The following morning I woke early and was immediately aware of my injured bottom and legs. I only moved a little and it seemed I then broke a fragile film on the surface of my skin that released a burning sensation. I was suddenly fully awake and remembered yesterday. My eyes were sore from dried tears. It was dark. I climbed out of bed very slowly. I was still inconsiderable pain although its intensity had diminished. I went to the bathroom and put on the light. I lowered my pyjama trousers and craned to look at my rear in the mirror. My bottom was a mess of blue, black, purple and mostly red bruising. There was no white flesh to be seen. I could see distinct cane marks right down my legs to a point just above my knees. I noticed bloodstains on my pyjamas. My father had punished me to an extent that I would not have believed possible. I went back to bed and tried to forget. I slept.
I was then aware of my bedroom door opening and my mother coming in with a cup of tea. She was bright and breezy.
"Wake up sleepyhead" she said. "Your dad wants to see you downstairs as soon as possible"
I dressed in the clothes I had worn yesterday. The cool cotton lining of my new short trousers caressed my bruised bottom. I rubbed it gently. The pain was continual but quite bearable. My bottom still felt hot to touch despite the fact that the last time the cane had struck it was nearly eleven hours earlier. I went downstairs slowly. As I descended the red wheals on my bottom and legs reminded me of my punishment. Dad was waiting for me in the lounge. The cane was still on the mantelpiece where he had left it last night. Dad noticed me looking at it.
"Don't worry, son. You're not going to feel that again today. Take your trousers down. I want to see the effects of your punishment"
I did as instructed. Dad went round my back and looked long and hard. He touched some of the wheals gently.
"OK, Philip. You have been very well punished. There is no doubt about it but do not think that it was anything other than thoroughly deserved. Now pull your trousers up."
With some relief I did as I was told.
"Now Philip, on Monday next you and I are to go and see your headmaster. Our job is to convince him that you should be accepted back into the school. If we should fail your expulsion shall be confirmed and there will be no other chance. This has been made very clear to me and I wish to make it very clear to you. I said to you yesterday morning, in front of your younger brothers, that you were going to be caned every day for the rest of this week - at least twice a day. The good news for you is that this is now very unlikely to happen. You have already been very severely punished and I admire the way that you submitted to it. This has given me great encouragement."
He was looking at me with an expression of the aforesaid encouragement and I murmured: "Thank you, Sir"
"Thank you Philip." He replied, stressing the "you" and with a warmness of tone that made me feel rather satisfied. I was, without even thinking, standing to attention and looking up to him in a way that would have suited a ten year old showing subordination to his father. I was fifteen, but small for my age - barely five foot two inches. My father was just under six foot and it was not difficult to feel small in front of him especially dressed as I was.
"For the rest of this week, Philip, you will be given schoolwork to do and you will attend to it with due diligence. We will also be devising a list of rules and code of conduct that you will be expected to abide by. I will only cane you if I find you have been neglecting your work, for breaking rules, failing to meet the standard and for any other misdemeanour. However the actual caning or canings will be deferred until next week to allow you to recover properly from yesterday's thrashings. I am of the opinion that you wish to succeed in your bid to be accepted back and I certainly am intent on you being so. This will be through a team effort and as Captain of the team I intend that we succeed."
He stopped talking and looked at me intently.
"Yes, Sir" I said.
"Alright, Philip. Now you will spend the rest of the week in your room doing schoolwork. Initially you will carry on copying out chapters from the Bible -from the book of Proverbs, as I am sure you will agree is appropriate. If you do not understand it all do not worry. I will be very pleased to answer any questions you may have and if I cannot answer them I will refer you to your RE master. From tomorrow I will be setting you tasks that are relevant to your approaching O levels. It is very important that you attend to this work properly as this is part of our test. The work is to be shown to your headmaster on Monday. Provided that I think there is a strong likelihood that you will be accepted back I will go to your headmaster on Friday afternoon. I will only do that if you buckle down to your work this week. If I can convince him that I have done all I can to provide you with a disciplined environment it will then be up to you to finally convince your headmaster on Monday morning that you should be accepted back on whatever terms he lays down. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir" I said, although my mind was reeling. I thought he said before he was not going to see the headmaster until Monday.
