"Yes Philip. How on earth did you know?" said my father as he sat down on my bed into which I had just climbed. It was a chilly night in early November and I had not yet had any chance to get warm. I had just turned over and was about to undo the chord of my pyjama trousers when my father came in the room and sat on my bed. I immediately sat up and asked him whether he has received a letter from school, a question that I did not need an answer to. It was all too plain that the letter he had been reading this morning was the one Turner had told me about on the bus that afternoon; the letter that had almost certainly prompted my father to give me my first ever caning, the effects of which were all to painful still.
"Turner told me that Grainger had told him about a letter Horace had sent out to all parents" I replied
"Horace?"
"Sorry I mean Mr Wright, the headmaster, Sir." I added the Sir but wondering whether I still had to. It had always been the rule when I was in trouble that I called my father Sir and he reminded me of that today.
"Well call him Mr Wright or the headmaster. Nicknames are acceptable between schoolboys but never use them in front of an adult"
"Yes Sir"
"Do you already know what the letter says?"
"Grainger's father showed it to him and it's about which parents want us to get the cane at school and to make us stay in short trousers and wear caps and things like that but I don't know the details"
"Well Philip, I don't see why you shouldn't read it because I took a decision this morning that you will find will affect you greatly over the next few years. The letter describes some of what things are going to be like for you and I trust for quite a few other boys at your school. Here you are, read it and I will return in five minutes", and my father took the letter from his inside pocket, handed it to me and left my bedroom.
I read the letter quickly. Then I read it again slowly and all sorts of things went through my mind. I might be going to get caned at school even in front of the class. My form master might be able do it with my trousers down and I knew Mr Jones will relish using a cane as he had never made any secret about being upset when the headmaster had to abolish caning. I wondered where he would cane me as he didn't have a study and the classrooms all had glass in the doors. I was going to have to stay in short trousers forever it seemed, at home as well and to go to school on Saturdays and wear a rotten stinking cap. Nobody wore a cap at my school any more, not even First Formers. Was the detention I was given earlier that day going to be the new way for an hour standing up on a chair with my hands on my head in front of the rest? Was I really going to have to start this tomorrow? I looked at my new short trousers and school socks on the chair by my bed and assumed I was. What's Turner going to say? What's everybody else going to think? Grainger's going to have a great laugh and what if I start in this club and not enough join will dad make me carry on alone?
I did not hear my father come back in. He must have been watching me reading the letter for some time. I read it over and over. Although I had fully recovered from crying from the stick about an hour and a half ago I now found tears welling up in my eyes as the import of this letter sank in.
"It makes interesting reading doesn't it?" said my father, making me jump. I wiped my eyes quickly on my pyjama sleeves but did not know how to answer, so instead asked a question:
"Have you made me join this club already?"
"Yes. Philip. In fact you are its very first member but so far I believe there are half a dozen. Six of the best, eh?"
I forced a weak smile. I knew I had to laugh at schoolmaster jokes and today my father was acting in his best schoolmasterly role, one that he perfected over several years with his slipper on my bottom. Now, however it was more serious as I had found out at last just how much six with a cane really hurt. My bottom was still really stinging and although it felt red-hot it was not the quite pleasant glow that came fairly soon after a sound slippering, but perhaps that would come later.
"Do I . . I mean, am I starting in the club straight away?" I asked.
"Partly. I mean that as far as what you wear and how you will be disciplined at home has already started. As the letter says, it depends on how many boys are entered by their parents and we will have to wait a few days to see if there are enough. If there are then the thing will start and the Headmaster will no doubt get us all together."
"If there aren't enough what will happen?"
"As far as you are concerned Philip we will continue with what we have started today. Or restarted, I should say. To be quite honest with you I do not know why I stopped with you and I can say it has not done you any good at all to relax discipline. You have proved beyond any doubt that you are not ready for that. I really could not believe how bad the remarks were in your homework book. It was really disgraceful, as was your behaviour this morning and the way you have stopped taking a pride in your appearance has upset your mother as well as me"
I looked forlornly down at my eiderdown as my father then said in much kinder voice:
"Philip, look at me."
I raised my tear filled eyes and looked at him.
