid, each containing a number of bound bundles of twigs, whose purpose was obvious.
He was then locked in a holding cell and left entirely to his own devices and thoughts; water, when asked for, was given immediately, without discussion and when, eventually, the sheer lonliness and anxiety took their toll and the questions began, these were answered pleasantly, without exaggeration or 'teasing', but so as to still leave him in suspense as far as possible.
A noticable change in his demeanour became apparent, though, once the abstracts with which he had been dealing, became concrete, personal obstacles before him; HE was to have to remove his trousers, submit to an examination by a doctor and then position HIS naked, or at least, half naked body on the 'pony' for the execution of his sentence. One or more of those suddenly formidable bundles of sticks would be applied, hard and repeatedly to HIS bare tail and HIS agony would be witnessed and heard by a number of strangers. The arrogant, intractable young man had suddenly reverted to a nervous, compliant little boy, anxious to please and to be and stay in the good books of the group of men who would exercise so much control over his life during the next few hours.
It is safe to say that, by the time the clock had arrived at 15h50, the child, for that was what he had become, had already undergone a long-drawn-out and quite severe punishment in the form of an agony of antic- ipation of the unkown and unavoidable and that the instruction to visit the toilet would have come as a welcome relief, even though it brought the dreaded moment that much closer.
I watched with great interest to see if there was any attempt at baragining for some sort of 'let-off' and my trained and sensitive nose was on the alert for any traces of ethyl alcohol or a topical anaesthetic, as some misguided lads occasionally attempt to annoint their bottoms in that way, so as to minimise the pain of their birchings; they are always thwarted by my delaying their floggings for long enough to allow the effects of the volatile liquids to evaporate and by adding to their humilation by making them strip completely naked for their hidings instead of merely shedding their lower garments. This boy, however, was a straightforward young hooligan and, having presumably relieved himself, he entered the middle room hesitantly and nervously, as he had no doubt realised that his time had come.
At a signal from one of the constables, with whom he seemed to have formed a bond, he hunkered down on the floor, removed his boots and socks, pulled his trousers and underpants down, stepped out of them and, blushing furiously, padded on his bare feet, naked from the waist down, over to the small table at which the doctor who routinely supervised these events, was sitting for the purpose of carrying out the prescribed physical examination.
This always takes the form of a routine check on pulse and heartbeat, which would obviously be on the fast side and a quick 'listen-in' to usually strong young lungs, just to make sure that the lad is unlikely to go into respiratory arrest while being flogged; then follows what is, for many boys, the worst part of the entire punishment, when the doctor gently and impersonally cups a naked, dangling scrotum in the palm of his hand and asks its owner to 'cough'. This check for rupture or a hernia is necessary as, if present, these could become strangulated while the boy is writhing under the rod and cause him serious internal injury. Their presence would thus be almost his last chance of a reprieve from his thrashing.
The next phase of the examination was an apparently cursory glance at his bare backside, its purpose being to see if there were any sores or ulcers present, which could be ripped open by the birch and, perhaps, lead to deep muscular injury, or even infection which could affect his health. So, you see, we are not completely callous or uncaring, but do consider the welfare of these young miscreants to SOME extent.
Having passed all stages of this 'physical', our young 'rider', by then red-faced with embarrassment and fully erect, had reached his moment critique, and was facing the 'pony' and awaiting instructions as to how to mount it and what to do next. By then he, like most boys, seemed to be completely resigned and simply to want to 'get it over' as quickly as possible AND I, for MY part, co-operateD by not drawing the agony out any more than was absolutely necessary.