"Remember, Philip, if you do not get down to some serious work this week I will not even waste your headmaster's time, or mine, in seeing him. I really hope you are taking what I am saying as seriously as it is intended. You took your punishments well but that is only a beginning. It has to be followed up with some hard work."
"Yes, Sir, I will work, Sir" I said. I meant it.
"Alright, Philip. I believe you mean it." He then left the room. I stood there wondering what to do. I did not move for five minutes but the decided to sit down. I waited nervously. A further ten minutes went by and I was thinking whether I should go to my room and start some work. Suddenly I heard my father approach and I jumped up from my seat and stood to attention again. He came in and said,
"I have just telephoned your Headmaster, Philip, just to say that you are going to try and work at this. I wanted to confirm that he was serious in his intention in letting you back in and on what terms. I have told him exactly how you have been punished by me and how well you submitted to it. This has gone very much in your favour. It has been agreed between us that provided you do the schoolwork set for you this week to an acceptable standard then he will see you on Monday morning. I will look at the work first and it seems you have been trying hard you will show it to your headmaster on Monday. He still has to look at it though and he may still reject it. I have explained to him that you have now returned to wearing short trousers and are strictly forbidden to wear long trousers for the foreseeable future. This has met with a very favourable response. You are to report to him on Monday morning, immediately after assembly, in school uniform and in short trousers, of course. It is then up to you to explain your misconduct, to apologise for it and promise that there will be no repetition of anything like it. You will then show him your homework. If you succeed in all this he will then explain to you the terms of your re-admittance and that will include details of an immediate severe punishment. If you accept the conditions you will take the punishment and that will be a very severe caning such as you may become very familiar with in the regime of strict discipline that will be provided for you, unless you really pull your socks up. If you fail, he will telephone me and I will collect you from the school and will then decide what is to be done with you. I am very much hoping, and trusting that this will not be necessary. Do you understand exactly what I am saying, Philip?" During this my father's voice had Becomes lightly louder and firmer.
"Yes, Sir", I said quietly, looking at him through tears that had started to prick my eyes. I wondered what the terms of re-admittance were going to be.
"Right. Good boy. Go to your room and copy out the chapters I have written down. You will find a slip of paper on your desk. I will see you again this evening"
"Yes, Sir, Thank you Sir"
I left the room feeling very small and vulnerable. I climbed the stairs to my room and sat at my school desk upon which sat the Bible and a slip of paper with the details of my work for the day. I lifted the desk lid and extracted my exercise book and fountain pen and started to write. The day passed slowly. By the end I had writers cramp again and my bottom was itching aching from sitting on the hard chair all day, constantly reminding me of my canings. My bedroom was cold and I was not able to forget I was in short trousers. I was not yet used to them again. I worked hard and dad was pleased with me. The following day, Friday, was much the same although I was set tests in maths and history. I worked very hard but was becoming very bored by the middle of Thursday afternoon. Although I was forbidden to leave the house I crept out to go the corner shop and get some sweets. As I left by the back gate I suddenly realised that I was out in public in short trousers again and hadn't even considered that. I nearly turned straight round but decided not to. Somehow I thought I shall have to go to school like this on Monday. The shopkeeper asked if I was on holiday as she served me and I noticed her looking at my little boys' clothes. I just smiled and said little. I walked back home and passed an elderly man who lived across the road from us. "Hello, Philip" he said breezily.
"Hello, Mr Brown" I replied. He had not noticed my clothes. I felt more comfortable. As I crept back in the house I heard my mother from the kitchen.
"And where do you think you've been, Philip?"
