This is the fifth 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 had just gone to sleep after a long, painful day - with the promise of my first Rugby training session starting first thing in the morning.
My alarm work me with a start at 5:30. I sat up with a groan. My butt was still sore , and I winced as I eased out of bed. I quickly jumped in the shower, before pulling on the training gear I'd left out, and was soon out the door. I bumped into my mate Simon Phillips walking towards the stairs and yawning - we both could do with several more hours sleep !
We murmured "morning" to each other as we made our way down the stairs and out the door towards the practice field. A few other guys were also making there way towards the field. Soon a small group of us, all new guys, were shivering in the crisp morning air. Gradually the senior players appeared and finally the Coach - armed with a number of footballs.
"Alright guys" called the Coach. "You know what's expected - train hard and play hard and you'll have no problems with me - screw around and you'll be sorry. Now let's start the warm-up".
We were then put through a tough warm-up. I was soon sweating and breathing hard. It felt good to be pushing my muscles to the limits. Finally Coach sent us to run ten laps of the sports oval.
As we all ran back towards the Coach he asked us to break into squads, and we'd begin skills practice. Arnie our Captain, started splitting us up. Both Philly and I were put in a squad with my senior mentor, Fergo as well as a couple of the guys who were working out with him the day before.
Soon we were running back and forth, practising our ball passing skills. We then moved to tackle practice. Fergo and his mates took that opportunity to tackle me pretty hard, whenever they got he chance. Repeatedly I was thrown into the ground heavily, and they took their chance to grab me by the nuts as we tumbled to the ground, and usually slapped my butt as I tried to get up. I was the only guy they did this to. It began to annoy me, and I started to push an shove back when they messed around. After a couple of heated exchanges the Coach called Fergo and me over to him.
"What's wrong with you two ?" he demanded of us.
"Nothing" we murmured together. I didn't expect Fergo to be so quiet in front of Coach.
"Keep this stuffing around up, and you'll both feel the paddle" growled the Coach, wagging his finger at us, "now go back and play like good boys."
"Yes sir" we both said, and jogged back over to our squad.
We practised passing and ball play some more, and Fergo and I steered clear of each other - neither of us wanted the humiliation of being the first to be paddled this season.
The Coach and Captain then called us back as a whole squad. The last part of training was what Coach called "scrum practice" - it was where we practised tactical plays that lead to scoring Trys and Goals. The Coach pulled out the "senior scrum" players - including Fergo, and asked for volunteers to be the competing scrum.
Fergo called out quickly - "I know Marty here wants to volunteer"
Everyone looked at me. I turned red with embarrassment , and the Coach demanded "Well, do you ?"
Fergo laughed and said "Don't mind him Coach, he's just shy" . Everyone laughed at that.
So I stepped forward and said "Ok, Ok, I'm in". Somehow I felt I was walking into a trap.
Soon the whole squad was selected, and we started the scrum practice. Coach drilled us in a number of moves. Non scrum members were being drilled in passing the ball in set moves away from the scrum. It was tough practice.
I one move I was thrown the ball after the scrum and found myself facing down Fergo and two of his mates. They crunched me into the ground with unnecessary severity. By this point the adrenaline was coursing through my veins so I wasn't acting rationally, and, to be fair, neither was he.
So I tried to shove them off me , as I lay face down in the ground. The moved slowly. I shoved Fergo hard once he let me up. Her pushed back and soon we were trading blows. I felt arms grab my shoulder and pull me away from the fight. It was the Coach. Arnie the captain was likewise restraining Fergo.
The Coach didn't look happy. "Get these two into the changing room to cool off - I will not have fighting at training. Everyone follow me" he barked.
The whole squad walked towards the changing shed. I was being held by the collar by one of the other seniors who murmured "You're for it now". I looked over at my friend Philly who seemed amused by the whole thing - he was looking forward to this !
Both Fergo and I were man handled into the locker room and made to stand on one side of the central bench each, and told to stand still with our hands on our heads. There was excited chatter as the rest of the squad made their way in, and saw us standing there. They could sense someone was about to be paddled, and they all knew it wasn't them ! I had had locker room beatings before, and knew how tough they could be so wasn't looking forward to this. I glanced across at Fergo who looked really worried, and I didn't find that comforting!
Soon a path was opened in the group of players as the Coach entered holding a huge fraternity paddle. I gulped at the thought of it hitting my backside - which suddenly felt very small and vulnerable.