The 'Pony' may seem to be a simple, padded, vinyl-covered trestle, but it is actually custom made and carefully designed for the specific pur- pose of securing boys of all ages and sizes firmly, but as comfortably as possible under the circumstances, in the most suitable position for birching their bare bottoms, which is slightly different from what would be required for a caning. It stands about three feet high and has four sturdy legs, which support an inclined, half-cylindrical wooden beam, the top section of which can slide in and out of the rest to a length of about 18 inches, to cope with the longer torsos of the older boys, whil;e the lower end is concave on both sides, to cradle the 'rider's' thighs, parting them enough to spread his buttocks fairly widely, but not so far as to hurt the smaller boys who most frequently find themselves mounted on it. That that position does, however, certainly ensure that they are exposed to a good deal of 'hurt' of a different sort, but that is not the fault of the apparatus, is it?
As mentioned, most of the lads who find themselves 'riding' our pony, are youngsters in the 10 to 12 age group, which is notoriously the age at which boys are at their naughtiest. It is great fun applying the birch vigorously to the small, naked posteriors offered up for chas- tisement in this way, seeing them redden and hearing their young owners' shrill, treble howls of protest and pleas for mercy, as the initial, quite bearable, sting is overtaken by blazing heat and the little, immature cheeks lose their identity and become nothing more than two globes of floating fire, which seem to drift around, sending flashes of savage, but unidentifiable agony to the waiting nerve centres and making slim, bare lower legs and feet kick and flail as far as they can within the constraints of the leather straps which secure them just above the knees to the rear legs of the pony; I do not believe, though, that any of us take THESE 'floggings' very seriously. They are certainly painful and probably quite memorable thrashings, as far as the recipients are concerned, but blood is almost never drawn from such young bottoms and the thin, smarting red ridges, which are the trademark of the birch, having blended into a single, hard, swollen band of whipped flesh, extending over virtually the whole of both buttocks and well into the tender cleft between them, soon resorb, so that many younger boys, who leave the cells convinced that they will never be able to sit down in comfort again, often wake up the next morning, after a surprisingly good night's sleep, to find that their tails have returned to normal size, the welts have flattened out and the blinding sting of the previous day has given way to a hot, but by no means altogether unpleasant, throbbing glow.
Perhaps it is because of the very transient nature of the effects of a birching on the very young, for whom even the most callous of us will always feel some sympathy, that I, like Cowper, must confess that "for years, my chief delight has been to scourge the obnoxious stripling of sixteen" and so will it be today, with my young thug on the point of mounting the pony and moving into a new, for him, dimension of both humiliation and pain, which will, I hope, help to mould his character without warping his outlook or too seriously damaging his young body.
This boy, like many others, is fully erect from his 'physical' and is both embarrassed by his state and unsure of how to accommodate his unruly member while mounting the pony. I quietly draw his attention to the long indentation in the surface of the beam, which has been put there specifically to provide a retreat for rigid and sensitive young flesh, while not interfering with the correct placement of the other side of the body, which is, after all, the more important area at that moment. He catches on immediately and, for the first time, I see a flash of real fear in his eyes as, without further hesitation, performs a sort of leapfrog jump which lands im astride the beam and enables him to wriggle downwards until his equipment fits fairly snugly into the groove and he can lie forward along the pony's 'back' without crushing it.
This is the moment I've been waiting for. Before me, mounted at a per- fect height and angle, is the half-naked and very presentable body of a late-teenaged boy, not merely inviting, but actually demanding, that I should thrash its bare bottom severely, with no constraints at all, save as to the number of strokes, on the amount of damage I do or the level of pain which I inflict.