"You have been punished, so don't worry I shall not cane you again today or indeed tomorrow or any day this week or for that matter, ever again if you always behave yourself. It really is up to you, you know. There will be plenty of new rules but you will have a proper chance to learn them"
"Do you mean rules for home?" I enquired
"For school and for home. I will set them out for you and we can discuss them tomorrow. For now you just have to remember to get up in plenty of time tomorrow morning and be downstairs by 7.30 sharp dressed in your full school uniform. Then you . ."
"What about trousers?"
"Don't interrupt, Philip. You already know about trousers and socks. Just make sure the rest of your uniform is clean and worn properly. Also remember to address me as Sir from now on. I think that will be better all the time now, not just when you are in trouble.
"Yes, Sir"
"Good boy. Now I think that is enough for now. Go straight to sleep and don't forget. Up bright and early in the morning. Goodnight, Philip" and he went to the door and switched off my light plunging the room into total blackness.
"Goodnight, Sir" I said to his back, lay down and turned over. I quickly undid my pyjama trousers and slipped them down and enjoyed feeling the cane ridges on my hot bottom with my left hand and playing with my soft, still little boy penis with my right until sleep overtook my feeble efforts. I dreamt of my school detention to come on Friday. I was boy-handled up onto my desk in the centre of the detention room. What seemed to be hundreds of boys surrounded me and together pulled down my shiny new grey short trousers along with my underpants and Mr. Jones, wielding a cane of gigantic proportions, shouted at me to put my hands on my head. A sea of faces turned around to look at my exposed boyhood and I felt many hands feeling my bottom and the stinging of many little canes. To my left was Grainger and to my right Turner, both standing on chairs with their hands on their heads and grinning broadly at me.
I woke very early. My bottom was now stiff, sore and itching but also still warm to the touch. After washing thoroughly I returned to my bedroom and dressed. I found a clean grey shirt in one of my drawers and clean white briefs and vest in another. The drawers seemed unusually empty. In the bottom one there was just one pair of the new grey short trousers and the top only contained the new long socks. I looked in my wardrobe, which only revealed my blue school blazer and the hated navy-blue belted school raincoat. All my other clothes had gone except for a couple of pairs of khaki shorts. All my long trousers and jeans had vanished. I dressed in the short trousers and school socks that I had left on the chair the previous night and went downstairs carrying my shoes to the scullery and gave them an unwonted but very thorough clean. I put them on and was returning to my room when my mother called out to me from the kitchen:
"Philip, you'll be needing these"
"Oh thanks, mum" I said as she handed me two black elastic gaiters of the sort she always made for me at the beginning of each school year. I ran upstairs and sat on my bed and stretched each gaiter in turn over my shoes and under my sock tops, which I had noticed already had a Cash's name tape sewn in informing anybody that might be interested that these particular socks belonged to SMITH, R. 2B. Tapes had also been sewn in my new trousers and even on the gaiters. Who would want to steal those?
"Let me have a look at you" said dad as I arrived in the kitchen precisely on time and stood to attention whilst my father walked around me and inspecting me from head to toe. I had been very careful that morning.
"Well done. Excellent! That is exactly how you must report for breakfast every school day. Keep this up and we will get on like a house on fire"
"Like a bottom on fire" I thought as I sat down on the hard kitchen chair. My mother handed me a bowl of porridge that was going to be appreciated. The first real frost had set in and I could see the lawn looking quite white through the kitchen window. Although it had only been less than four months since I had discarded short trousers this sudden return to them on such a cold day made my knees feel very exposed. What worried me much more though was their exposure to hundreds of pairs of schoolboy eyes as I went into school that morning.
"Philip. I am going to give you some money to take with you to school today. You must keep it safe and go immediately after school to Brummels"
I looked at my father who handed me a five-pound note. Brummels was the old-fashioned gents' outfitters in the High Street, who for many years had been the official uniform stockists for my grammar school.
"Get off the bus in Caneton and go straight there and ask for a school cap. I know that they have plenty in stock because I have checked. Let one of the assistants try them on your head and take the one they say is right for you. You will have plenty there and keep the change safe. Make sure you then catch the late bus, which would be about 4.30 by the time it gets to Caneton. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
My father looked at me sternly.