"Nowhere"
"Rubbish. You will explain yourself to your father when he gets home. Show me what you've got in your hands."
"Thank you. I will take that," she said firmly as I handed over the Mars bar I had just purchased. Oh dear, how on earth did mum see me. I wondered what to say to dad but decided the truth was probably best. A further hour and a half of work. Dad came upstairs as soon as he came home.
"What have you to say for yourself, Philip" I stood up.
"Nothing really. I only went to buy some sweets"
"Well, you know that was forbidden. You were strictly instructed to stay here and work all day. You had absolutely no right to go out. You obviously knew that. Part of your new rules is that you always ask permission to leave the house in any case. You will have four strokes of the cane on Monday after school."
"Yes, Sir. Thank you."
Thank you! Why was I thanking him, I thought. I did not really worry though. Four strokes will be nothing after what I'd been through. After dinner I was sent to bed. It was lights out at eight o'clock for me until further notice except for Saturdays. Saturday was another day of schoolwork but it was interrupted at two-thirty and I was told we were going to town to buy me some clothes. I had been wearing the same short trousers and grey pullover all week although I was on the second pair of socks. I had no more suitable clothes according to Dad. At the outfitters I was supplied with two more pairs of grey school shorts and six pairs of school uniform socks as well as a new blazer, cap, tie, pullover, school scarf, grey shirts, white underclothes and a navy blue school raincoat with a belt. I thought only first formers still wore coats like that. I was also bought two pairs of corduroy shorts and more plain grey long socks for wearing when not required to be in school uniform. He also bought me a navy blue suit with short trousers that I had to try on in full view in the shop. I just hoped none of my school friends were going to see me. After the school outfitters we went to a shoe shop for some new black school shoes and then to the barbers for a short back and sides. I had to do another hours work at home but then it was over for the weekend. I went downstairs and was allowed into the living room for the first time since my confinement and rather sheepishly greeted my young brothers who had not seen me since Wednesday morning. Dad followed me in.
"Right boys, Philip's punishment has now finished and we are going to get back to normal, or what you will soon know as ordinary." That sounded ominous.
"It's Saturday evening and if you want we can watch TV."
Doctor Who was just finishing as Dad put on the television and then the football results came on. After dinner we played Scrabble and I won. I was really enjoying myself now but my nine year old brother Christopher had got himself into a state and accused me of cheating and was generally being a pain. Imagine my surprise and delight when Dad took him across his knee, yanked his shorts and pants down and proceeded to slipper him. He gave the boy a sound spanking and he really cried. As much by surprise as anything else although it really must have hurt. It was his first ever spanking as far as I remembered. His bottom turned a bright red before my eyes and I realised that it was arousing me. I noticed Peter watching intently. It was straight to bed for all of us after that and I went to sleep thinking about what I had just witnessed. I was still aware of my own stripes and thought about Monday morning. What was going to happen at school I wondered. I remembered I was also to get the cane from Dad in the evening.
On Sunday morning we had to get up early and we boys all had to go into the lounge and line up in front of Dad who took up his favourite position with his back to the fireplace. I noticed the cane was on the mantelpiece still, although I am sure I had not seen it there last night. There was also a chair in the corner of the room that looked familiar, but I could not place it.
"Now boys I am wanting to have a serious talk. As you know Philip has been and still is in serious trouble. Although his punishment from me for his disgraceful behaviour is now complete he has to see his headmaster in the morning. If he is able to convince him that he has turned over a new leaf he will avoid being expelled from school but will then have to take a severe school caning. In addition he has to see me for a caning I deferred from this week on Monday evening."
My brothers were both looking at me. I was looking at my feet. We did not speak. Little Christopher was still smarting from his unwonted slippering and Peter was looking and feeling very worried, with justification as it turned out. Dad continued, addressing my brothers.
