I made all my regular announcements in the school assembly, then paused, meaningfully. The six hundred boys in the hall knew what to expect - I always saved bad news for last. These young lads, aged from eight to thirteen, knew that when I grew grave at the end of an assembly, somebody was going to get his little backside thrashed.
"Gentlemen," I began, "we have a rather worrying trend starting in the grade six section of the school, and I intend to put a stop to it today."
I looked at the little faces looking up at me expectantly.
"Two lads have taken to helping themselves to exam papers out of teacher's files, copying them and distributing them to the other boys."
You could have heard a pin drop in the large hall.
"Those two youngsters know who they are, as do I. I give them the chance now to stand up before you all, and report to my office for hidings of a severity that has not been administered by me for some time. Or, they can wait for me to call them out by name, and face expulsion."
Our primary school for boys was very exclusive, and every boy was proud to be a part of it. Being expelled would be like a death sentence to them, so I was pretty certain that the two lads involved would choose a sound caning. i also did not particularly want to get rid of these two - they were good boys generally, and valuable sportsmen, who had made a grevious, but not unforgivable, mistake.
There was a pause, then a movement near the back of the hall caused some of the younger boys to turn around. Cavin, a brown haired boy, had stood up, and was making his way to the doors. Motivated by Cavin's action, Shaun, an atttractive blond swimmer - shorter than Cavin, but just as well built for his age, followed him out. I had guessed correctly. Both had chosen to bear the pain of my cane across their eleven year old bottoms, than face the consequences of expulsion. Although I was angry with them for their crime, I was also proud that they were willing to face just punishment.
I handed the assembly over to my deputy head, who made the rest of the day's announcements, then dismissed the school to their classes. I chose to make the miscreants in my office wait, and had a slow cup of coffee in the staff common room before strolling down to my study.
I opened the heavy door, stepped in, and closed it softly behind me. The first thing that I noticed were two pairs of dark blue uniform shorts folded neatly and placed on my desk. On one pair, pale blue underpants had been neatly placed, and on the other, dark green underpants had been left. To the left of my desk, facing the wall, stood Cavin. I could just make out the lower curve of his bare bottom beneath his shirt, standing out white against his darkly tanned legs. To the right of the desk, also facing the wall, was Sahun. His shirt was longer, so it completely hid his little behind. Although he was as darkly tanned as Cavin, his blond complexion meant that his bottom was somewhat whiter, and I could make it out beneath his shirt tails.
Although I frequently caned boys on their underpants, it had been a long time since I had given a bare bottom hiding. The fact that these two had removed even their underpants, without prompting, showed that they were ready to accept and submit to some serious punishment, and understood the serious nature of their transgression.
I strode over to my cupboard and opened it, examining my selection of junior canes. I took a few out and swished them through the air - more for the benefit of the two boys awaiting my attention. As I tested each cane in the air, it made a loud humming noise, and twice I whacked a cushion just to make a bit of a show of things. I noticed the two boys clenching their buttocks which each sound effect in anticipation of what was to come. Hidings from me, as both knew from painful experience, were no laughing matter.
Finally, I made my choice. I selected a slender Rattan cane, about the length of my arm, and the thickness of my index finger. I do not have traditional handles on my canes - they tend to get in my way. The weapon of choice would give these two bare young bottoms a mighty sting to learn their lesson by.
"Right boys, come here,"
The two lads turned around and came to stand before me. Although their shirts protected them, they still placed their hands nervously in front of them. Neither could meet my eyes - they were making a very close examination of my deep pile carpet.
"Before I begin, can you think of any reason why I should not give each of you a very severe hiding, gentlemen?"
"No sir," was the answer that both gave, quietly, shaking their heads.
"Very well. Shaun, you will be first. Bend over the hiding chair."
Obediently, Shaun walked over to the old, overstuffed leather armchair that I used for all major hidings (hence its name), turned it around and bent over the back of it. Both boys had been over it before, so he knew the procedure, although neither had had more than five strokes on his underpants. The boy kept his feet a uniform metre apart and leant forward, hands grasping the end of the seat of the chair. This put his eleven year old bottom right up, the perfect height for my cane swinging arm.
I had to push Shaun's long school shirt right up and out of the way, fully exposing his tender, white bottom. He shuffled his feet for a few seconds, then held still, his strong young legs holding up his delicate looking little behind.
"Cavin, please bring me the cane."
The brown haired boy walked back to my desk, retrieved the implement of school boy punishment, handing it to me with reverence usually reserved for valuable religious artifacts.
