This is a story about Martin - a young man who has recently been featuring in "The College Years" series of stories about his initiation into university life. Last year I posted a number of stories about Martin when he was a school boy. I'm pleased to re-post this updated version of the "Smokin' Butts" story under the new umbrella series of "The School Years" - with the appalling spelling and grammar errors of the original corrected, as well as some new details. As in all Martin stories - it is all written from his, rather unfortunate, point of view.
Over the next few months I'll update all the school years adventures of Martin - I hope you enjoy them !!!
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This incident occurred when I was aged 16, in the second last year of high school, Grade 11 - preparing for the exams which would decide what University I would be able to attend. I had shot-up in height- reaching 6 foot, and had started working out in the school gym in preparation for the football season, so I was in great shape, with well-defined arm and leg muscles, a flat stomach, and a firm butt. I was also enjoying a healthy tan, as I was a volunteer lifesaver on our local beach. During Grade 11 I settled down a lot, and didn't get into nearly as much trouble as the years before. I actually worked quite hard a my school work and was developing a reputation among the teachers as a 'reformed', good student.
Only once did I receive a 'formal' caning from the Headmaster ... and it was the most painful and memorable had to endure during my school years. This story tells of that incident.
I had been invited onto the 'Senior Biology Camp', which was open to only the best students of biological science in Grade 11. For this camp, we travelled by boat to an off-shore island, where the school maintained a campsite - complete with kitchen, bathrooms and store-rooms. The purpose of the camp was that we explored the island to observe and record the various animal habitats and vegetation zones. It was great fun, and I certainly learnt a lot. Unfortunately, I nearly blew it, on the last evening.
Part of the 'agreement' between boys and masters on this camp was that we would enjoy nearly unlimited freedom. We were warned that any stupid behaviour would be severely punished, because we were being placed on trust to act like 'mature young men', and there was real danger on the island. In short we were pretty much free to wander in and out of camp at will. On the last day before departure, we finished up our exploration, and had a final lecture, summing up to biology of the island. This ended at 4:30pm, after that we had no formal lessons/work until the boat picked us up at 10:30 the next morning.
So, my mates Stu' and Nick and I all looked forward to a few care-free hours enjoying the beach, before dinner. Wearing nothing but swimming shorts and T-shirts, we ran down to the beach, but Stu' called a halt behind some bushes. I asked him what was up, when he pulled some cigarettes, and matches out. I was shocked. I had never smoked - I hadn't given in to the little bit of peer pressure, and I was dismayed that Stu' apparently had. Also we had been warned about fires on the island, as there had been no rain for a month - and the risk of bush-fires was high.
Anyway, he lit up, as did Nick, and they offered me one. I said No, but they insisted again and again, and finally I agreed to a 'puff'. I took a drag on the cigarette and immediately regretted it, because I started to cough violently. I dropped the cig. in my distress, and the grass around my feet started to catch on fire. I jump up in fright, and leapt back onto the path as the 'tinderbox' undergrowth continued to catch fire. Someone must have noticed the smoke, because I soon heard yells, and I pulled my T-shirt off and started to beat the flames. My two mates did the same, and we had the fire out by the time the Master together with a few other boys came running down the path.
Our teacher took in the scene, and spied the three cigarette butts on the ground, and said :
"So, smoking were we ?"
"Sir ... " we all muttered, unable to meet his eye.
"I warned you boys of what would happen if you breached the trust I was putting in you !" he said sternly.
Again we couldn't look in his eye.
He continued " .. and now you almost burn down the environment we were supposed to be studying.! He shook his head, saying " Clean this up, and then report back to camp inside 30 minutes !" He turned to the other boys and told them to summon the rest of the class into the main camp in half an hour.
"_s_h_i_t_!" was all we could think to say. Stu' started apologising to me, but I stopped him ... I was just as much at fault as him. I was dreading what would happen ... but I had a feeling my backside would be involved!
Removed the cigarette butts, and tidied the burnt area as much as possible , and returned to camp, where the other 24 guys were standing around in a semi-circle. We walked between them to the centre, despite their stares. Mr Jeffries was standing in there. He told us to stand by him. Ominously he was holding a long stick which he used for pointing
out interesting biological features on the island. I dimly remember being warned that this stick would be used on our backsides if we misbehaved. I was fairly sure I could take it ... but I'd never been beaten with a stick like it, and never over swimming shorts.
Mr Jeffries then called the group to order. Pointing at us he said:
"I warned you all that misbehaviour would be dealt with very sverely, and now these three clowns almost started a bush fire ... and I'm not amused !"