I have no real interest in hurting the child and, certainly, no sadistic desire to injure him, but duty is duty and this young man is in his present position through his own fault and has been duly and lawfully sentenced by his betters and mine, to undergo the whipping which is about to be laid across his naked hindquarters, so who am I to interfere with the course of justice by using my discretion to moderate his punishment in any way? So it is with a completely clear conscience that I lay the long, supple and dripping wet tines of the birch rod which I have selected, gently, almost caressingly on the smooth bare cheeks of the round, firm tail which is laid out before me. The width of the pony's 'back' has ensured that the sturdy young thighs are parted so as to spread those cheeks enough to expose their entire inner surfaces right down to the small, puckered, brownish-pink anus, the distended perineum and the back of the well-filled, dangling scrotum. One of the great advantages of flogging a boy with the birch, rather than thrashing his backside with a cane, is that whereas, if one wishes to address those particularly sensitive areas with the latter, the strokes must be deliberately aimed almost vertically and at the inside of the exposed 'crack', which implies a level of malice to which I, for one, could never descend, while, when employing a birch rod with anything like the force which I am duty bound to use, the unequal length of its component twigs ensure maximum coverage of the broad, fleshy surfaces of both bare haunches as also the penetration, by at least some of the shorter branches, far round into that exquisitely sensitive canyon between the buttocks, where the impact of the fast-moving tips of the supple, budded wands causes a level of agony out of all proportion to the actual force of the stroke and its effect on the rest of the beaten area. It also requires no more than a modicum of skill to so place and angle a few of the ensuing strokes so that they land low down across the by then very red and tightly clenched buttocks, in the notorious 'crease' area, where the thin sticks lap around the tops of bare legs, searching out the softest spots between them and stinging, without really hurting or damaging, the no longer dangling, but well retracted, scrotum and drawing unfeigned gasps of agony from the lad, who has just discovered that there is, perhaps, more to a birching than just simply getting a few stripes across his bottom.
Today's young thug is in for a round dozen, which will ensure him of an extremely hot, smarting, painfully ridged and, let us admit it, slight- ly bloody rump to nurse for the rest of the day. Once his thrashing is over, and any other young delinquents have been similarly dealt with, which does not apply today, the attendant doctor will apply first aid to his painful rear end, using mild antiseptics which, however, often pro-voke more spectacular reactions from the chastised boy than did the act- ual infliction of the strokes that had done the damage; here one has to contend with the re-irritation of recently whipped skin and almost raw flesh, whose nerves had only just settled down from the initial shock of being lashed. AS in the case of any other relapse, the pain of this after-shock is often more acute than was the original.
Part of the art of successful birching is to apply the first few strokes where they will cause the greatest immediate discomfort without numbing the whole target area and to this end, I direct the rod initially to the crest of both buttocks, allowing it to land well round on the outer curve of the left one, so that the supple twigs can do their own work by curling freely round that cheek, bridging the cleavage and then con- tinuing to bite stingingly into the entire surface of the right buttock, the budded tips of the longer switches raking its outer curve, while a few of the shorter ones perform the same, but far more painful, service to the inside curve of the left one. In this way, the uniquely sting- ing burn of a birching is made to build up from the very first stroke, which is then repeated, a handsbreadth higher and lower, so that, by the third cut, the boy's entire right buttock has been uniformly thrashed and is causing him some serious pain. THe next three strokes, delivered alternately high and low down in the crease, ensure that the right cheek has been comprehensively whipped and that the left one, already reddened and striped by the body of the rod, is sufficiently tenderised to feel the full effect of the tips of the fresh twigs which are about to be applied to it.
I lay all the strokes on hard and with enough 'dwell' to ensure that the full spray of the nine twigs which make up these particular rods, remains in contact with the naked tail for long enough to bite into the flesh, but without the 'drawing', slashing downwards pull which would, if I so desired, peel a broad strip of skin off both buttocks at each 'cut'. The result is that every stroke produces a wide, slightly fan-shaped band of thin, bright red and rock hard weals, which seem to erupt out of the quivering muscles as the rod is lifted for the next stroke. There can be no question of avoiding overlapping welts, as one tries to do in the case of a caning and by the time three or four strokes have been administered from each side, my victim's tail is literally covered, from hip to thigh, with the painful, burning evidence of his punishment.
As in the case of all floggings of six strokes or more, I administer this one in equal doses, from both sides of the lad's rump. His pos- ition on t6he pony is sufficiently close to horizontal to enable me to bring the rod down almost vertically, whenn flogging him from the right, the only difference being that I can no longer target his crease area with any accuracy and, accordingly, give more attention to the tops of his cheeks, where they merge into his back and where the lack of 'padding'leaves nerve ends far more exposed and vulnerable than is generally realised, ensuring that the entire flogging is rounded off with a truly flaming belt of whipped flesh, which will respond, irritably, for days, if not weeks, whenever a belt or even a draw- string, necessary to support a pair of trousers, is fastened around it.