Coach stood in front of us and said " You were all warned by Arnie that I paddle anyone, and I mean anyone who doesn't take training or playing seriously. Now you two clowns obviously have some sort of personal grudge - fine, I don't care - settle it outside in your own time, on my time you WILL play and train like team-mates or you won't play at all. I won't warn you again. Is that Clear ?"
"It's clear sir" said Fergo and I, in unison.
"Ok Ferguson - you are supposed to be a senior, and should know better. I'll paddle you first, so get into position, you'll take 10".
With a sigh Fergo turned and straddled the bench, leaning over so that his chin was resting on the seat, which pointed his butt out provocatively - almost begging for it to be hit. He grabbed the legs of the seat. He training shorts didn't seem to offer much protection, stretched across his backside.
The Coach had turned away from him, and stepped back. He turned around and took aim at his target. The whole team was watching in total silence. Coach asked "Ready Ferguson?"
"Yes Coach" was the meek reply.
"Good, then count" as he swung the paddle . WHACK !! it impacted Fergo's butt, he jerked forward in pain, and croaked. "One" . WHACK !! "Two". And so it continued , three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and finally ten. Fergo's voice was wavering with pain at the end.
He stood slowly and wiped tears from his eyes as he turned to face his team mates, and said " I'm sorry to my squad mates and I'm sorry to my coach and I'm sorry to the College for disrupting our training". Coach patted him on the back and Fergo returned to standing with his hands on his head, facing the group. Clearly this was part of the ritual.
Coach turned to me and said "That's how to do it Martin, now take position - you will also take 10, for although you are new, you too should have known better." I had hoped I would get less for being new - sadly it was not to be.
I straddled the bench and leant forward until my chin touched the seat, and I grabbed the legs. This was a very uncomfortable position. I could feel the tightness of the fabric of my shorts, stretched across my butt.
I heard Coach ask " Ready Martin ?"
I replied "yes sir" and he said "good , then count". I then tensed, awaiting the first blow. I heard the whoosh before hearing and feeling WHACK as the paddle crashed into my butt. It burned pain deep into my backside - Yeouch it hurt, but not as badly as I thought it would.
I called out "One" in a clear voice. WHACK the second came, and it also was bearable. Three, four, five, six, seven, eight - all were bearable, I called each number out clearly. I was surprised a big tough guy like Fergo had taken this so badly.
The ninth came WHACK. "Nine " I sang out. I was almost enjoying this. Then WHACK, the hardest one yet "Ten" ... I had done it !
I stood quickly, and must have had a slight smile on my face as I turned because the coach scowled at me "Enjoy that did you - want some more ?"
I wiped the smile off my face "No sir" . I was sporting a hard-on in my shorts too, but my jock strap held that at bay. I often got hard at training, so I was sure a few other guys were in a similar condition.
Coach said "Ok, now our tradition is that you say a formal apology - repeat after me ... 'I'm sorry to my squad mates and I'm sorry to my coach and I'm sorry to the College for disrupting our training'".
I repeated the oath, and turned and put my hands on the top of my head. I looked over at Fergo who looked more composed.
Coach then spoke to the whole group "That's how we punish stupidity in this squad. I will not paddle anyone for an honest mistake, but for fighting you will receive no mercy. If either of these two stuff up in the next month he'll be out of the squad.".
With that he stalked out of the room.
Arnie came over to Fergo, and brought him over by me and said "Now you two shake hands, and stop this nonsense". We shook.
Fergo said "Look Martin, I'm sorry I got carried away"
"Me too " I said.
I was about to turn to my locker to change shoes when Fergo continued "You know I haven't been paddled or beaten since my own probationary time. I'd forgotten how much it hurts".
All I could think of saying was "Yeah".
He continued "You took that well - but I guess you're in practice".
I smiled sheepishly, and he returned the grin as I said "yeah, but I deserved it".
"Well, whatever" he said "let's start again, I'm not going to beat you as frequently as I have been". We shook hands again. I hadn't expected this response. I'd sort of assumed he'd want revenge on my backside.
The group gradually broke up and we made our way to breakfast - I had to tell all my friends what the paddle felt like on the way to the dining hall. I had a quick shower, and went off to lectures.
That evening I came back to the college in good time, and went in for dinner. There were no canings that night, so we broke from dinner and I went up to my room to study. A few hours later I went over to Philly's room to catch up with him - we hadn't spoken all day.
