"Report yourself to the Head immediately after school!" commanded Mr. Beales as I slunk back into my seat replying merely "yes sir". Well I knew it had been too good to last, however it was a personal best. I had made it a full four and a half months into the school year without a caning from Prats.
Before class, Jennings had begged me to loan him my assignment so he wouldn't get into trouble and Beales walked in and saw him copying it and asked whose work it was and I had to admit it's mine because it was in my notebook with my name on it. So now both of us were in for it.
So at 3:15 p. m. on the dot Jennings and I reported ourselves. In the outer office were three lower boys who were sitting on the bench looking as if they were about to be executed whereas Jennings and I had both been through this countless of times over the years so I said "Who died?" to which one of them, a chubby little blond named Scully says "us in a few minutes". So I attempted to comfort the little guys by saying "Hey cheer up, it's not so bad, I been here dozens of times, it doesn't even hurt anymore". Then the door opened and the headmaster, Mr. Prats, looked us over and replied "Very well, Jennings and Broullet I'll deal with you two first. He always "dealt" with the upper form boys first so he could be fresh and so the lower boys would hear.
Jennings went first. Not much discussion or ceremony really. It was very routine. Jennings removed his blazer and placed it over the back of a chair and then undid his belt and lowered his trousers to his ankles and positioned himself then reached back and lowered his underwear as well and grabbed hold of the far-side of the desk as he had always done before. Prats said nothing as we already knew the rules of the game. Any calling out, jumping up, or moving your hands or feet out of place and the entire caning would be repeated the following day after school. The only thing Prats said upon us entering the room was "Jennings, your first". We had no idea what we would be in for until it was administered and he would finally say those glorious words "very well, your done....that is until next time!" He was very consistent and never changed a word as it was always the same "Very well, your done....that is until next time!" He said it in a matter of fact manner that chilled you to your bones more so than if he would have said it in a threatening manner, as if it was a foregone conclusion....there will be a next time!
Watching Jennings I could see exactly what I was going to get. It was a solid two dozen, deliberate and evenly spaced, but nothing to fear and when it was my turn I was quite joyous as it barely hurt at all. Prats was certainly softening in his advancing years, for I had certainly had much, much worse for much, much lesser offenses.
So as I bound out of the office quite content with my good fortune I said to the lower boys "Sounds a lot worse than it really is....it barely hurt at all!" What I didn't realize was Mrs. Prats was sitting behind the door waiting for her husband to finish so they could head off to an early dinner engagement. "Young man, what is your name?" "Ahh....Bruillet Mrs." "well of all the cheek. How dare you speak of my husband like that. I'm sure he will be happy to know he hasn't punished you quite enough. Report yourself at once!" she commanded. "Yes Mrs. Prats, I'm terribly sorry." "I'm sure you will be."
So as I was about to knock on the headmaster's door he opened it to call in the three lower boys. "Mr. Bruillet, what are you still doing here?" "Sir I'm terribly sorry, but as I was leaving your office I saw these boys and they looked so pitiful I wanted to cheer them up so I told them not to worry and that it sounds a lot worse than really is...." "Why are you telling me this?" "Well, Mrs. Prats overheard me and told me to report myself." "I see....and where is Mrs. Prats?" "She's behind the door sir." "Oh yes the dinner....I'm sorry dear....I'll finish with these boys as fast as I can and I'll be right with you." "Oh no rush, take your time....that boy deserves whatever he gets, besides it'll make a story for dinner". "Very good....very well, I'll deal with all four of you together."
So once again I entered the office followed by the three boys, Scully, Reuther and Flenner. "So it sounds worse than it really is?" "Oh no sir. I swear I was only trying to make them feel better, it hurt something awful....I got the welts to prove it." "I know you do, and you'll have a sight more before we are through." "yes sir." "Do you know why these boys are here?" "no sir" " They left school grounds without permission and purchased pastries from the bakery in clear violation of school rules, they had very good reason to look pitiful and feel bad, but apparently this is their lucky day, for a good Samaritan has come along willing to endure there punishments for them, what do you say Broullet?" "Please sir!" I began to beg when my own words came to haunt me "Why not....it sounds a lot worse than it really hurts." Defeated I replied "Yes sir, thank you sir"
Then he turned to the boys "But don't think you're getting off Scott free, you have violated not one but several school rules and by leaving school grounds made the school liable....no matter how much I would love to punish Mr. Broullet in your place, you boys must still be punished and severely at that. So very well Flenner you're first!"
