In my last year at school I decided that I didn't want to give all this up, so I decided to become a teacher. After the teacher training college, which was uninteresting as far as my punishment interests were concerned, I made a point of applying for jobs in the north of England. The reason was that corporal punishment was being phased out in schools and I reckoned that in the gritty north, the old ways would probably persist for some time. I was right.
I was interviewed for a boys' grammar school in Warrington. "D'ye play rugby?" was the first question from the burly headmaster, who wearing a rugby shirt and track suit bottoms. "Yes" I answered, truthfully. I had enjoyed rugby at school and had continued at teacher training college. "Good - you're halfway there already my lad" said the head in his rich Lancashire accent. "Do you believe in strict discipline?" "Yes, very much so" "And what's your idea of strict discipline then?" he said slightly sarcastically. "Well, to be honest I think there is no substitute for corporal punishment. I don't think lines or detentions work, wheras a sore backside does. It certainly worked as a deterrant for me and I think it works for boys today. I just don't think they respect other forms of discipline like corporal punishment. It may not be fashionable, but that's what I think". "Right" said the head "Well, here, we have two forms of discipline for the boys"
"I didn't mean I necessarily thought It was the only....." I started to say. He held his hand up. He reached down to a drawer. "This is the first" He slid the drawer open and slapped down on his desk a leather strap, split into three at the business end. "This is what we use" he paused " for minor offences" He opened a cupboard behind him and took out a traditional crook handled school cane, which he swished ominously through the air and said " and this is what they get across their backsides the rest of the time." He paused for effect. "When they come to see me they get both." He smiled grimly, Fantastic. I thought. I must get in here.
We talked for a while about education methods, which kept returning to the subject of discipline. The he said. "Well, you're doing well young man, I think there could be a place for you here. However I do have a rule with young masters that I'm taking on." Pause for effect again.... "and that's that they must be able to take the discipline they hand out" He held my gaze with steely eyes as he said it. He looked at me very hard. "Me included" he said. I decided not to answer. I went over to his clear desk and bent over it. I was wearing blazer and light grey worsted trousers. I lifted the rear flap of my blazer to expose my backside. I was prepared to take anything to get this job. "I shall give you twelve with the strap" I blenched internally. That sounded a lot "and six with the cane" That would qualify you for full punishment rights if you start. Please count each stroke before I give to indicate that you are fully ready for the next"
I visualised the thin grey fabric of my trousers stretched tautly over my muscular buttocks and thought what a tempting target I would find it, "One" I said. The leather tawse lashed down and connected perfectly with my backside. I visualised the three strips of leather parting and each delivering a hard stripe across both buttocks. The pain spread through me instantaneously. More Please. I thought "Two" I said. The next lash came down. Another wave of delicious pain. The leather tails of the tawse were curving round the contours of my broad, but muscular arse, willing presented with its thin covering of grey worsted. "Three" I called out clearly. The tawse lashed down again. This time the head had moved slightly so that the ends of the tails, which caused the most pain, hit a different part of my backside, the very crown of my right cheek. This was a beating with finesse. "Four" The next one was just the same but slightly lower. The pain was building up now as the split leather tails connected with an already beaten part of my backside. "Five" He placed a hand in the small of my back "Just ease up, lad, your trousers are just a bit too tight" I changed position to let my trousers be slightly less taut. The head must have moved a fraction again because the next stroke came down so that the ends of the strap tails bit deep into the crevice of my arse. Pure white hot pain. This was a master of his trade. He had made me slacken my trousers to allow the strap in between my buttocks. Clever. "Six" This should be in the same place but slightly lower if the pattern of the first four was repeated. I eased my trousers further so that the lashes could penetrate even further between my buttocks. I was fully erect now and was finding the pleasure of this beating sweeping over me. The strap came down again and this time my pleasure was overwhelming. I felt an erection building. He put the strap down. "I'll come back to you later, but if I'm right, there should be a knock on that door in a moment and I shall be needing this strap to put across another backside. I eased myself off the desk and massaged my buttocks. They felt red hot. I imagined they would be crimson by now. I had just regained my composure when there was a knock at his door. "Enter" the head called out loudly.