"Sorry. Yes, Sir"
"Don't forget that again Philip," he said in a voice that meant that if I did there would be uncomfortable consequences.
"One more thing. As you leave the shop put the new cap on. Put it on straight and keep it on all the way home. Don't take it off on the bus. Not until you enter this house do you remove it."
"Yes, Sir" I said miserably. I wondered how he would know if I ignored this instruction. I finished my breakfast. It was early still and a good twenty minutes before I needed to leave the house.
"Go upstairs and clean your teeth Philip" said mother.
"OK, mum" I said. I assumed it was acceptable to still call her that or should I be saying ma'am. As my father said nothing I assumed it was all right. I did as I was told and went to my room and collected my satchel in which I had already packed my homework and impositions. I did not want to leave the house too early and get caught at the bus stop by Turner dressed like this. It wouldn't be so bad on the bus after I had sat down.
"Philip. Hurry up. Put you're coat on" instructed mum from the foot of the stairs.
My coat on! Surely I did not have to put the school coat on. I would really look like a little first former now with my sock tops showing under the coat. That was too much for me.
"Oh no mum. Not that. It's not cold", I shouted back.
"Do as you're told Philip", shouted mum
"Please mum. Not that coat. It's sissy"
"PHILIP. DO AS YOU ARE TOLD" bellowed my father
That made my heart stop a moment and then I could feel my pulse through the stripes on my bottom. With great reluctance I took the school raincoat out of the cupboard and put it on. I left the belt undone, picked up my satchel and went downstairs, where my parents were waiting.
"Do the belt up" came from father
"Please, do I have to really. I hate this coat" I complained. My father looked at his watch.
"Come into the lounge, Philip" he said quietly and I followed him in and closed the door behind me. Mother returned to the kitchen.
"We have not much time. You have a bus to catch but I cannot let you get away with behaviour like that. When you are told to do something you will obey us implicitly. You do NOT argue. You also forget to address me as Sir again and that after just warning you. Put your satchel down and bend right over" and so saying I saw him reach up to the bookcase and take down the cane.
Fully dressed as I was, but with raincoat belt still undone, I bent right over and held on to my ankles. My shoes were splendidly clean and I am certain I saw my face twice reflected in the toecaps. I felt my coat tails being lifted up out of the way and suddenly I heard the cane just before I felt it, striking hard and with a terrific CRACK in the centre of my bottom, which even though was protected by both trousers and underpants was hurt sufficiently to cause me to burst into tears. I gripped my ankles tightly to the extent that I found bruises on them later and somehow managed to take three more excruciating strokes that rekindled every agonising one I had received the previous evening. Released from my position I was instructed to do my belt up, pick up my satchel and get myself to the bus stop as soon as I could. I reached into my trousers pocket for a handkerchief and left the house wiping away my tears that unfortunately kept being replaced as I ran for the bus. I arrived in time, but only just and was able to find a seat on the lower deck at the front out of the way of schoolboy eyes several of which had been taken upstairs before I crept on last of all. I tried very hard to stop my tears and had just gathered my composure by the next stop. Imagine my feeling as a boy from my school sat right next to me, one dressed very much as me right down to the length of his trousers, which although concealed under his own correctly belted navy school raincoat, the evidence of their junior length was provided by his school socks.
"Hello Smith" the boy said
"Oh hi Grainger" I replied
"Been crying?"
"No. Not really", I lied and attempted to ensure my satchel was concealing my newly bared knees and at that moment pleased I was wearing my school raincoat. Grainger looked down at my ankles and seeing them clad only in grey ribbed stockings with no sign of the bottoms of any trousers immediately guessed everything with unerring accuracy.
" I know. You're dad's had the letter and you've joined the new club. I bet you've just had the stick as well" and so saying he put his hand under my satchel and felt my left knee.
"Get off!" and I punched him in his arm. He retaliated by reaching for my knee again. I kicked his ankle. He punched my arm, which really hurt and I kicked him again, quite hard this time. I felt a hard slap on my right ear but this was not from Grainger who was holding his left ear, which the bus conductor had boxed simultaneously with mine.
"Stop that you two, or I shall report you" the conductor warned. We heeded this warning immediately as would be expected of two young boys who would know that severe retribution would descend upon them from their fathers, should they find out. After a couple of minutes I asked:
"Does your dad give you the stick too?"
