This is the fourth story in "The College Years" series about the corporal punishment regime endured by a university student - me, Martin, living in an elite, men only residential college, which has strict rules. At the end of the last story I was in my college room evaluating the state of my wardrobe - I had been given an ultimatum about tidying up my appearance or face some pretty harsh thrashings.
As I stood before my wardrobe I was all too aware of the throbbing pain in my backside. I'd only just had the most harsh thrashing in a week of regular beatings . I really didn't want to face ever more severe canings if I could avoid it - and yet I wanted to be accepted into the college elite group.
I couldn't think where to begin, when someone knocked on my door.
"Martin, stop moping in there and get out here !" yelled an urgent voice - it was Simon Phillips - one of the guys who was beaten with me on our second day on campus.
We'd become friends because of our shared experiences at the wrong end of Johnstone's cane, but also because had both been to The Grammar School - and so felt a sort of brotherly kinship (even though we hardly knew each other at school).
"What is it Philly?" I yelled - not really wanting to get sucked into some juvenile (but fun) horseplay in the common room (typically that's what Phillips wanted, and at this stage I wasn't sure my butt could take it !).
"They're posting the Rugby squad - I thought you might like to have a look" he yelled back. That got my attention. I was very keen to get onto the Rugby squad, and really hoped to be able to get heavily involved In the college sports teams. So I went and opened the door onto the face of an impatient and excited looking Phillips.
"Ok , Ok " I said, "Let's go".
He grinned at me and bounded down the hall, towards the sports notice board. I tried to walk calmly without drawing attention to the pain I was in, while acknowledging that I wasn't quite up to bounding !
We reached the board and we quickly scanned the list. We were both on it !!!
"Yes !!!" we both cheered, and gave each other a high-five (a tradition of our class at our former school).
"Well done lads" said the captain of Sports - Arnie Jones. "You won't need to report to the regular warm-up tomorrow morning - instead your mentors will take you to the sports warm-ups, which are tougher !"
Philly and I looked at each other. The regular warm-ups were hard enough, and the whacks you got sure hurt like hell, so we were both feeling a bit intimidated about graduating to a harsher regime so soon. Still - if that's what it took to be a college sports man - then that's what I'd have to do.
With this good news - we wanted to go out and celebrate, but we both were on College Restriction, and so couldn't leave the college grounds over the weekend. So we decided that now that we were "sportsmen" we should go and put ourselves through a work out in the college weights room. It would help us work off our surplus energy - without breaking the rules (and so getting our butts whacked again !)
So we headed up to our rooms. I quickly pulled out my work-out kit from the mess at the bottom of my cupboard and slipped into the gear. I was feeling a bit guilty (particularly whenever I felt the sharp pain in my butt to remind me of the punishment I had endured only an hour before) that I should be sorting my stuff out for Tuesday inspection - but I reckoned I had plenty of time, besides I was bored and could do with a hard work-out.
I met Philly on the stairs and we headed down to the gym. We walked into the main weights area, and were surprised to see a group of mentors working out. Mr Ferguson, my mentor, was among them.
They were in tight fitting work-out gear, and were sweating freely. They were all impressively well muscled - and made quite an intimidating sight. They all looked up as we walked in.
"Well lookie here !" Mr Ferguson sneered " a couple of little boys want to come play in the big pool"
They all laughed.
"Look we were just looking to work-out ..." I said, my voice trailing off as Mr Ferguson leapt up and stomped towards me.
He grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me close to his face, before yelling at me "ARE YOU BACK CHATTING ME ?"
"Umm, No sir .... " I murmured
"What do you guys think ? he said, turning to ask his fellow seniors.
"He sure was - you should whip his butt" was the general response from the mentors. I was getting nervous, I didn't think I could take it.
"You're right - I should" said Mr Ferguson, returning his gaze to me, "but I have a better idea ... these two clowns have been accepted into the Rugby squad , so I think we've got our two tackle dummies for tomorrow's practice!"
"Great idea !" they all chimed back. I glanced at Philly quickly, wondering what I'd gotten myself into. Mr Ferguson let go of me and gave me a quick swat on the butt, before returning to the weights machines.
He said "Look work out if you want girls - you'll need to be in good shape for tomorrow! We can help you along if we think you're slacking". He flashed us an evil-looking grin and then all the seniors resumed their session.
Philly and I went over to the warm-up area, and stretched for a few minutes. We then each went over to the weights machines and started into it. Every now and then one of the older guys would pass by to get a drink of water, or to get something. They each made a point of saying we weren't working hard enough or lifting heavy enough weights. If one of us were on a machine where your backside was exposed, he'd get a few swats (not especially hard) from the "incentive" paddle which was hanging on the wall of the gym. They were just playing with us - tormenting us, not seriously trying to punish us - apparently that was to come tomorrow. After about half an hour they finished up and left. My butt had been given a good whacking by then and I was glad to see them go. All the fire from my previous canings was back at full intensity.
With the gym to ourselves Philly and I got stuck into a comprehensive work-out - but working on the machines the senior guys had been using. We had some cool music on and were soon sweating heavily. It really helped to take my attention away from the pain in my bum. I was soon feeling really energised . So after a good hours work-out , I suggested to Philly that we should have a few games of one on one basketball.