"Um sir " began Stu'
"Shut-up!" yelled our teacher, "now smoking is a caning offence, and so you three will be seeing the Head when we return to school tomorrow, but I am going to discipline you NOW as well, for your stupidity in almost setting this place on fire. " He let a long silence drag before adding ", and remember that if it wasn't for your quick actions in putting the fire out, the island would now be ablaze, and you three would be expelled from school .. so consider yourselves lucky!"
The three of us gulped nervously, feeling very exposed in our brief swimming shorts.
Mr J. continued... "So, as you're all big lads, who ought to know better, I think 20 strokes each with this stick ought to give you something to think about"
There was an excited ripple through the group, as I gulped nervously, and clenched my backside.
The teacher pointed at Stu' saying : "Smith ... I suspect that you're the ring-leader of this smoking so you can go first"
Stu' stepped forward nervously. His hands automatically rubbing his butt.
"Bend over and grab your ankles" said the teacher, as Stu' complied .
After a bit of shuffling about and adjusting his legs, Stu' as went right over, his butt facing all the other lads. Mr J. stepped behind him and said "Count !" before lifting the stick way above his shoulder and crashing it down on Stu' with a loud CRAAACK ! "Yeowww !" yelled Stu', gasping in surprise before saying "One, sir!"
I watched fascinated as the strokes rained down on poor Stu'. He and I had both been in trouble before, but somehow I had ended up taking far more strokes of the cane over the years - I guess he was better at talking his way out of it. He managed to stay down for all twenty, although he lost his grip on his ankles after about 12. He stood up slowly at the end, red-faced with tears in his eyes - he gingerly rubbed his butt as he limped over to the side in order to watch the next whacking ... which was to be me !
Mr J. pointed at me and pointed to the same place. I walked over their and assumed the position. I could see the other guys watching in rapt fascination, between my legs. I could also hear Stu' sniffling over to the side. I heard Mr J. say "Martin, I'm very disappointed to see this deterioration in your behaviour, after the improvements we've seen this year - you clearly need a sharp reminder of school discipline standards, now, count !"
I could just hear the whoosh as the stick descended towards my butt. It WHACKED into it and I grunted in surprise. It really stung ! I had to fight off an urge to stand and rub my butt. "One sir !" I said
The strokes continued. I could feel the stinging stripes on my butt. After 6 strokes, my voices started quavering, as the pain redoubled as the whacks intersected with existing stripes.
WHACK "oow, that's eight !" I said
Whack "Nine" I groaned , struggling to keep my voice even.
WHACK "Owwww, oh Christ it hurts, that's T-ten" I moaned
"Don't curse !" said Mr J. sternly. "I'll report that to the Head, to
add to your punishment tomorrow!"
I gulped in fear, I was so intent on the immediate pain that I'd forgotten about the horrors of formal punishment by the Headmaster. That might involve the cane, or maybe suspension ....
WHACK! "Ahhh, that's eleven"
The strokes continued. I think my butt was getting numb, because I didn't swear or curse again. It did really hurt though, I was sobbing out the numbers:
WHACK ! "Owwww, that's s-sixteen sir "
WHACK ! "Ahhh seventeen !"
WHACK ! "Eighteen !"
WHACK "Owwww Nineteen !"
WHACK "Yeowww that's Twenty !"
"OK Martin, get up" said Mr J. before pointing over to wear Stu' was standing. I stood slowly and limped my way over to stand by my friend. Like him I was sniffling, and barely holding back tears.
I must confess that I didn't really notice Nick's beating. I was dimly aware of someone wailing and sobbing, but was preoccupied with rubbing my own butt and controlling the throbbing pain. Nick wasn't beaten nearly as much as me, and so Mr J. went a bit easier on him, still it seemed to really hurt him. A few minutes later, Nick limped over, tears running down his face. The three of us were told to go and lie in our tents, and miss out on dinner. I limped through the group, and gratefully fell into my tent - lying on my stomach, and messaging my flaming arse.
As I lay there I realised that I'd never been beaten so severely. More strokes, with less protection than ever. That pointer stick was every bit the equal of the Senior sports cane when applied vigorously to a thinly protected teenage backside! There was only one level of corporal punishment harsher than that, and that was the Headmaster's cane, which I had never felt. As I drifted into a restless sleep, I realised I might get to understand what that most severe cane felt like in a few hours.
I got little sleep, because of the worry over what the Headmaster would do, and also because of the pain in my butt.
