Let me tell you about something different. This was the time I was asked to wittness the canning of Shane - the guy who ambushed me in an incident I've mentioned before.
He had I had been rivals through-out High School. We were both big, and thought we were pretty tough, although our attitudes were rather different.
As you might have guessed from these stories, my butt was beaten quite a bit while I was at school. This was always a result of my combination of high spirits and a hot temper. Basically I was a good student - mostly well-behaved, and always getting good grades. I had a tendancy to act inappropriately at times, and the teachers had little hesitation in beating me because I never complained or whined, and was big and strong enough to handle it. Besides many of them enjoyed beating strapping young lads across their well-defined butts. They thought that I was 'worth it' - a perverse kind of compliment. I guess I enjoyed it too, for much of the time, and so kindof encouraged it. I was never given any other serious punnishment - never given detention, and never given suspended.
Shane was different. He was a bully, and a bad student. Paradoxically he was very rarely beaten - he tried to avoid and/or escape it desperately. He did get other punishments, but something about him mean't that the staff didn't want to bother canning him - he was just put in detention.
My last canning was at age 16 - but that's another story. I want to jump forward a year to my final year at high school, when I was able to watch Shane get the thrashing of his life, across his cowardly little butt.
I was a school prefect by this time (in spite of, or perhaps because of the beatings I'd endured). Mature, responsible and polite I was held up as something of a paragon of schoolboy virtue - by beatings were a badge of honour.
Anyway, this really irritated Shane, who had achieved nothing at school. No-one respected him, and he resented my success - as he always saw me as his nearest rival.
He tried to undermine my authority at every turn. He'd tease me in front of junior boys, and often kicked me in the butt. I tried to rise above it.
I thought nothing about him when my school house was summoned to a meeting. The Housemaster ordered us to stand by our lockers for inspection. His wallet had been stolen from the office, and he was sure that one of us must be responsible.
I noticed Shane looking across at me as I stood by my locker in complete innocence. Our Housemaster looked in my locker, and muttered "well, well" as he pulled out - his wallet !
"C'mon Martin" he said "you've got an Appointment with the Head"
"But sir ... ?" I protested as he dragged me out. I could see all the boys of the house watching in rapt amazement - greatly looking forward to the upcoming drama of a Prefect and school hero being given a canning.
I soon found myself standing in the Head's office. He scowled at me :
"I'm very disappointed in you Martin"
"But sir !" I protested "I didn't steal any money !"
"Are you sure ?" asked the Head, looking me straight in the eye.
"Yes sir" I said steadily looking straight back at him.
"Alright Martin, seeing your a Prefect and not prone to lying, I'll give you three days to find out who did. If you can't ... I'll give you twenty strokes with the Cane, because I'll know you've been lying to me. Then we'll get around to some further punishments"
I gulped and involunarily squeezed my butt. I could feel it tingle in anticipation ... I was tempted to confess right there and then, except that I didn't want to lose my privilages as a Prefect, and besides, I didn't do it.
So I had a reprieve. I took a lot a teasing when I got back to the House. I tried to find out who stole the wallet, and got nowhere. I began to dispair for my butt.
On the second day, I was walking back to the locker-room, and bumped into Mr Crawford, the groundsman. Unlike many arrogant schoolboys, I was always friendly and pleasant to the support staff. I started to chat to him about the up and coming Rugby match, but soon diverted the conversation to my 'problem'.
He was stunned: "A wallet was stollen ... at around lunchtime, on Monday?"
I said "Yes"
He explained that he had seen Shane skulking around the Housemaster's office, and felt sure it must of been him that stole the money, and then set me up. It all clicked for me.
I thanked him, and ran back to the House, andactually found Shane there. I confronted him, and we were arguing , and soon were rolling around on the floor, trying to punch one another, when my Housemaster ran in, and pulled us both up by our collars. He marched us both in front of the Head.
The Head demanded to know what the hell we thought we were doing. I expalined that Shane had stollen the money and I was trying to get him to confess.
Shane was obviously scared because he at first hotly denied the charge, but under questioning he reluctantly confessed. I must admit that this was the most tense interview I ever had. I had a major hard-on at the thought of twenty strokes of that cane, and yet it frightened me - not because of the pain, but the shame.
Shane had never been canned anything like that hard, and so was petrefied. The Head said that he should cane us both for fighting, but that he felt that I had been suficiently provoked ... so I'd get away with one 'tap'.
So he made me bend over, and accept one tap on my butt with the Senior cane - I barely felt it.
Next came Shane. I was told to stay and watch seeing I'd been wronged by him. He was to get twenty. He looked really scared.
He was told to bend over. With a sigh he assumed the position, and he thrust out his well-developed butt, tightly clad in grey trousers. That firm bum looked ready to take a violent whacking.
The Head drew back the Senior cane and swished it into Shane's bum. "Yeow - that's one sir" howled Shane as his but quivered with the impact.
The strokes rained down, and Shane's howles got louder, and he started squriming. Finally after the 9th stroke he leapt up and started rubbing his butt. His trousers creased around his bum, as they hadn't fallen from when he was bent over. The Head pushed him back into position, and proceeded.
He didn't get up again, and didn't miss-count, but was bawling openly by the time the twentieth stroke landed.
I was a little jealous. It looked like a vintage canning, and while it was good to see Shane get his cumupence, I wished I'd taken some of those strokes - if nothing else to show him up. It wss exciting to watch though, and I was impressed with the firm shape Shane's butt was in - I only hoped mine was in similar condition.
After this episode - Shane never wanted to talk about it. Lots of boys in my house were dissapointed it wasn't me with the stripes on my butt. But I'd had my fair share of beatings, and this was Shane's turn.