The door opened and in stepped a burly schoolboy. He was wearing rugby kit with a blazer over. "Well?" said the head "Smoking" said the boy. "I've had to beat you for smoking before haven't I" "Yes Sir" "What did I give you last time" "It were six wit' strap and six wit' cane, Sir". The big lad said in his deep northern accent, rubbing his bottom ruefully. "Obviously the punishment was inadequate. I shall have to make it more painful this time, won't I?" "Yes Sir" lad said in a low voice" " I shall give you eight with the strap and eight with the cane this time, blazer off and over the desk". The boy obeyed. The rugby kit was rugby league and when he bent over, his short blue shiny nylon shorts pulled up and the white elastic leg tapes of his jockstrap were plainly exposed. The head placed his hand on the boy's muscular backside. "Ease up a bit lad, shorts not so tight" The boy eased himself up taking his weight on his forearms. The head picked up the strap again and, flexing it between his meaty hands, took up his position well to the left of the boy's backside. The strap went up over the head's right shoulder and lashed down across the shiny blue shorts. I winced as the pistol crack erupted as the leather hit the thin nylon. The pain of my own beating came back to me and I thought that his pain must be that bit more intense with just the thin shorts between his backside and the strap compared with my trousers and underpants. I wondered why he bothered with a jockstrap as it still left his backside bare under his shorts. After each stroke I noticed the head shift position slightly to make sure that the boy's backside was evenly chastised including the subtle move to allow the strap to penetrate his buttock cleavage as he had done mine. I noticed that in the standing up position as I now was, this was particularly effective as my buttocks were now pressed together and the beaten flesh rubbed together painfully. Running down a rugby field in thiss condition must be a sensational experience, I thought. All too soon the boy's punishment with the strap was over, and the head replaced the strap on his desk, to be used again shortly, no doubt. to finish my own chastisement, and picked up the cane. "Shorts down, please" "No, not a caning on the bare arse surely" I thought.
The boy eased his shorts down and exposed his bared backside. The white legstraps and waistband of his jockstrap framed a brilliantly reddened arse with thin blue lines where the edges of the split end of the strap had bruised him. "Just checking he hasn't been caned already today. We don't give boys more than eight strokes of the cane in one day. When were you last caned lad?" "About a week ago Sir" "Lucky lad, well soon correct that. Pull your shorts back up" He wriggled his well built backside back into the thin shorts leaving the leg tapes of his jock on view again. The head swished the cane a couple of times though the air before bring it down hard across the boy's backside. The pain from that hard cane stroke on those reddened, freshly leathered buttocks must have been intense, but the boy uttered not a sound. The only noises for the next minute or so were the whistling of the cane through the air and the crack as it lashed down on the boy's blue nylon covered bottom. The eighth and last stroke was the hardest of the lot and elicited a deep grunt from the boy leaning across the desk, obediently presenting his backside for punishment. "Right lad, you can go now" He big lad eased himself painfully off the desk and placed his hands gingerly on his beefy, soundly beaten backside. He rubbed it gently at first and then more vigorously, blinking back a trace of moisture from his eye and saying with a half grin "Thank you Sir". I opened the door for him to leave so that he could continue to furiously massage his backside on which I knew from personal experience, the weals would be coming up fast from his caning, and he would not want to stop rubbing for the rest of the day. It came flooding back to me how, after a good caning, the initial excruciating agony soon gave way to curious warm glow of pleasure which persisted long after the pain, and which could be renewed by judicious squeezing of the weals left by each cane stroke. This, I recalled from my schooldays, I best enjoyed doing through just a thin pair of cotton pt shorts.