The boy nervously removed his blazer and got into position fiddling with his belt as tears began to roll down his face. "None of that! Any calling out or flinching and It'll be double do you hear me?" "yes sir" the boy sniffled lowering his pants and underwear in one motion. He turned and straddled the desk, his fingertips barely reaching the far edge and his toes barely touching the floor. Then Prats lay down three dozen strokes - extremely hard and on target. The boy yelped and squirmed throughout, but luckily not enough to land him a repeat performance. As he got up his face was beet red and strewn with tears and his hands went immediately to his buttocks as he clutched it tightly bounding slightly in the air. As he bent over to raise his trouser, Prats ordered "Very well, Broullet your next".
I received three dozen strokes. They were considerably harder than Flenner's and much harder than ones I'd received only seven minutes before. Then came Reuther and another sharp three dozen strokes. The boy took them gloriously without a sound and rose up, pulled up his trousers and not a tear was visible. It was extremely impressive actually. Then to my horror Prats said "Very Well Broullet it's your turn again". And I was back down for another three dozen cuts of the cane, each one sharper than the one before. Still I managed to take them without crying, even though it had now been 8 dozen strokes I rationalized if that kid can take it so can I. In that moment I loved that little boy whom I didn't even know and the most important thing in the world to me was not to cry in front of him.
Then came Scully, he too took his punishment like it was no great effort though I knew how much each stroke was cutting into his fleshy butt. Then when it was over he just stayed there for what seemed like forever unable to move and then slowly lifted himself up and as if in slow motion clutched his butt and hobbled a few feet before dropping to lift up his pants and only when he got them to the edge of his bottom let out a slow "owwwwwwwwwww" as he lifted them and zipped them up. It was then that he sobbed lightly and tears began to well over out of his eyes onto his chubby, lightly freckled cheeks.
Then, in spite of my prayers I heard "Very well Broullet, one more to go". It was then that I too felt tears beginning to well and I begged "Please sir, couldn't you?...." "Couldn't I what?" "Oh.....nothing sir, I'm sorry, really I am and I've definitely learned my lesson." "That's very good, but there is still one more to go." "yes sir". I slowly lowered my pants once again and looked Reuther in the face for some form of encouragement, but he too seemed to be wiping away tears. In that moment I absolutely hated him more than I have ever hated anyone in my life. I knew I couldn't take it. I was going to cry like a baby in front of these little kids. Then I said it "Please sir, You can't, I can't take anymore....if you have to do it, can't I please get them tomorrow?" "Stop it! I will not hear another plea. Now get back down and may god help you if you so much as move a muscle I will do it tomorrow." "yes sir, sorry sir." He then lay down the final three dozen strokes with tremendous power and expertise. It took every bit of strength I could muster but I was restored in my conviction not to cry. I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth and concentrated all of my energy on my hands as the clutched the desk. In my head I saw the boys and imagined it was them being beaten again and not me at all. Flenner with his flattop, sandy hair and puppy dog face squirming across the desk his smooth, hairless, thick calves flexing as his feet struggle to barely reach the floor. Scully with his straight blond hair with brown roots, his smooth round belly flopping on the desk as he raised his shirt and his large, perfectly round cheeks with those deep crimson whelps appearing instantly with each successive stroke. And my rock....Reuther with his wavy dark mop of hair and squatty body eyes closed and teeth clenched without a tear. How incredible still he lay there, his entire body except his hands and teeth relaxed as if he were in a state of tranquillity instead of pain. If these three could endure it, so could I. Then as the final strokes were being applied with unbearable precision my mind fixated on the sheer mathematics of the thing. I would be able to say I endured 132 strokes from Prats without a single tear. I would become a god. At that last stroke I felt immortal. Then I heard those glorious words...."Very well, you're done....until next time."
As I opened my eyes and turned my head I could see those three boys looking at me and it was exactly as I had envisioned it. They looked at me as if they were looking in the eyes of pop superstar. It was truly a wonderful feeling. My entire body was on fire, but I was a deity. As I got up I whisked them a smile that said "Sounds a lot worse than it really feels....didn't hurt a bit!" But the fire in all of our butts told us the real truth.