Anyway, it was soon 6:30 and we were all roused, and told to pack tents before breakfast. Standing up was painful for me. I limped over to the shower block, and checked out my well-bruised butt. It was still red, and criss-crossed with stripes ! I got some admiring wolf-whistles from the other guys in the showers. One flicked me with his towel and I yelped in pain.
Bending over to strike the tent hurt. Lifting my back-pack hurt. Standing in line for breakfast hurt - particularly because half the class took perverse pleasure in whacking my butt somehow !
Stu' and Nick were just as sore and morose. Mr J. told us he had spoken with the Head by phone, and that he was very angry with us. Somehow I knew my butt would soon understand that !
Sitting on the boat as we headed back to the mainland hurt - sitting on hard seats. Anyway, we made it back to school, and were ordered to report to change into uniform and report to the Head.
My heart raced and my butt tingled when the Head walked in to his room to lecture us. We were in a row in front of his desk. An ominous looking cane was sitting on that desk. He glared at us.
"Well, three careless smokers !" he said mildly
"yes sir" we all mumbled
"Well, you know the penalty for smoking ?"
A silence stretched. But as the most frequently caned among the three of us, I said "the cane sir ?"
He said " Yes Martin, the cane ... for boys your age that means twelve strokes with my special Headmaster's cane"
I gasped in shock - this was worse than I expected! My butt clenched involuntarily. I could still feel the pain from the previous night's beating, and so wasn't sure if I could take the cane.
The Head continued " but, given the severity of the beating you've already had, out of all fairness, I will give you a choice, you can take your caning right now, while your beating from last night is still fresh, OR you can take a month's suspension, also starting now, plus only 4 strokes".
My mind reeled with the possibilities. I saw Stu' and Nick look at each other. Nick spoke first : "I'll take suspension sir !"
"Very well Williams" said the Head.
Stu' piped up "Me too sir, I'll take suspension". The Head just nodded. I wasn't sure if this was a good idea. The first wave of University exams was in 6 weeks .. and we had a lot of ground to cover. I didn't want to miss class time !
I clenched my butt again, and thought a short prayer. Before saying "Well sir, I think I'll take the full caning !"
"Ah, Martin " said the Head, beaming " a brave decision ... I hope you don't regret it!"
"No sir !" I said fervently.
"Alright" he said, "our two suspendees first", gesturing to Nick to stretch himself over the big desk, and grab the other side. I saw his bum present itself, as his trousers stretched tight. He was stockier than me, and had a well-developed butt. I knew he hadn't been caned much, and hadn't taken the beating of the night before particularly well. He looked really nervous.
The Head picked up his cane, which was over four feet long, and as thick as two thumbs, and very, very flexible. He swished it a couple of times, and Nick contracted his butt "just in case". I felt a hard-on stirring, as I watched in this tense, nervous atmosphere. My pulse was racing, and I was very aware of the pain already in my butt - with more to come !
The Head said: "Count"
He drew back the huge cane. It's end swished back, as he flicked it forward the leading edge whacked across Nick's backside. I saw his butt flinch, and clench. "Owww" wailed Nick, as he leapt up and put both hands over his butt. Tears were already forming. "Oh sir, please don't hit me again ! " he pleaded.
"Williams !" snapped the Head. "Get yourself back over that desk and
count, or I'll give you the full twelve"
"But sir" he protested.
"NOW!" yelled the Head, as Nick quickly complied. Soon his backside was back in position.
The Head readied the second stroke. It whacked into poor Nick's buttocks. It was harder this time because of Nick's outburst. Nick yelled in considerable pain " Owww sir, that's two".
The third stroke was readied and the cane whooshed into Nick's butt, and he instantly clenched as it hit "Yeoww that's th-three sir !" he sobbed.
The fourth stroke whacked into his backside and Nick howled in pain "wow, sir that's four".
He lay across the desk, sobbing and completely defeated. The Head told him to stand, and I watched as he slowly stood. Clearly, any movement of his backside caused him a lot of pain. I was both excited and nervous with the anticipation at my own impending caning. The front of my trousers were bulging with a throbbing hard-on.
Nick stood, and gingerly touched his butt, and started rubbing it.
"Felt that, didn't you !" said the Head.
"Yes sir "mumbled Nick, still rubbing his backside. Nick stepped back in line with Stu' and me. The Head motioned Stu forward, as the Head motioned for him to take the position.
The Head turned to me and said " Still feel like you can take 12 ?"
I just looked at my feet.
"Want to opt for suspension instead ?"
"No sir " I said.
"Very well," he said briskly, before turning his attention to Stu's upturned butt.