I tapped the cane lightly on Shaun's bottom, watching the goose bumps appear on the naked flesh. I caned the boy hard, using the end of the cane which travels fastest to make contact with his little bum, letting it linger as I completed my follow through. Shaun sobbed, and jerked with the obvious pain. When I lifted the cane, a white welt appeared, but quickly turned to red, halfway down the white cheeks of his bottom. I paused, allowing the pain to really sink in, then administered the next lash, right below the first. The reaction from the boy was the same, and now he had two parallel stripes, one directly below the first, with no white flesh showing between them.
I continued caning Shaun in the same manner - slowly, meticulously working down his little bottom, and whipping the stick very hard against my bare target. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Cavin was already gently rubbing his own bottom, in anticipation of trading palces with his friend. Although Shaun squirmed and cried in agony as I laid on the thrashing, he did not dare to move the position of his hands or feet, or try to move his poor bottom away from the path of my cane.
I stopped after six strokes, stepping back to inspect the damage that I was inflicting. The six stripes started halfway down the boy's little tail, and ended, without any white flesh between the welts, just after three quarters of the way down, where the flesh is really becomming tender. Enough for now.
"Shaun, get up. Cavin, your turn. Bend over."
Gratefully, Shaun pushed himself off the chair, and immediately reached behind for his fiery bottom. Then he remembered the rules about never rubbing a caned bottom in the Headmaster's office, and took his hands away. I took pity on the crying boy.
"You can rub your bottoms today, boys. These are very severe hidings."
Without a second invitation, Shaun grasped his bum cheeks in both hands and massaged them gingerly.
I turned my attention back to Cavin. As his shirt was shorter than Shaun's, his bottom was exposed straight away. But I still pushed it well up his back. Cavin's behind was slightly bigger and chubbier than his friends, but it looked no less tender and delicate.
I lost no time in beginning with Cavin's hiding, whipping his bottom in the same manner as I had Shaun's. The yelps and cries from the pre-teen boy showed me that I was indeed making a lasting, memorable impression, not limited to the stripes that I was painting on the tender flesh. I had to admire this little eleven year old boy, for stoically presented his bare bottom, as the excrutiating pain built up.
After Cavin's first six, I again stopped. I had made a similar pattern on his exposed behind, leaving the lowest quarter of his bare bottom for the next setion of his hiding. On my word, he leapt up, grabbing his stinging rear end. I let the boys rub their sore bottoms for a few more minutes, then continued with their punishments.
"Right, Shaun, bend over. Let's get this over with."
Tearfully, but obediently, Shaun once again bent over the chair, assuming his compromising position, and once again I lifted up his shirt tails to expose his now red and white bottom to my cane. I continued the hiding where I had left off, woking mercilessly, despite the crying from the boy, down the lowest and most tender part of his prepubescent bottom. The room was filled with the yelping of Sahun, the gentle sobing of Cavin, and the methodical snap of my cane across bared boy buttocks. I placed the fifth lash right in the crease where bottom meets legs, extracting a howl from the punished boy, then I gave him his sixth stroke in exactly the same spot. I could see that it took every inch of will power not to leap up then and there. Placing my hand on Shaun's back, I lifted the cane and whipped him diagonally across all twelve stripes, then let him squirm for a few more seconds.
When I ordered him up, Shaun leaped off the chair, and danced around my office, wailing and hanging onto his injured region. Without being told, Cavin slowly bent his half naked young body over the back of the chair for the continuation of his punishment.
His strudy young legs trembled as I gently tapped the cane just below the lowest stripe of the first part of his hiding. I caned him hard, smacking the stick vigorously across his boy bottom. I had noticed that the first six stripes were already showing signs of bruising, but I was determined to make the second part of his hiding the most memorable.
Unfortunately, on the fourth stroke, cavin could not resist the urge to leap up and grab his burning bottom. He quickly bent over again, but the damage had been done, and he knew the consequences. Without a word, I put the cane down, and took off my leather belt. I doubled it and lashed it six times across the tender, stripped flesh before me. Every time the leather bit across his injured bottom, Cavin pushed his hips into the chair, trying to avoid the sting of the belt. When I had finished, I wordlessly replaced my belt, retrieved the cane and gave Cavin his two hard lashes in the crease of his bottom. Then I administered a merciless diagonal stripe, eliciting a scream from the whipped little boy. But now he kept still until I allowed him up.
I got firm promises from the two crying eleven year olds never to cheat again, then sent them to class. They could fetch their shorts and underpants from me at the end of the school day. I wanted the rest of the boys to have a good look at the consequences of cheating.