Leaving the office I could hear Mrs. Prats snickering. So I turned and said " I'm very sorry Mrs. Prats. Please forgive my impertinence." "I trust this hurt even worse than it sounded?" "Yes Mrs. Prats. I trust it will hurt for sometime." "Lower your trousers all of you, I wish to see my husband's handi-work." We all looked at each other and then in unison lowered our trousers and turned around to let her inspect them. As we were bent over the door opened and we heard "What is the meaning of this display?" we shot up and lifted our trousers as Mrs. Prats replied "I wanted to see....the sight of it is truly remarkable, especially him, I don't think their is a single speck of skin that was spared....oh dear that one was quite low....did he flinch?" "Oh no, Mr. Broullet is far too stoic for that....I simply was off target" "I never heard any of them call out, I was sure I would" "No my dear, because they knew what would happen if they did" "Well I find the whole thing rather remarkable. When you and the other masters go on and on about it I could never understand the fascination, but next time I think I would like to be able to watch." "Certainly dear....well I suppose we should be going" "you know I've had the most marvelous idea. We should bring these boys with us to dinner. They can wait in the lobby and when Arnold begins bragging about his latest conquest you can relate the events of today and then show him up by parading them in to show off their wheals." "I don't know if it would be appropriate." "Who cares, just think of the look on everyone's face when you steal the spotlight for once." "Very well men, you heard my wife, you've been invited to dinner."
The dinner party was on the campus of a boy's boarding school some forty miles from our school. We were ordered to wait in the outer lobby of the dinning room. We stood around for close to an hour before a cart with some cheese, fruit and bread was offered us by a rather large matronly woman. This was served with tea. As we waited I spent the time talking to the boys. I quickly discovered they were complete hellions. Reuther had been before Prats' cane five times before. Scully three times and Flenner twice. The more we talked, the more I was convinced Reuther was me - a virtual clone only four years younger. He was in the middle of telling me the story of a man who worked for his father, and how this dirty old bugger once paid him his entire week's salary to let the old man spank him over his knee with his pants down. He said the guy spanked him with his hand for close to an hour and had a hard-on poking against his thigh the whole time. I had just asked him "what else did you let him do?" when we were called into the dining room.
In the room were two servants and the headmasters and their wives from four area schools. Mr. Prats took great pride in introducing us and making us lower our pants to show his colleagues his great accomplishment. Then he announced to us that it had been the common consensus of the other headmasters that the three boys had gotten off far to easy and that although I had been thoroughly punished, that as a senior more should be expected of me and that I had truly behaved unconscionably and that we all should be punished again.
It had been decided that each of us would be beaten another 12 times by each of the heads in lieu of desert. My mind quickly set once again to doing the math....another 48 strokes on top of the 132 I had already received. 180 must be some kind of record. Instead of terrifying me I had become exciting about the entire scenario. I was not only going to be beaten, but I would have the opportunity to see each of the boys beaten by four of the most accomplished and notorious caners in the region. I was quite accustomed to Prats. Could I endure these men on top of it all? I'm only half embarrassed to say that as we were placed into position over the table I became incredibly aroused.
The table was long and rectangular. We were placed so as I reached across the table I clutched Flenner's hands for support and Reuther clutched Scully's. Each man then took a turn around the table while the other men and their wives marveled about the subtle nuances about their technique and each boy's "bottom". Upon completion we were warned "Be very careful, because if you boys do anything whatsoever to get sent back to Prats office again, they might just schedule another diner party in our honors".
Even though seniors never "palled around" with the lower boys, the four of us became best of friends and spent quite a lot of time together from that night forward. In fact I invited Reuther to spend a week at my home over the Christmas holidays. I am pretty sure both of us knew going into it that it would end up with the two of us having _s_e_x_. That was all we ever talked about except canings. That first night together in my room we just started to wrestle and rip each other's clothes off until I had him pinned and ordered him to "go on suck it!" He did and then I did and we did each other all week long until I finally asked him "how much would I have to pay to spank you?" He told me "I'm in love with you....you can do anything you want to me."