"Bit of a hard case that one" said the head. "He knows and I know that I've had to beat him umpteen times for smoking and by now I should be suspending him each time not simply thrashing his backside. He's been over that desk a dozen times for eight with the strap and eight with the cane, which is the maximum I can give him. The next punishment up is suspension, but he knows and I know that I won't suspend him cos he's the best bloody rugby player in the school and I don't want to lose him from the team. So about once every two or three weeks he goes over my desk and takes a good beating. He likes showing his marks to his friends. Makes him a hard man, As if he wern't bloody hard enough. Bet he's showing them off now. He turned round a monitor on his desk which showed a view of the corridor outside the head's office. Two boys were looking at a backside which had had a pair of blue shorts pulled down to reveal a bright red arse with blue weals across it, framed by a white jockstrap. How did I guess, he said chuckling "Some things never change. I always used to do that - show off your marks, did you. I take it you did have your arses thrashed regularly down south "."We certainly did Sir, and me more than most I'm afraid. I seemed to spend half my schooldays looking at the floorboards as I had my backside caned, And yes, I did like showing off my marks. Best bit. Are those boys new customers?" "I do believe they are. Let's get the next in." He flung the door open "Pull your shorts up Smith. Next in here please" Smith's well punished bottom disappeared into the blue nylon shorts and another boy in rugby kit went in behind the head. "Well?" "Three in a row Sir" "Over the desk" The boy took his blazer off and bent over the desk. Again jockstrap tapes came into view as he stretched across the leather topped desk. The head smoothed his shorts across his buttocks, picked up the strap and stepped back. The three leather thongs came down hard across the boy's waiting bottom. The head stepped back again and brought the strap crashing down again. I winced as I heard the loud crack. The head stepped back again, flexed the strap and brought it down so the the tips penetrated the buttock cleavage. The boy grunted. "That one hit the spot, eh lad. Good" The strap went back on the desk and he picked up the cane. He swished it through the air and then brought it down hard across the boy's freshly strapped bottom. "Not been caned today already have you boy? "Three from Mr Reed Sir" "Well I'm only going to give you four so that's alright, but just drop your shorts, The boy eased himself up off the desk and slipped his blue nylon rugby league shorts down. His backside was red from the strap, had a white line across it from the last cane stroke and had three blue black weals from the earlier caning. All was framed by the white jockstrap waist belt and leg straps. "OK. Shorts up" The head continue the boy's caning. The three remaining strokes coming down with pistol cracks across his shiny blue shorts. "Right you can go now lad" The boy got off the desk and rubbed his backside furiously" "Thnku Sir. Shall I send Wilson in now, he's waiting to be caned as well" "In a minute lad. I want a word with this gentleman first. In fact tell him to go away and come back in ten minutes." The head said this looking a me. He still had the cane in his hand. I suspected that he did not intend to put it down before he had dealt with me. "Very good Sir" the boy said still massaging his bottom, and left the room. On the monitor we saw him talk to the waiting Wilson, pull his shorts down and display his buttocks. Again the livid flesh was dramatised by the whiteness of his jockstrap.
"Why do they wear jockstraps when they are going to be caned? Since it leaves your buttocks bare I can't see the point of wearing one under your shorts if your'e going for a caning." I asked the Head "Good question. Jockstraps have become a big thing here in the last couple of years. In my day we didn't wear anything under our shorts for rugby or pt or anything and I can't say I remember it being a problem. I suppose the shorts were a bit longer then. Anyway about three years ago the sports masters noticed a trend for boys to wear underpants under their shorts. He was quite rightly very cross about this as it is clearly stupid to put wet, sweaty and muddy underpants back on after a game of rugby, after you've had a shower or bath. It's just downright unhygienic. So he took them to task over it and some of the smart alecs said that they brought spare underpants to put on after the game and the others joined in with that excuse. Of course this wasn't the case really and they were just trying to be clever. We all thought this was being rather cissy, and we didn't want the school getting that sort of reputation when the lads went to play away matches so I introduced a rule that it was either jockstraps under shorts or nothing. I explained that the jockstrap had been specifically designed for wearing under sports shorts and that all professional sportsmen used a jockstrap. I had played Rugby League for Warrington and I assured them that under every pair of Warrington shorts they'd find a 'Litesome' jockstrap, Litesome being the team strip sponsors. This was quite true. We had a chap in charge of strip and when you went to change for a match, carefully laid out underyour numbered peg