"You both heard me cane Philip twice on Tuesday. It was very severe indeed and I hope that he does not have to have that again. I explained why I had to deal with him. He has allowed himself to get into bad company at school and I must take some of the blame for this. The last time I punished Philip properly was when he was eleven" I nodded in agreement.
"I am afraid that I had let him down rather by not continuing with disciplining him as he became a teenager. Anyway we are not too late and we have some catching up to do. Now, so that I do not repeat the same mistake with you two, you can rest assured that I will not be sparing the rod in this house and certainly not whilst you are schoolboys. You will all be subject to my discipline and from now and for some period to come this is going to be very strict. Philip should be able to tell you where the expression "sparing the rod" comes from" He looked at me.
"Err, the Bible, I think, Sir. Is it from Proverbs?"
"You should know. It is from Proverbs but usually misquoted. There are several references to the rod of discipline by Solomon. The most famous being 13:24 something like "He who spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is careful to discipline him". It is usually quoted as "Spare the rod and spoil the child". Well I don't hate you of course but love you as my sons. I will show it from now on by caring for you as a father should and that has to include discipline and discipline by the rod. I will certainly not be accused of spoiling you either. However, I can promise you that although discipline will be very strict it will also be very fair"
We were now all staring at him and feeling very uncomfortable. Was this our dad talking? He then turned round and took the cane down from the mantelpiece. He flexed it.
"This is one of my rods of discipline. We shall just call it a cane. It is the one I used on Philip on Tuesday evening, across his bare bottom. I have another thicker one that he felt through his school shorts the same morning. In case you are not aware of the effect of a sound caning I shall ask Philip to show you."
I did not move.
"Go on show your brothers"
I undid my shorts and pulled them down together with my pants, turning my back on them as I did so. I heard some boyish expressions of surprise as my young brothers absorbed what they saw. I dressed again. Steven and Christopher both looked at me and then we all looked at our father. He was still holding the cane.
"You will remember that I had occasion to spank you last night, Christopher using a slipper. Did that teach you a lesson?" Dad looked down sternly at my little brother who went red in the face and looked down at his feet.
"Well, did it?"
The boy looked up at his father tearfully. "Yes, it really hurt"
"Well that was your first experience of being slippered wasn't it. It will not be your last and you may also have to have the cane like your brothers. As soon as your are eleven I will not slipper you again and you will only be caned, as you deserve it. Until then it depends very much on how well behaved you are."
Dad then turned his attention to Peter who looked up suddenly. Christopher looked relieved. I was not that worried and enjoying the attention given to my brothers.
"In your case, Peter, as you are eleven and nearly twelve, it is the cane that you will be getting as and when it is deserved. You have already deserved it, as you know and I am going to give it to you now."
Peter then looked very startled and started to cry. Was Dad going to cane Peter in front of us?
"You were very rude to your mother last night and you are going to learn that this sort of behaviour is not tolerated. You must also learn not to start crying before you have any reason to. I have not touched you yet."
"No, sorry" sniffled Peter and took a deep breath.
"That's better. Now bring that chair over to the middle of the room"
Dad was pointing to the chair I noticed as we came in. I then remembered I had seen it in the attic. It was very old, made of leather and used to belong in an old-fashioned office or study. It had belonged to my grandfather but did not really suit our 1950's style furniture. Dad had brought it down last night. We were to become very familiar with that chair. It was not large and probably designed for a visitor to sit in when facing the occupant sitting at his desk. Peter dragged the chair over. Dad turned it round so that the thick leather rounded back of the chair was facing out into the room and the seat towards the fireplace. Peter stood by the chair looking at his father. He was dressed in his usual everyday clothes consisting of a blue pullover with grey flannel short trousers and grey socks that were both resting in corrugations around his ankles.
"Pull your socks up Peter, at once."
Peter obeyed. Dad looked at mine, but mine were neatly in place. Christopher's were sort of pulled up but he completed the task before his dad was able to reprimand him.
