Micheal Conlon had in his book severely punished two boys, Keith Morrow and William Scott for frigging each other a week earlier. As well he had mentioned the matter to the discipline master, Brother Raymond. Brother Raymond had given him some advice.
"Micheal, when you detect sins of the flesh you must bring the culprits to me. I will deal with them. We half expect them to get up to experimenting, after all their hormones are going at full blast and there are no girls about for them to get after. If they are caught masturbating by themselves, just tell them to be discrete, however any group activity has got to be stopped."
"Thank you Brother, I'm sure those two wont offend again. I've given them sore enough bums to make sitting down uncomfortable for a few days."
"Oh, well see, it is often the quiet ones that are the trouble, and those two are quiet, very quiet. Get them into sports as well as music."
So, as Micheal went into the changing room after coaching a rugby game, he saw Morrow and Scott walking towards their lockers. Both pairs of buttocks were black and blue from the combination of cane and strap, and on both you could still see the six paralleled lines left from the cane.
"Bottoms still a bit tender," asked Micheal as he went past them.
"Yes Sir, Morrow replied. Micheal left them and went on to shower and change before going back to take prep after dinner.
After dinner he went to take prep and found his two star pupils missing. Dinner had been over for thirty minutes. Getting one of the older boys to look after the room and promising a thrashing to anyone that misbehaved, he left the building and went out into the grounds. He found Morrow and Scott just about in the same place that he had found them last time, laying on the ground together. Both were fully dressed and as he came upon them they sprang apart. Scott had been crying.
"What is going on here? A pause, "I'm waiting for an answer boys. Why are you crying Scott?"
"Please Sir, those boys on the team were nasty to me, and called me a p p pansy, just because I'm not good at footy."
"Look go and clean yourself up and then go to prep. After prep I'll see you both in my room for a chat." Morrow you too. You have five minutes, any longer and I'll warm up your tails again, now get moving." Both boys ran off across the grass to the building while Micheal made his way back to the class room where prep was being held.
After prep both boys reported to Micheal's room looking a little apprehensive. However there was no cane or tawse on the desk so they breathed a little easier.
Micheal talked to the two boys for nearly thirty minutes explaining that not every one is good at everything, that some people are good at sport and learning, but cant sing a note in tune. "It is the way you are made, by the Heavenly Father," he went on, "however if you don't try your best, even if you are not good at something, then you deserve it if you get called names. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you both?"
"I think so Sir," said Scott.
"You, Morrow?"
"Yes Sir."
"Ok, head for the showers, and remember behave yourselves." The boys left the room and Micheal settled down to get lessons ready for the next day. As well as music and assisting at sports, he was now teaching history to the three junior classes and quite enjoying it.
A couple of weeks went by and the end of the term was looming in the distance. Some of the boys were starting to get a little cheeky and Micheal had threatened to thrash them and usually that was enough. Most remembered seeing Morrow and Scott's backsides after the last time and didn't want the same.
Autumn was approaching and Micheal decided to take his favourite walk through the copse to the riverbank before dinner, while the boys had free time from the last period of the day and dinner. He had just reached the riverbank when he was distracted by a noise over to his right. Hurrying through the trees he found Morrow and Scott struggling on the ground while a pair of bigger boys from the sixth form were on top of them. Fighting was strictly prohibited.
"What is going on here?" As the group came apart, Micheal found he was face to face with Callum Hawking who was as big as he was. Rumour among the Brothers was, that he was a bully. The other sixth former was Jack O'Reilly. There was nothing said by anyone.
"Alright, clean yourselves up for dinner and after prep I will see the four of you in my room."
At 8pm there was a knock on the door of Micheal's room and a procession of boys came through the door, led by Scott.
"Well have you four got anything to say this time, now that you have had time to cool off and think about what you were doing."
"No Sir," from Morrow.
"No Sir," said Scott.
Hawking just stood there with a slightly bored look on his face, while O'Reilly had a smirk.