Soon dusk was falling, so we went inside to join our college mates for dinner . I was feeling sweaty and tired after our game, so headed upstairs for a quick shower and a change of clothes. I felt a lot better after standing under hot water for a few minutes ! I took the chance to check out the state of my backside - which sported deep red weals across its width. It still hurt to just touch them. The work-out had made me feel much better though. So I was in a much better mood as I pulled on a comfortable pair of chinos and a polo shirt, and I headed downstairs to join the others for dinner.
Philly had decided to stay down there and go into dinner in his work-out gear. He had a quick beer the college bar with some other friends, and I noticed him way ahead of me in the queue for food.
We all go served eventually, and Philly saved me a seat beside him, so I joined his group. We had an enjoyable conversation , laughing and joking like any normal group of 19 year old guys - for a while I could almost forget where I was ! The illusion soon came to an end when our conversation tailed off as someone chimed a gong, and Johnstone stood at the head table to speak .
"Gentleman - welcome to week two of your probation. If you think we were strict last week ... then boy have we got a surprise for you ! This week some rules change. All "college restriction" is now over - you are all on your honour to obey our rules - any breaches of the code of etiquette and your backsides will pay."
I looked over at Philly - at last we could party again !!!!
Johnstone continued " Now, another rule change is in relation to your training regime. You should all check the sports notice board after this to see if you've been selected for the rugby squad. Those selected for Rugby will start a new sports training regime each morning, as well as playing commitments on the weekend. All the Rugby guys need to report to the junior lounge at 8:30 tonight to be briefed. If your not there - you'll be caned. Anyone not in the Rugby squad needs to be in here at 8:30 for consultation with your mentor about what sport you'll train for. Again miss it, and you're backside will suffer."
I looked around the room at the looks on the guys' faces - some looked pleased, others looked terrified . I was pretty happy. Johnstone then continued : "Now, speaking of backsides suffering .. " he now had everyone's attention, as there wasn't a guy in the room who hadn't been beaten in the last few days, "... a few of you obviously haven't read the etiquette notice on the board ..."
I was puzzled by this, and a little worried - I didn't want to be caned , again !
He continued saying, " ... that says you must NOT come into dinner in sports gear. You have to be dressed in smart casual. No everyone in sports gear stand !"
About 6 guys stood up. All were in sweat stained, tatty sports clothes. Of course my mate Philly was among them. The room was completely silent. Johnstone continued "now each of these clowns will receive 8 strokes of the cane right here, and right now!"
I looked across at Philly and he looked more than a little worried. He was wearing a really old, grotty pair of shorts that would offer no protection from the cane. I had a lot of sympathy for the poor guy - it could have so easily have been me facing this public caning too ! I gave thanks for that shower.
Johnstone had produced his cane from under the head table and was stalking around the room, swinging it experimentally - judging who was to go first. He noticed Philly and headed towards our table - pointing the cane out in front of him.
"Phillips !!!" he hollered "you get the honour of going first - stretch yourself over that table". Philly signed deeply and moved to bend over our table. I couldn't believe he was going to get it right in front of us - right beside me !
I couldn't look away as poor Philly stretched over the table. I saw his butt in perfect profile. I was uncomfortable at being so close to the "impact point" so I pulled my chair back a little to give a bit more room. I also got better view of his shorts thinly stretched over his muscular bum.
He had been caned in that first session in the basement - he'd taken that well, but was wearing good quality jeans and underwear. Despite all the canings I'd received , I hadn't actually seen anyone else get it, since then. I was actually looking forward to seeing Simon get it - despite my sympathy for his predicament.
Johnstone took up position on the opposite side of Phillips, and swung the cane back. I was close enough to feel the "whoosh" though the air at the cane WHACKED into Philly's backside. He grunted in pain, as his butt quivered from the impact.
Soon the second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth had whacked into him, Poor Simon was yelping at each stroke. Clearly this was really hurting. I was feeling quite excited at the sight, and could feel a stirring in my chinos . I guess it was the combination of the extra energy and vigour I had after our work-out, plus the ever present pain in my own butt that was making me feel so excited by seeing Philly take his strokes.
Johnstone had pulled back for the seventh, and WHACKED it into Simon who jerked up in surprise at the pain. Johnstone must have put some more wrist flick into the stroke.
"Stay down" he murmured , as he drew back for one more and WHACKED it into my mate.
Philly stayed lying over the table. I pulled my chair in closer, and could tell he was breathing hard, and fighting back tears. Johnstone had walked over to another table and was pointing at another guy, who was stretching himself out. Johnstone yelled back over at our table "Stay right where you are Phillips - I want you to remain bent over !"
"Oh no" groaned Philly as we all turned to watch another tightly stretched backside receive 8 of the best. That guy - Wilson, took it pretty quietly, and he too was told to stay down.
It was really distracting for me to have such a great view of Philip's backside. I admired it as he subtly tried to shift his position to relieve some pain. I really hoped my own butt looked half as well defined when I bent over . Johnstone continued to beat the guys. Every now and there one would yelp, but most of us were already fairly hardened to beatings.