"Remember boys. I never want to see you with your socks down." He then pointed to the chair.
"This chair belonged to my father, your grandfather. He used to keep it in his study. There used to be another but it became damaged when we moved house many years ago. I have not told you this before but grandfather was very strict with your uncles and me. He used a cane on us from when we were about seven years old right through until we were at least seventeen. This is the chair over which we had to take our punishments. What you boys are going to experience now is much the same as I had as a boy."
I tried to visualise my father as a boy bending over the chair. I failed. He then attended to Peter.
"Bend across the chair"
After a slight hesitation Peter clambered over the back of the leather chair. It might have been made for the purpose it was now going to be used for. As Peter bent over the chair and grabbed hold of its arms his bottom was resting perfectly on the top of the back and his feet were only touching the floor on tiptoe. I was later to discover the chair was also perfect for dealing with Christopher but his feet were left dangling. In my case I was required to bend further over the back so that my toes also just touched the carpet. The leather chair provided a comfortable and secure base to be beaten across and no forward movement was possible. The site of Peter's rounded bottom hugging the contour of the chair back excited me. His grey flannel shorts that were loose fitting as he stood up normally were now tight on his bottom as it was stretching over the chair. The trouser legs had ridden up revealing an expanse of bare thigh. He looked very vulnerable and I suddenly felt affection for him that I do not remember having before. I was growing closer to him. Now both dressed alike and subject to proper discipline by caning I had gained a new respect for both of my brothers. I think I had begun to respect myself more as well. I had most certainly found a new respect for my father. My thoughts were interrupted by the swishing noise the cane made as dad tested it through the air. It sounded frightening to me and I am sure it did little for Peter's confidence.
"Now Peter, as this is your first caning I am only going to give you four strokes. You must stay down as you are and not move at all. You may not standup until I tell you to even if the caning has apparently finished. You must not make any unnecessary noise and try not to cry if you can. The punishment will hurt but will soon be over. If, however, you do move from your position then I will double the number of strokes that are still outstanding. If you move at the end you will receive a further two. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir" Peter's voice was very small. My father then touched Peter's bottom gently with the thin cane. I realised that this was the first time I had ever watched a boy being caned across his bottom in front of me. The event was making me very aroused. It was also the first time Peter had ever been caned and only twice before had been given the slipper but that was when he was younger than Christopher. The cane was brought up a little above shoulder height and then down with a terrific crack on the centre of Peter's small bottom. I saw the indentation across the grey flannel material of his shorts. Peter whimpered and gripped the arms of the chair tightly. I could see he was going to try and be brave. The second stroke was harder than the first and Peter cried out but stayed down. The third was lower down his bottom and obviously hurt the boy intensely. I am afraid he leapt up and clutched his bottom. He was crying freely.
"Oh dear, Peter. I do wish you had not done that. You must learn to be brave. I know you are a deal younger than Philip is but he took his thrashings properly. You will have to learn to do the same. Bend over the chair again."
Peter clambered over the back of the chair.
"Now, young man you were to get one more stroke but now you have an extra one for moving. Make sure you do not move again. If you do then I will be pulling your trousers down and you will feel this stick on your bare bottom"
Father then whacked Peter again. The boy was in great pain. I could tell. Then the fifth stroke was applied and Peter burst into tears again but he stayed down. After what seemed like an age but was only fifteen seconds, Peter stopped crying and was told to stand up. He got down off the chair and stood in front of his father who was holding out his hand.
"Boys, after I punish you I will always hold my hand out if I think you have taken your medicine properly. It is offered to you to shake it. If you do so it means that you have accepted your punishment in a proper spirit"
Peter gripped his father's hand
"Peter, you did well for your first caning. It hurts more than you ever imagined and you took the extra stroke for moving and I am sure you will try even harder next time to stay down, won't you."
Peter looked up to his father through his tears and still holding his hand.
"Thank you, Sir"