Micheal waited for them to say something. "Well gentlemen fighting in any shape or form, is prohibited unless it is supervised in the ring in the gym. You Hawking and O'Reilly, because you are bigger than Morrow and Scott and weigh more than them, I consider that you were bullying as well. Do you have anything to say now."
Again there was no reply from the two bigger boys.
"Very well, I want the four of you over by the window." Micheal went to his desk and took out the heavy tawse. "Morrow over here, take down your shorts and bend over and touch your toes. Eight strokes landed on the thinly protected backside. Micheal could see the flesh reddening under the stretched white cotton briefs. They weren't the best Micheal could give, but they were hard enough to make Morrow squirm, but he didn't cry out.
"Get up Morrow and get dressed, Scott over here, shorts down and bend over touching your toes."
Morrow pulled up his shorts and walked back over to the older boys rubbing his backside, while Scott came over to take his place. Scott hesitated a moment, looked at Micheal then with a sigh turned his back to him and pushed his shorts down to his ankles and bent over in the classic position.
Micheal looked at the young bottom arrayed before him in stretched white cotton and brought down the belt. This time he went quickly, hardly pausing between the strokes. Scott had hardly no time to squirm or yell before the eight strokes were delivered and he was being told to stand and get dressed. Wincing as he pulled up his shorts he also made his way over to the others.
There was a pause ..... "O'Reilly bring the chair over here , place it with the back against my desk. I want you to take your trousers down and kneel on the chair then rest your chest on my desk." While O'Reilly was carrying out those instructions, Micheal replaced the tawse in his desk and got out the senior cane from the cupboard and flexed it a couple of times. He swished it through the air getting the balance and the right position to hold it correctly. By now O'Reilly was in position and Micheal and the other boys could see he was trembling.
If Morrow and Scott's backsides were pleasing to look at, O'Reilly's looked fantastic. He was wearing non regulation bikini briefs that left most of the buttocks bare and the fading tan lines showed how small his swimming togs must have been. Micheal reflected that O'Reilly had the classic bubble butt.
"You will have twelve of the best." Without any further words being said Micheal started to lay on the strokes. At first O'Reilly stayed still, but after the fourth stroke he was gasping and by the sixth, he let out a shuddering cry. Micheal had reached the crease with the sixth stroke and decided to work his way down the buttocks again. Because of the skimpy briefs he was able to see clearly where to lay the strokes without overlapping. The raised welts going from pink to bright red on the bare flesh that was not covered. So far there was no blood flowing.
By the ninth stroke O'Reilly was crying continuously, but stayed down until the twelfth had fallen and then took a minute to rise. Micheal could see that he was at the end of his tether and said, "Get dressed and go and join the others."
"You're not going to cane me like that," stated Hawking from the window.
"You will accept my punishment or I will send for Brother Raymond."
"I don't care who you send for, I'm not going to be caned by you for knocking some cheeky young tuggers...."
"I think you have said enough, Hawking." Going to the phone Micheal dialed Brother Raymond's extension. In a few terse sentences he outlined what had happened up to now.
Brother Raymond said, 'I will be with you shortly' and hung up. Micheal put down the phone and started filling in the punishment register. He had barely finished writing up O'Reilly's caning when there was a knock on the door and Brother Raymond swept into the room.
"Mr. Conlon has sent for me boys because one of you has refused to be punished by him. Furthermore one of you was the instigator of a bullying incident. Now which of you was it? You O'Reilly?"
O'Reilly still rubbing his backside with one hand, "No Brother Raymond."
"Very well, I have punished you two boys before for bullying and I thought that I had taught you both a lesson. Obviously I was wrong. How many has O'Reilly had Mr. Conlon?"
"Twelve Brother."
"Very good Mr. Conlon. Now O'Reilly go to my room and bring back the big tawse and my senior cane, you know where they are."
"Yes Brother." O'Reilly left the room.
"I take it Mr. Conlon that the two younger boys have been punished for their part of this?"
"Yes Brother, they've had eight with the heavy tawse on their underpants. I've written it up."