Stu was in better condition than Nick, and his backside was well-defined and muscular. He'd had a burst of growth recently, and his trousers were very tight around his bum. I couldn't help but imagine that my butt would look similar.
Stu moved his butt about to get comfortable, and put his legs further apart. His backside was in the perfect position, with both cheeks tightly presented for the cane.
The Head smiled tightly, saying "I know you've been caned rather more than Williams, Smith, so I shall deal with you more harshly, now COUNT"
"Sir ...?" queried Stu, as the Head took a step back, and put the full force of his shoulder in swinging the cane into Stu's buttocks. They quivered with the impact, with a loud 'TWWACK'.
Stu audibly gasped with shock. Paused a moment to get his breath, and gulp and croaked "One".
The Head stepped back again and swung his cane, if anything, even harder. TWACKKK!
"Ahh sir ....[gulp] .... that's t-t-wo!"
Again the Head stepped back and swished the cane even harder. WHACK!
"Oooo sir, that hurts " sobbed Stu, "that's three"
Finally, the Head took two steps back , and so had a small run-up in swinging the cane into Stu's bum .
"Yeowww " sobbed Stu, his butt quivering from the impact as he clenched his cheeks together, obviously in huge pain, saying "four !"
Like Nick before him, Stu lay across the Head's desk, sobbing after four severe strokes. I stood behind him with a massive hard-on, and a tingling backside. My heart was racing, and I was sweating profusely. The Head indicated to Stu that he should stand up. He got up very slowly - obviously he was in considerable pain. He was heaving heavy sobs, and
tears ran down his face. As he stepped back from the desk his hands went back to rub his backside. He also had a raging hard-on, and his backside remained well defined by his tight trousers. He didn't smile .
My heart began to race even more. The Head looked at my two friends and
said : "Alright you two, believe me you've just had it easy compared to what's about to happen to Martin, but you also are going to be out of school for a month, just as you should be preparing for exams. You may come to regret this decision in time, however my prediction is that Martin will regret his decision right now, but be glad later."
The Head then turned to me, and told me to assume the position. I stepped over to his desk and lay myself across his desk, My backside still hurt whenever I moved it. As I leaned over, my hard-on squashed against the edge of the desk rather painfully. I just wanted to stand-up and re-arrange things, but didn't dare. Just then the Head pushed me to
stretch further across the desk - I felt my trousers stretch very tightly over my butt - to the point where it hurt as the fabric cut into the weals from the previous night's beating. Equally my groin was uncomfortably rubbing against the desk. I thought to myself that I'll really struggle to say down - even if he doesn't hit me !
My head and chest rested on the desk. My heart was racing and I was sweating even more. My backside was tingling in expectation. I tried to psyche myself into taking this like a man.
I than heard the Head say: "Alright Martin, you're in for the beating of your life ! I'm going to give you twelve strokes with this cane. Because you've been caned quite a few times before... each stroke will be given with a run-up. " I gulped in fear. He continued ".. and you will count each one. You will not stand up, or move your hands back to cover your backside. Because of the severity of this caning , I want you Smith to come over here and hold his shoulders down."
I watched as I saw Stu's legs enter my point of view. I felt him put his weight on my shoulders. I could hear him quietly sob in pain just above me.
I heard the Head take up position and say "prepare yourself". I grabbed the edge of the desk tightly and said a quick prayer.
I head him take three steps back and make his one and half step run-up, as he WHACKED that cane into my bum. I felt and heard the impact, just before a searing pain spread across my backside, igniting all the wounds from the earlier beating. I clenched my cheeks and wriggled under Stu's weight, and sucked in my breath in pain "One, sir"
I heard him prepare for the second stroke, as I tried clenching my butt again, but the stroke whacked down and hurt even more, and all the weals had now been re-struck by this severe cane. Again I let our a gasp of air with a grunt, and took a moment to find my voice saying "Two".
The third stroke shuddered into my bum : I gasped in pain, and I my voice quavered as I said "Three".
The fourth whacked into me, as I gasped in pain again, struggling under Stu, saying "Wow sir, that hurts, please sir, no more sir "
"COUNT Martin !" barked the Head, "you've got eight more strokes "
He whacked the fifth stroke into my bum with extra vigour in reprisal. I gasped in agony, as tears flowed down my face. I took a moment to find my voice through the pain, as my voice quavered "t-t-hat's five".
Again he took a step back and whacked this massive cane into my backside. By this time, the stroke was intersecting with the new weals formed by the first five strokes, as well as the marks from the previous beating. "Yeowww" I howled, no longer mindful of my dignity, if Stu hadn't been holding me, I would have leapt up, as I croaked "S-s-ix".