"Yes. Always has. Lots of it too" replied Grainger. "Did you get it this morning?"
"Only just before getting on the bus. I had it last night too" I replied. First time for me. He used to give me the slipper loads of times though"
"Did you have to take your trousers down?"
"I did last night but not this morning there was no time" I replied
"How many?"
"Eight last night and four this morning" I answered remembering the penalty strokes but not wishing to admit they were not part of the real punishment.
"Eight on the bare bum for a first caning. Wow! Your dad sounds as strict as mine"
"Yes he's pretty strict, I suppose" I answered, no longer embarrassed about discussing this. Quite proud I had taken eight on the bare.
"Do you mind?" said Grainger, and I felt his hand reach under my bottom.
"Is it hot?" I asked
"Burning – even through your trousers"
"Do you mind?" and could not resist doing the same, reaching under his bottom and trying to make out anything under the smooth grey material of his shorts but his bottom had obviously not been caned as recently as mine. I felt a stirring below my satchel as I did that and wondered why.
"You won't feel anything. Not had it since last Thursday"
"How many did you get then, I enquired"
"I got a full dozen then. Do you want to see? If I can see yours I'll show you mine. We can do it in the bog at break"
"OK then", I answered.
When we arrived at the school stop I allowed Grainger to get off as he was sitting on the outside and also waited until all the other boys had disembarked and particularly that Turner had done so, who I noticed descending the stairs but thankfully not looking in my direction. I followed the last boy out sheepishly hoping that nobody would look around. Grainger did so however and waited for me.
"What kept you?"
"I'm a bit scared, wearing these again"; I said pointing to my socks.
"You'd be cold without them"
"You know what I mean. It's alright for you, you have never worn longs."
"Never shall, dad says, whilst I'm at school. Especially now we are in the Schoolboy Society. You won't either I expect.
"Is that what they're calling it"
"I think so. My father told me Horace had thought of it", said Grainger
I walked closely with Grainger on to the school playground and hoped the bell for lining up would come quickly. Not fast enough for me this morning though as I was surrounded by boys from my class including Turner who pointed me out with glee, encouraging more to attend.
"You said your dad wouldn't do anything, Turner laughed. "Now look at you, just like baby Grainger" and he came up to me and lifted my coat up revealing my short trousers to the assembled mass. I froze not knowing what to say or how to react. I looked at Grainger for inspiration. He had only been teased himself recently as many boys, including me had worn short trousers through the last year, so he was not much help.
"Did your daddy smack your little bottom" continued Turner. "I just love the coat"
"Look Turner. Just shut up will you" and I went to kick him but missed, as he must have seen it coming and moved adroitly. I was saved further immediate humiliation by the school bell and we all scrambled to get into our lines and march into the building in silence; a procedure that the school still managed to keep up because even though those who dared whisper or step out of line were no longer caned on the spot, it was a favourite time for prefects and masters to hand out detentions.
With my raincoat hung up on my peg my new short trousers were now more in evidence as I entered my form room for registration. I went straight to my desk ignoring several remarks about my trousers: "Who let a First Former in?" "Look at Smith's knobbly knees" "Have you forgotten to put on the bottom of your trousers?" "Go back to the cubs" (that one from a Scout). "Have you got a licence for those knees?" "I like the pretty socks" "Oh no. Not two Graingers. I can't stand it." "It's the first time I've seen flared shorts" (it was the 1970's and my shorts were more in keeping with the style of the 1950's, quite long and baggy) - and so on.
When I sat next to my neighbour, Fox he simply whispered "Is it a punishment?"
"Yes. Sort of", I whispered back. "It's because of the letter"
"What letter?"
It occurred to me that not many boys would have known about the letter yet. Their parents had either dismissed it immediately or would want time to consider it. After answering the register we were dismissed to assembly but Mr Jones called me back as I was following the class out, deliberately last.
"Very smart you are looking today, Smith"
"Thank you Sir"
"Don't take any notice of the teasing. It will soon stop. Just keep your socks pulled up and think how much better you look than them. Smart clothes make a smart boy. Well done. Was it your idea or your parents?"