"Hey Sy" I said, as I sauntered into his room. I'd been wearing baggy , Bermuda shorts that day, and I'd stripped my shirt off in the balmy evening. Phillips was wearing no shirt either, and just his old worn jeans. He looked up at me and smiled .
"The very man I've been wanting to talk to" he said.
"OK I'm here" I said.
"Indeed you are " he agreed, "I've worked out what I'm going to do about what happened the last night (se Part A of this story)".
I said "Look, I'm sorry you got caned, but I've said before ,I knew nothing about it".
He leapt up off his chair and glared at me "What if I don't believe you, and what if I want revenge".
I sighed "Then we have a problem"
He laughed "No YOU have the problem - what I want to know is -- will you give me satisfaction?"
I sighed again. I knew exactly what he was referring to. At The Grammar School we had an honour code amongst senior students - if two had a disagreement over a matter of student discipline, but they agreed that they didn't want to go to their house master then the aggrieved boy had the right to "slipper" the other boy. The slippered boy had the reciprocal right to slipper the other guy if he wanted to. That way they were deemed to have sorted it out between themselves.
Any such incidence were never reported to members of staff, nor to the prefects. As a prefect I'd never faced this threat. I'd heard some rumours of some pretty painful slipperings though !
"Look, I had a hell of a paddling this morning " I said.
"I don't care - it didn't look like it hurt you that much, but even if it did - I demand the school slipper right" he said, deadly serious. I knew that I could just walk out of the room, but the n our friendship would be over and he would have the right to complain about me to the seniors inn the college - and I was sure that would mean I would have to bend over publicly the next evening. I didn't want another caning. This regime was become severe enough that it was no longer exciting or fun.
"Do you have a slipper ?" I asked. He just smiled and brought out one of the Grammar slippers - which he'd obviously kept. "Ok, " I said "I'd rather settle this between us - do you want to do it now ?"
"Absolutely" he crowed, looking obviously delighted. "Bend over and touch your toes".
I complied . He went over and locked his door. I was glad that these rooms seemed pretty sound proof !
He said "OK Marty - I'll give you 12 strokes for setting me up to be caned - of course you have the reciprocal right too !"
"Ok Philly, just get on with it" I demanded.
SPLAT!! the first whacked into my upturned butt. It stung like hell. Ouch !
Again SPLAT, and again and again he whacked into my butt. It hurt, but I felt that I could take it. Obviously all the canings I'd had in the last 10 days had toughened me up so I could take a lot of paddling and slippering.
By eight, it was really hurting. I started to feel less _c_o_c_k_y. SPLAT! "Aww Philly, ease up" I moaned - this was starting to hurt for real. SPLAT ! number nine, then SPLAT went ten, and I called our "Oww, come on this is hurting".
"It's suppose to you idiot !" crowed Philly.
He took a step back to make the last two count. SPLATT!!! , SPLATT!!!. I leapt up and rubbed by burning butt "Oww that hurt!" I glared at my so called friend .
"You can give it to me in return" he said, offering me the slipper.
"OK get into position" I growled, and pulled the slipper back and was set to splat it into Philly's stretched jeans across his upturned butt.
It was a tempting target. I splatted the slipper into it as hard as I could, and again, and again He grunted with the impact. My anger dissipated with the third stroke.
Somehow I didn't feel right hitting him. I put the slipper down, and said "Get up". He stood and looked at me in surprise. "No more mate - I'm satisfied".
"What ?" he asked. I picked up the slipper again and whipped into his butt, and he yelped in surprise as I said "Look, I don't want to slipper your ass any more OK - much as you deserve it".
"But I've only had three" he said.
"That's all you're getting" I said in response as I walked out of his room. He stood in the middle of his room dumbfounded. No one had ever turned down the chance to beat his butt.
I went to my room and got ready for bed. I was dead tired after another long, painful day.
I drifted off to sleep easily .
The next morning I woke - well rested, and full of energy for Rugby training. I reported to Coach in good time, and had an uneventful, if demanding, training session. Both Fergo and I were on our best behaviour, and no one else got paddled. I headed up to my room and showered and got changed and went down to breakfast.
I didn't sit with Philly - I felt a little uncomfortable around him after the previous night's incident. So I had a good, quiet breakfast, and headed up to my room to get my books for my Modern History lecture. We were due to hand in an assignment that morning, but I was ready and confident of a good grade.