This boy, as becomes a tough 17-year-old, is taking his punishment with the minimum of noise or movement. The design of the pony is such that he is unable to move his hindquarters out of the path of the birch, or even to buck or squirm to any extent, so his naked cheeks are obliged to suffer their quota of strokes without interference, but I have to admit that he is a brave youngster, who fights back the howls which the re- peated impact of rod on bare flesh usually elicits by the third or fourth cut, until after the first of his 'second' half has landed and his already battered left cheek gets its first taste of the tips of the new rod which I have substituted for the somewhat delapidated and frayed original. In fact, a good deal of the efficacy of a birch- ing of more than six strokes is derived from the use of a second, fresh rod with which to attack a tail which is already tenderised and is usually unprepared for either the greater sensitivity of the left cheek or the increased bite of the virgin twigs into usually not directly whipped skin.
By the time I eventually rest from my labours, I have before me a spec- tacularly reddened, ridged and partially flayed pair of bare buttocks, forming an apparently independantly clenching and writhing part of the temporarily defeated body of the young male who has been the latest to discover that a 'Judicial' birching is not something to be taken lightly; he has coped with the physical side of the punishment bravely and well, but will find that he still has to deal with the emotional impact of realising that, for some fifteen to thirty minutes, his virtually naked body was removed entire- ly from his control; that it was secured in an extremely revealing and embarrassing position and was then beaten in the most humiliating way, in full view of a number of spectators, all of whom were privy to his agony and his involuntary reactions to it and that he will, for years, if not for life, have to conceal, or explain away, the few thin, white scars which will probably decorate both sides of his powerful and formerly flawless bottom. These will certainly be less obvious and easier to hide than the scars of the 'cat' on a flogged back would be, but are, nevertheless, something to bear constantly in mind, particularly if naked _s_e_x_ual encounters with new partners are in the offing.
So it is with a twinge of regret that I replace my stock of birch rods in their cupboard and return the pony to its place in the corner, to patiently await the arrival of the next young tearaway, whose naked loins will rest on its cool, padded surface while their bare upper curves absorb the biting sting of birchen twigs, turning yet another pair of tough, immature bottom cheeks into two mounds of blazing, smarting. semi-raw meat. I cannot deny that I derive a good deal of satisfaction from administering this sort of practical justice, but yet..... every time that another youngster painfully lifts his just flogged backside off the pony, I do wonder, albeit briefly, if we are not STILL nothing more than barbarians, visiting that sort of violence on the naked bodies of our own young; does it really achieve its object? Considering how many boys have felt the birch on their bare rumps since time immemorial, can it be said that any of those floggings acted as a deterrent, or that the bruised and torn hides of earlier generations have in any way improved the conduct of those that followed? I think not, but far be it from me to deny the counter proposition, that there is really no viable alternative, when dealing with wayward boys, to a sound thrashing, that, stroke for stroke, the birch is probably the most humane of those instruments which can be expected to make any impression on sturdy, teenaged bottoms and that it is, in the final reckoning, by far the most fun to use, both because of the manner in which the victim is made to present himself for chastisement and because of the highly spectacular results of the ensuing ministrations to his always naked hindquarters.
All in all, a very good afternoon's work, which will assure me of a pleasant evening with sweet, fulfilled dreams and, I am sure, will not cause my erstwhile victim much loss of sleep, once he has succumbed to the almost inevitable genital pressure caused by a well thrashed tail, has relieved it manually and has found a comfortable position, probably flat on his stomach, with bare, still glowing haunches uncovered and exposed to the cool night air and has drifted off into a slumber which, if not dreanmless, should, at least, bring him the absolution of a deserved punishment, well borne and behind him in every sense of the word.