"My parents Sir, but I don't mind", I found myself saying.
"Did they get a letter from the headmaster by any chance?"
"Yes Sir. I know about it. My father showed me."
"Excellent. You really are going to have to be extra good now, aren't you" and he winked at me. I think he was already imagining bending me over his desk.
Assembly went very much as usual. I felt hundreds of third form eyes staring at the back of my knees and had to tell three boys that my father made me wear the shorts as a punishment but it would not be for long. That seemed the easiest thing to say and as Fox did, they accepted it as perfectly reasonable. My ears started burning though at the end of assembly when I heard the following from the headmaster just before he swept out:
"Would the following boys report straight to my study immediately after assembly:
Blake 1a, Atkinson 1b, Reynolds 1b, Brown 1c, Hutchins 2a, Grainger 2b, Smith 2b, Matthews 2c, Porter 3a and Childers 3b.
The headmaster took us into his study as soon as we arrived. The four first formers were in short trousers, as were Grainger, Hutchins and myself. The other three were in longs.
"Stand in a straight line boys in the order I read out – Blake, Atkinson, Reynolds, Brown, Hutchins, Grainger, Smith, Matthews, Porter and Childers" We shuffled around and after the names were read out in the required order two more times we all ended up were he wanted us; so that he would know who we were.
"Does anybody NOT know why they are here – or has no idea at all, he said turning to the three long trousered boys who were all at one end.
"Is it about the letter Sir," asked Porter nervously.
"Yes, Porter. The letter I sent to all parents and the thing that you have in common is that your parents have already enrolled you in what we are calling "The Schoolboy Society". In a few days I expect to have several more of you and we can begin properly but I thought I would like a quick word with you now just to get a better idea of how things may already be changing for you, if indeed they are" he said and smiled at Grainger. "Also to see if we cannot get things going a little before the official start" he added and walked round behind his desk and sat down. I just stood hands behind my bottom and looked down at the carpet.
"Let me say how delighted I am that we have ten recruits so soon. That is an excellent start." He then said, looking at me:
"Smith, you have the honour of being the first to be enrolled. Your father beat Grainger's by about five minutes and your father Blake was a close third. Not that it really matters of course as you are all going to be treated exactly the same however old you are. I am pleased we already have two third formers and expect to get more and perhaps older boys as well. Tell us Smith, how this has already changed your life" and he looked at me again. I was supposed to say something.
"I. I. Well Sir. These are new Sir" and I pointed to my trousers.
"And very smart they are too Smith"
"And these Sir" pointing to my socks.
"Also very smart and correctly pulled up. Are your shoes new as well?"
"No Sir. I just polished them properly. I had a uniform inspection before school"
"Which I am sure you passed with flying colours. Did anything else happen – last night for instance."
"Yes Sir. I got the cane Sir. And again this morning"
"And you had never been caned before?"
"Only the slipper Sir"
"We shall not go into why you were caned, that is between your parents and you but you now know what to expect if you misbehave at home or indeed at school. Was anybody else caned recently?"
Grainger raised his hand.
"Last Thursday Sir"
"Which was before the letter of course, but then I already know that your father is a strict disciplinarian and would have been most surprised if you did not join. You are most welcome Grainger and I am sure your experience will be valuable to others. Anybody else?"
"I am getting it tonight Sir" piped up a diminutive Atkinson.
"And me I think" said ginger haired freckled faced Brown.
"My father said he would be beating me on Sunday, Sir" said the tall third former Childers in a very posh voice. He had only joined the school at the beginning of the term having failed to get into his father's old public school and would have been wearing short trousers today had he been still able to get into his grey flannel suit this morning to his mother's satisfaction, even though he had worn it at prep school every day over the last year.
"Good. What about you Porter?"
"He hasn't said yet Sir"
"Well I trust it will not be very long" and he stood up and went over to a cupboard in the corner of the study and took out a cane, exactly the same as my father had used on me. We all paid attention.
"You know of course that one of these are to be distributed to every master who will be instructed to use it on Schoolboy Society members. To use it very hard and as frequently as you need it, which will be every time you are foolish enough to break a rule. Did your father take your trousers down Smith?"