would be your kit. It was even arranged in the order you would put it on. The socks would be at the bottom, shorts next, jersey and right on top - your jockstrap, the first thing to go on. Anyway from then on it was jockstraps under shorts here or nothing. Most of the boys went back to nothing, which was perfectly OK. I didn't wear a jockstrap myself until I started training with Warrington. Of course when I saw all the big lads - my heroes - pulling on jockstraps I went straight round to the sports goods shop and got myself one. Anyway the turning point was when a big match - Warrington v Widnes was televised and an old boy Lee Penney was playing. Of course the whole school was watching, and there was an incident where Penney was involved in a bit of a punch up. During the course of this Penney shorts got pulled up at one side and what should we be treated to but the sight of his bare arse cheek and the leg tape of his jockstrap. This was then action replayed about four times from different camera angles, in slow motion and close up. It was then repeated on all the local tv news bulletins and Penney's bared arse and jockstrap become famous. Then a few minutes later another Warrington player was pulled off a loose maul by his shorts by a team mate and this time it was two bare arse cheeks and two leg tapes. This happened a couple more times with different players and the result was a run on jockstraps in the local sports shop and no boy would be caught dead on the rugby pitch without a jockstrap. And they like every one to know they've got one on. The school kit shorts are quite short - modelled by popular demand on the Warrington strip - but the lads roll the waist band over and make them shorter, with the effect you saw when they bend over. Anyroad that enough of that - time for the second part of your initiation, your backside's got an appointment with my cane!" he said whistling the cane he was still holding through the air. "I think I'll give it to you in shorts since it's traditional here" he said and pulled a pair of the school's shiny blue nylon rugby shorts out a desk drawer and handed them to me. The erection which had started during my strapping had become more and more intense and was now absolutely rock hard at the prospect of a good caning. There was no way, therefore, that I could change into a thin pair of nylon shorts without embarrasing myself in the extreme. "Since the jockstrap seems to be part of the uniform shouldn't I have one on too, headmaster?" "Well, like you say it doesn't make much difference in the target area, but I think I know why you might want one", he said glancing at my crutch. My boxer shorts were doing little to conceal matters under my trousers. I'm already changed for rugby as you can see, but think I should have a spare. He rummaged in the drawer where the shorts had come from and chucked a clean white jockstrap at me. I caught it. It was a well washed jock with a soft cotton pouch and tapes with frayed coverings. It had clearly seen plenty of active service. You may find it a bit loose, but it'll be better than nothing." I took off my shoes and loosened my belt. I turned away and dropped my trousers and pants. I pulled on the jockstrap. It was a bit loose but what I had to pack into it took considerably more room that it was designed for. The soft pouch felt good against my bollocks and hard _c_o_c_k_. I pulled up the nylon shorts. They felt cool and thin against my hot backside as I instinctively cupped my freshly strapped buttocks. They felt terrific. I fingered the leg tapes of the jockstrap which accentuated that bareness of my bottom between them. "Take you shirt off. I'll give a linesman's one to wear after. You can help out with the game. I'll make sure the marks don't show. Over the desk please" I pulled my shirt over my head and stretch across his desk as I had seen the boys do before. The leather top felt cool against my bare chest and I gripped the sides hard. The cane was swished though the air a couple of times. I was sweating. "CRRAAACK" the first stroke landed. It was like a searing brand. "CRRAAACK" the second one landed before I had had time to recover - even more painful, which I had hardly thought possible. I felt a hand smoothing my shorts down. "CRRAAACK" This was hard to take, but I was determined not to fail this test. I had to work here. "OK lad? " asked the head "Yes Sir, carry on" "Oh, I was going to don't you worry" "CRRAAACK" "You're supposed to counting lad" "Four" I said through gritted teeth "Nay lad, back to two for forgetting " "Two" I said "Good lad" "CRRAAACK" "Three" The remaining strokes were laid on like fire on fire, but my determination to make a good showing carried me through. At last it stopped. In a way I was relieved, but in another I was sorry not to be submitting to punishment any more.
The head then punished the remaining boys, even allowing me to cane one of them. After I had administered a good sound thrashing with the strap and the cane to yet another beefy lad in rugby kit (both him and me). The headmaster suddenly rememberthat he hadn't finished my initial strapping. So it was over the desk once again. Down came my shorts and my jockstrapped arse was inspected before being lashed again with six of his best with the three tailed strap. I was later appointed to the staff. More of which later. Let me know what you think of this.