"Very good, ah here is O'Reilly," as he came through the door, "Lay them on the desk lad and join your fellow miscreants. Now Mr. Conlon are you right handed?" At Micheal's nod, he went on, "Good as I am left now here is what I propose for master Hawking. He will six of the tawse laid on alternatively from each of us, and then six of the cane, the same. All on his bare buttocks. We will have him bending over the desk. However before that we will practice on O'Reilly off first.
O'Reilly come to the front of the desk. Drop your trousers and your pants and bend over with your legs as far apart as they will go. Ah Mr. Conlon you've done a good job with the cane it will be a pleasure working with you. Now O'Reilly you have already had twelve with the cane so you have only twelve with the tawse to come. Ready?"
Micheal went to his drawer and got out the heavy tawse that had already done sterling duty that evening and stood at the left side of the bending O'Reilly, while Brother Raymond stood on his right. At a nod from Brother Raymond he raised the tawse and lashed it down, covering the crown the bared buttocks with the tails curling over the right flank. Brother Raymond did the same from the other side. O'Reilly gave a great shout as his buttocks ignited once more. Both Micheal and Brother Raymond kept up the attack until both had given their six strokes. O'Reilly had kept up his wailing, his backside a uniform angry dark red, especially the lower portion where most of the cane strokes had landed.
"Get up O'Reilly. Notice Mr. Conlon that bullies usually are the biggest cowards and make the most noise." O'Reilly got to his feet and bent over to pull his pants and trousers up whimpering anew as his tight bikini briefs rubbed against the ravaged flesh of his nether cheeks.
Brother Raymond turned to Hawking, "Are you going to take your punishment like a man or do you need to be held down boy?"
Hawking just stood there his face pale with beads of sweat standing out on his forehead. No doubt he was wishing that he had just got a caning and got it over, now he had both a caning and a tawseing to endure. He didn't move or say anything.
"Right lad you are not making it easy on yourself." Brother Raymond strode over to the petrified youth and grasping him by the shoulder dragged him to the front of the desk. He pushed Hawking down onto the top of the desk and then reached around his front and undid the belt and buttons and tugged down Hawking's trousers to his ankles.
"Morrow, you come and pull down Hawking's pants for him as he wont do it himself." Morrow did as requested leaving Hawking's lower half as bare as the day he was born. "Thank you Morrow. Now I want you to go and grasp Hawking's right hand on the other side of the desk, your mate Scott can grab the other. Now lads don't let go or you will get what is left over." Scott came over and both he and Morrow had a hand and arm each tightly held. Hawking was already shuddering and not a blow had fallen.
At Brother Raymond's nod Micheal raised the tawse for the first stroke. This time Micheal confined himself to Hawking's left cheek for four of the six strokes. The tails of the tawse biting into the soft flesh of the crevice dividing the cheeks, Brother Raymond doing the same from the other side. However for the fifth and sixth strokes Micheal laid the tawse across the full target curling the tails around onto the right flank getting a shriek from Hawking at each stroke. Hawking's backside was a uniform scarlet.
After a minutes rest they picked up the canes. Working from the crown of the buttocks down to the crease, both Micheal and Brother Raymond made sure that not a square inch of the available flesh was not well tanned. As the twelfth stroke, a diagonal stroke across all the others, fell Hawking went silent. Through out the beating he had kept up a continual cry of sobs and promises not to bully again. Brother Raymond went to the desk and looked at Hawking, nodding to Morrow and Scott he motioned them back to their place at the window.
Hawking's buttocks were a mess. They were bleeding in several places, specially on the diagonal stroke, and already were turning purple where the tawse had landed.
"As I was saying Mr. Conlon, bullies make the biggest cowards and make the most noise." With that he picked up the cane and tawse and swept out of the room. Apart from Hawking sniffing as he tried to repress his sobs, the room was silent.
"Right lads, let that be a lesson to you all, now off to the showers the lot of you. I'll be along to check on you shortly."
As the boys left his room, Micheal was thinking they will all be sleeping on their stomachs tonight, and the two big boys for several nights. As he was leaving his room to check on the boys progress, the phone rang.
It was Brother Raymond, "Come along to my room for a chat and a drink." Micheal didn't know whether it was a command or an invitation..................