Just then the seventh stroke whacked into my bum. I gasped - he was speeding up the strokes, but keeping up the strength. I just managed to groan "seven" as the eighth stroke whacked into me. I was gasping for air between sobs as I completely gave up any pretence of being able to 'handle' this level of punishment. I head Stu wince in sympathy over my
head.
While I was gasping in pain, unable to say "eight" the Head said "Alright Martin, four to go, these will be given quickfire, so it's going to hurt even more, but don't worry about counting"
He stepped back, and I felt the ninth whacked into my bum, just as the pain spread across my bum, and I gasped in pain, the tenth whacked into the same place, and I started to whimper in pain. No sooner had I registered this new pain than I felt the next stroke impact the same point with what seemed like even more force.
I cried out in pain "Owwwwww s-s-" but before I could say any more the twelfth and final
stroke whacked into my bum. I was crying in agony now yelling "sir, oh please sir, it hurts, I'm so sorry "
The Head was unmoved. "Alright Martin, that's your twelve. Well done, you took that quite well. Now Smith, let go of his shoulders, but Martin, you are not to stand yet." I felt Stu lift off me, but lay across the desk, grateful that no more strokes were impacting my bum.
I was therefore horrified when the Head next said "Now Martin, Mr Jeffries tells me you swore when he beat you last night. I think I should beat you again for that "
"Sir ?" I asked in alarm.
"We believe in respect at this school Martin, I'm going to give you four strokes with the Senior cane for this transgression. I don't think you should be held down for this, so you'd better not stand or you'll get extra strokes."
I was so horrified I didn't know what to say. I was still in agony, and the thought of more strokes - even with a lighter cane was too much to bear. But the Head said "Prepare yourself - no need to count "
Before I could say anything I felt the first stroke, as my backside lit-up with pain. The impact wasn't as heavy as the other cane, but it stung more. Of course it was all the more painful because of the previous caning. I yelled out "yeowww", but then the next stroke impact and my yell just continued, as the third stroke whacked into me. I paused for breath, and gasped in pain as the fourth stroke whacked into me.
Again I lay across the desk crying freely.
"Stand" the Head barked. At first I couldn't stand - the muscles in my bum were too abused. Finally I slowly lifted my self off the table with my arms and paused, leaning on the table, still heaving sobs of pain. The Head said to Stu and Nick, "See what you've missed out on !, Now get out, and get off campus. I don't want to see either of you for a month"
While I stood there, I heard the two of them race out of the room, and any chance of getting what I'd just got. The Head came up to me and put a hand on my shoulder and said "take your time - that was one hell of a beating, but you took it well" I nodded at the compliment.
He stepped back and said " I'm glad you took this option - you're becoming too good a student to have university entrance undermined by a stupid mistake".
Again I nodded as I gingerly stood upright, and gingerly touched my backside. I took a step and winced with pain. The Head dismissed me with a nod saying "that'll be all Martin, I hope I don't see you in here again for a caning ".
"Yes sir" I mumbled, tearfully. As I painfully made my way down-stairs. Stu and Nick had already left the school campus, but a group of the guys from the camp were waiting to see me to hear about my severe punishment, although Stu had already given them a pretty comprehensive picture of what happened. It was a story I had to re-tell dozens of times, but I was able to return to school the next day (albeit in quite a bit of pain) and continue preparing for my exams, which I passed.
I was never so glad that my parents didn't believe in repeating school punishments with extra at home - they always just told me that it "served me right" if I got into trouble at school. They never acted to try and prevent me getting the cane, but equally they didn't duplicate it either. I told them what happened this day and Dad actually seemed quite impressed at the caning I'd taken - but ominously warned me that if he caught me smoking, or even heard about me smoking, I'd get the thrashing of my life from him regardless of what the school did. I was happy to vow never to smoke, because I was determined never to give in to stupid peer pressures again.
Despite this ominous warning, I think I was right to take the caning. Nick and Stu' had to repeat year 11 studies because they did quite badly at the exams . They each got extra punishment from their fathers, as they were seen to have gotten off lightly by comparison to me - Nick even had to take a strapping from his Dad- 15 strokes, that night, across his bare butt. I didn't see either of them while they were on suspension - our parents had all agreed that the three of us had been in enough trouble together and could do with some time apart.
We remained friends once they were back at school, and I've kept in touch even after moving a year ahead of them.
Needless to say, none of us have ever smoked again !