"Yes Sir" I gulped. "Last night Sir"
"Did it hurt?"
"A great deal Sir"
"And you all know that your own form masters will be able to do the same"
I thought of Mr Jones. I bet he couldn't wait.
"And if you are sent to me I shall always cane you on your bare bottoms, very hard indeed" he added slowly, flexing his cane in the classic headmaster manner. We all stared at that cane, even Grainger and tears could be seen glistening in the eyes of the first formers.
"Now about uniform. You three at the end must be in short trousers as soon as you can but on Monday at the very latest. Caning in this study recommences for you boys with immediate effect so I advise you to ensure any pairs of long trousers any of you possess are discarded, preferably burned. You shall all obtain a school cap, again by Monday but before if at all possible. Brummels have a plentiful supply so there is absolutely no excuse. Caps shall be worn correctly and at all times except when in the school building, your own homes, any home or in church. They shall be kept on in buses, cars and trains and when you're cycling as well as in shops and public buildings. It is an essential part of your uniform and will distinguish you as members of the society. You will learn to raise your cap if you meet a master or any adult that you know or should know by virtue of their standing in society. In other words if you meet your friend's parents you raise your cap because you know them but you also do the same if one of our school governors should walk by you, any minister of religion or the Mayor, the Prime Minister or any important person and most certainly any master. Remember your uniform is incomplete without a cap and if you forget to wear it you will be punished in the same way as you would be if you were found with your socks down" he said this still flexing the cane, leaving us in no doubt what that punishment would be and he looked at each of our socks, all of which for the seven correctly dressed boys, were pulled up properly with the ribbing straight and the tops neatly turned down.
"We will also be making a change to your blazers so as to distinguish you in class, especially when sitting down and this will take the form of some yellow tape that will be sewn on, which will look fine against the blue and will match the sock tops, badge and cap which is piped in yellow. You will all look jolly smart but we will do that when we know how many members we have. We shall also not start Saturday school until then but some things will apply from now"
I hesitated but raised my hand. I was thinking of my dream.
He either did not see me or ignored me. I lowered my hand.
"And one more thing. You will ALL get a haircut before Monday. By haircut I mean a proper schoolboy short back and sides", he added staring hard at Porter who was the only one amongst us that had hair that could be described as long by the scruffy standards of the time. My own mother sent me to the barbers every month and judging by the others they experienced a similar regime.
"Yes Smith?"
"Oh. Yes Sir. Please Sir. What about detentions."
"Do you have one Smith?"
"Yes Sir"
"Then you will spend an hour on Friday evening standing on your chair in the front of the detention class with your hands on your head. If you dare to move a muscle I shall cane you on Monday morning."
"Yes Sir, Thank you Sir"
"Any more questions?"
There was no answer. The headmaster then turned to a small boy who had not yet spoken.
"I have one for you Reynolds."
The first former looked up sharply.
"Yes Sir"
"Why were you late this morning?"
"I . .
"Well"
"I missed the bus Sir."
"Twice in four school days?"
The eleven-year-old looked terrified.
"I am waiting for an explanation"
"Sorry Sir . . ." was all the little boy could manage. I felt sorry for him but much more so when Horace stood up and told the boy to remove his blazer and hand it to Atkinson. Tears came straight away and I thought Atkinson was going to start too as he took the blazer.
"Stand nearer the wall boys, clear of the chair. You boy pull your trousers down" he ordered Reynolds. We stepped back to allow Reynolds room for his punishment. What a shame I thought that it wasn't Porter or Childers or even one of us second formers. Reynolds looked so small. He did not seem to know what to do. The headmaster sat on the chair and pulled the boy towards him.
"Does your father punish you at home?" he asked the boy quietly.
"No Sir. I mean yes Sir but not for some weeks. He sometimes gives me the slipper Sir"
Now my heart went out to the little chap. He was about to get his first caning and in front of us all. At least my own had been in private.