Finally, Johnstone had "done" everyone . He turned to the room and said "I hope you all remember this. For the next two weeks after every dinner, we will have a beating session like this for any guy who breaches etiquette - other canings will occur in the basement as currently. You are all still liable to be beaten by your mentor with his swagger cane." At that he grinned at the room and continued " you will all have a very sore backside over the next two weeks !"
There were a few nervous titters at this joke. None from the guys who'd just taken 8 of the best, though. Johnstone paced up and down and said " Aright, you guys who are bent over may now stand". I watched Philly's butt as he slowly straightened as the shorts bunched around his thigh. He stood still a Johnstone continued "Now, starting with Phillips, in the order I beat you I want you to walk out of this room and go and get changed into appropriate clothes . You will all be back in five minutes or suffer more strokes - everyone else clap them out".
Johnstone started a rhythmic clapping. We all joined in. Philly turned slowly and trudged out of the room, followed by the other guys. The whole room was quite for a moment before we all started talking at once - everyone was thinking of one subject - the new rules, and the canings we'd all just witnessed.
A few minutes later, Philly came rushing into the room wearing neat casual clothes. The other guys weren't far behind. "That's better!" boomed Johnstone , as they stood awkwardly by the door, "now it's almost time for the sports sessions to begin, so you all have 10 minutes to check out whether you are in the Rugby squad or not and report to the right place" At that everyone leapt up and headed out of the room. I caught up with Philly and asked him how he was doing.
"Thanks for warning me Martin !" he growled - clearly angry at me.
"But I didn't know about the new rules mate" I protested, "it was a sure fluke that I went and got changed"
"Yeah sure" he said "don't mess me around".
I grabbed his arm, stopping his progress. "Look, what can I do to prove to you that I didn't know !"
He looked at me, a grin slowly spreading over his face "I don't know, but I'll think about it".
I laughed and punched him in the arm "I'll be you will - and I'll bet whatever it is will really hurt me too !"
I was glad we'd cleared the air - even though Philly clearly wasn't going to concede that he believed me. I was going to have to suffer his revenge on my backside .
So we headed into the junior lounge to wait for our meeting. The room slowly filled up with all the sporty guys . There was a noticeable energy in the room, as none of the more studious guys were there ! We all joked around, and Philly took a fair bit of ribbing for his caning.
We all quietened down when Arnie Jones - the sports captain, and the senior sports mentors walked into the room. Mr Ferguson was there, as were most of the other tough senior guys.
Arnie just said " All of you stand".
We all jumped out of our seats and stood to attention.
"Raise your right hand" barked the captain , looking down at a folder "and repeat after me: "I swear in the name of the college that I accept ...."
Slowly we repeated his words.
"... the honour of representing this college in team sports. I will give of my best, and pledge never to let down my team-mates if I can avoid it .. "
We continued to pledge.
"... I acknowledge that I will incur physical penalties if I break this oath. If I let my team down more than three times in a season, I will be expelled from all college sports throughout this university".
Once we had finished echoing his words. He told us to sit and talked us through the proposed field placements we were each to take. I was to be a Centre Forward, while Philly was to be a Front Row Forward. I didn't argue with this placement - it was where I played at school. A few guys questioned their places, and a lively discussion ensured.
Finally Arnie resolved the tensions so everyone was fairly happy. He then spoke to the whole group: "Ok, in this Rugby squad we will all be on first name or nickname terms with none of the servile, saluting crap that Johnstone is into. This rule only applies during Rugby squad time - otherwise we will treat you like any other probs, and you must show us due deference."
We all nodded in approval at this. We already felt closer to being normal people.
Arnie continued "Now discipline is very simple. If you are immature and stupid at training, or petulant , or rude to the umpire , or deliberately attack another player during a game - you'll be beaten by the coach in the locker-room. He uses a nasty great paddle. You get whacked on you shorts. Actually he'll beat anyone in the squad who screws up, including me."
"Now if you breach your oath , and miss a practice or game without giving notice, or are deemed to have let your mates down, that is more serious. In that case I will discipline you in college, using the sports cane - it's a nasty stinger guys. If I have to cane you more than three times in a season - you'll be expelled from sports and from this college."
"OK that's it guys. Report to the sports field at 6:30 in the morning for your first training. We're playing our old enemy , St Stephen's College, this weekend. We want to front three teams against them - now this is just a warm-up for the actual competition, but our college pride is at stake, so we need you all fit and up to speed."
At that we broke up. Some of us stayed in the lounge for 20 minutes or so, chatting to the senior team members. I got the chance to get to know Mr Ferguson - or rather "Fergo" as he was known in the team, better. It was nice to be able to talk to him like a human being, outside the regular formality of the College rules. He suggested that I take the nickname "Marty" - an idea I accepted.
Soon though, the party broke up and I made my way up to my room. I pulled out some training gear, and had it ready to change into, I set my alarm and got into bed and fell into a deep sleep. The next day was going to be very busy. Unfortunately - I'd completely forgotten about the wardrobe check I was to have only 48 hours later. However, I'll come to that as the story progresses.
.... to be continued.