It was about 8:30am as I organised things around my room. A note was slid under the door. I picked it up and opened it. My heart sank as I read :
"Martin - we will inspect your wardrobe at 11am today, just after your History lecture. If it is not to standard we will give you twenty strokes with the cane immediately, as well as a further twenty in front of the college at dinner time on a trumped up charge as well as requiring you to resubmit your wardrobe in two day's time. "
"OH NO" I said aloud. I'd forgotten all about inspection, and had prepared nothing. My ass was toast. I didn't think I could take more canings just yet. I started to panic, and raced around trying to organise things - pulling old and crumpled clothes out of the wardrobe, and taking them over to the charity clothes bin.
I was so focused on what I was doing I forgot I was due to be at my history lecture. I had to get the room tidier . It seemed like I had made almost no progressed when there was a knock on the door.
"Martin it's me" came the voice of Mcgregor. He walked in with white gloves on - and ran his finger along the top of the wardrobe. The tip was black. he tut-tutted as he puled the glove off.
I was dreading him opening the wardrobe. It wasn't very tidy and there were still sub-standard clothes left in it. However he surprised me, by sitting down at my desk and asking "How did the history lecture go ?'
"Ummmm" I improvised as I thought "ah, fine thanks"
He looked at my desk and spied the new assignment on the top, I cursed under my breath "Oh, is this your new assignment ?"
"Yes" I said
"Spare copy ?" he asked.
"Sorry" I said - not getting his point.
"I asked if this is a spare copy" he said dangerously.
"Ummm No" I murmured.
"Then why wasn't it handed it at the lecture today ?"
"I forgot" I stammered.
"Forgot what - the assignment , or to be there ?" he said in that dangerous tone.
"Umm to be there" I mumbled.
"Why ?" he asked
"I was tidying up in here" I said.
"That's no reason to miss a class, you've had two days to get ready you idiot - you just left it to the last minute didn't you" he barked.
"I know, I just forgot" I mumbled.
"Forgot" he yelled, "I give you something you won't forget soon you grubby little prob" At that he threw open the cupboard and sniffed with disdain "This is substandard - get your butt upstairs".
I scurried up into the secret elite area. Closely followed by Mcgregor.
He growled " I can see you DO need discipline after all". He actually seemed angry and disappointed in me. "Get over that table" he ordered.
I rushed to comply. I was glad I had jeans on - they stretched across my butt, and I knew I would soon be in considerable pain. I had no idea about what was to happen. I heard him rummage around in a cupboard and saw from the corner of my eye him pull a huge cane out of a box. It looked to be two inches thick and 5 feet long. He swished it around with a confident air.
"You've really screwed up" he said "You'll get extra strokes for missing class at both your beatings today - that's 15 now and 15 after dinner"
I gulped.
He didn't say anything more. Suddenly I heard a SWISH and then the THWACK as the cane bit into my backside. "Yeoooowwww" I howled. This was agony. All the old stripes and weals from my other beatings flamed into life and my butt was agony, and this was just from one stroke !
SWISH THAWACK !!! Make that two "Ouch!" it really hurt. Tears were already flowing down my face. Mcgregor didn't pause he just hit me again, ......
.... and again ..... "Yeoww please stop ..."
.... and again ..... "I'm really sorry - I'll do ....
.... and again ..... ".... better, just ppplesase .....
.... and again ..... " ahh, stop"
.... and again ..... "Oh God it huuurts "
.... and again ..... "Awww Mcgreggor"
.... and again ..... "Yeoww stop now "
.... and again ..... "Ahhhh"
.... and again ..... [Groan]
.... and again ..... [ Whimper]
.... and again ..... [Groan] "No more please"
.... and again ..... "Owwww"
I lay on the table sobbing. I was in agony. I couldn't bring myself to stand, until Mcgregor slapped my backside and barked "Stand".
I scrambled up, and tried to stop crying.
Mcgregor paced around, glaring at me "Here's what's going to happen - you will go from here and submit your history paper - you will grovel to Professor Smith You will give him this note." He sat at the desk and wrote a brief note explaining that the history paper was ready in time and that I had been punished for missing his class. He handed me the note in a sealed envelope. He continued "You will then report back and you will organise your room to standard - I will check on your progress today. You will be caned by Johnstone, for missing a lecture, after dinner in front of the college. We will have another inspection of your room on Thursday ."
I looked at the floor - very daunted.
Mcgegor whacked the table with the cane, barking "Well, get on with it !"
I jumped to attention and raced from the room. My butt very much ablaze.
To be continued.......