"Well I expect he took these off didn't he?" the headmaster said and began to undo the boy's shorts. Reynolds sobbed softly and just held his arms up to allow his master to undress him. I wondered whether that is what happened at home. The headmaster pulled the boy's trousers down and let them fall in a puddle around his ankles revealing a clean pair of white pants. These were taken down next to just below his knees and the headmaster stood up, guided the boy by the shoulder to the back of the chair (but who had some difficulty in avoiding tripping on account of where his trousers were) and lifted him over the back. I was now in a position to see his little white bottom sticking up and which seemed to be quivering in anticipation of the stick. The headmaster raised his cane and whipped it down hard in the centre of Reynolds's bottom. The boy howled and leapt up from his position before I was able to see the wheal appear, clutched his bottom and danced about the study, just as I did at home last night. Unlike my father, who had treated me kindly by comparison, the headmaster grabbed Reynolds by an ear and dragged him screaming back to the chair.
"Smith, Grainger. Hold an arm each. Kneel each side of the chair and hold his arms down. Do not let him go in any circumstances or you will find yourself across the chair"
We quickly obeyed and I took hold of Reynolds's lower right arm and Grainger grabbed hold of his left, kneeling the other side. Reynolds was crying close to our faces but cried a great deal louder when the headmaster commenced caning him. He gave him six severe strokes and each time Reynolds tried to pull his arm away from my increasingly tight grip for I had not dare to let him go. Each time he screamed close to my ear and made all in all a great deal more fuss than I had done last night albeit I was a year his senior. I wondered how often Reynolds had been punished before. At last the instruction came to release the boy and we gladly returned to our places. Reynolds was permitted to rub his bottom and did so facing us, presumably wanting to hide his stripes but revealing his little boy parts instead. I noticed Childers and Porter both holding the front of their trousers and I believe the headmaster saw too, which was perhaps why they were kept behind after we were dismissed. Feeling somehow responsible for Reynolds I took him to the boys' toilets, which were quiet as it was lesson time and tried to get him to stop crying.
"That was hard luck Reynolds. Sorry I had to hold you so tight but I got that at home last night and really didn't want any more."
"That's . . . all right Smith. I'll be alright." And he walked around the toilets soothing his injured bottom but still choking back sobs.
"Do you get that at home" I asked.
"Nothing like that before. Dad spanks me over his knee usually with a slipper."
"He will probably get a cane now though" I offered helpfully.
"Thanks a lot Smith. You really know how to make me feel better"
"Sorry. Just trying to be realistic. Let's have a look at the marks. I can put cold water on it" and I turned a tap on in one of the wash basins and put the plug in. "Ever sat in cold water after slipper. It's great. Get 'em off" and I went up to Reynolds who to my surprise lifted his arms up in just the same was as he did for the headmaster. Without hesitation I accepted the invitation to undo the clasp of his snake belt and enjoyed pulling down his zip. Then I pulled his shorts down to his ankles and went behind him and yanked his pants down to reveal a row of nasty looking welts. He let me feel them and they felt as mine did last night. I felt a stirring inside of my own pants as I struggled to help the boy up into the wash basin. He sat back and laughed and cried at the same time as the relief took effect. He seemed to have no concern at all that he was showing me everything that his eleven years of boyhood could muster or that he had caused a flood, soaking his socks and shoes as well as the floor.
"Come on Smith let's see yours," he said eventually and I assumed he meant my cane strokes but wondered briefly. "Come on its only fair" he added spilling more water out of the washbasin in which his red-hot bottom was placed. I obliged by taking my blazer off and hanging it behind one of the cubicle doors. I took a brief look out in the corridor before returning to Reynolds and I undid my shorts and pulled them down facing him. Although my penis was hardly bigger than that of the boy facing me, it was growing in excitement as I pulled my underpants down. Reynolds just stared at me and I turned around and moved close to him so that he could feel my bottom, which he did with his wet cold hands. I gently played with my semi erect penis and enjoyed a brief moment until something jolted me into reality. What on earth was I doing? I really did not know then what was making me want to do what I had just been doing. What if I had been caught? Imagine the scene that would confront anybody coming onto the room. I blushed and quickly dressed myself advising my young friend to do the same.
We left the boys' toilets and I watched Reynolds head towards the gymnasium where he was late for PT, leaving wet footprints on the polished tiled floor. I turned and went to my maths class, certain that my excuse that I had been to see the headmaster would be acceptable, equally certain that my algebra homework would be unacceptable and hoping sincerely that my lines would be deemed neat enough.