I had been regularly caned throughout my school career. As a junior boy I was caned by the prefects and when I was older by the masters. I was now a prefect and even prefects were caned occasionally by their housemasters. I had not been caned for some time. Although I can't say I enjoyed the pain, I found the preliminaries and the aftermath of a caning somehow exciting. I was nearing the end of my time at school and assumed that I would never be caned again. However as the exams approached, I submitted some work that was below standard. I was summoned by my housemaster and I expected that i would receive a severe lecture. He told me that with the exams so close, I needed to work harder and then to my surprise he said, "I am going to cane you to wake your ideas up." Although I was taken aback, I thought that this was likely to be the last time I would be caned and therefore it would be a memorable occasion.
My housemaster placed the caning chair in the middle of the room. No one ever sat on this chair and there was no wear on the seat. However the varnish on the back, and on top of the front legs, was worn away by generations of boys bending over and holding on to the chair while they were caned.
Canings were always administered on the bare buttocks and without waiting to be asked, I unfastened my trousers and took them off and then my underpants. My housemaster went to a cupboard and brought out the senior boys cane with its traditional crook handle. When I saw it I couldn't take my eyes off it and I found myself gently rubbing my bottom in anticipation of the pain it was about to inflict. My housemaster flexed the cane to test it and then ordered me to bend over the chair. I lifted my shirt tail and leant across the chair and gripped the front legs. I found this strangely arousing; I was now exposing and presenting my bare bottom for severe punishment. This was the ultimate submissive act and I could feel the faint stirrings of an erection. I played a lot of sport and I knew my bottom was firm and well shaped and I could imagine my housemaster admiring it as I bent across the chair waiting to be caned.
He was in no hurry to begin and he prolonged the preliminaries deliberately, no doubt thinking this would increase my apprehension; or was it to increase his own enjoyment? He swished the cane through the air several times and then tapped and stroked my bottom for some time. However I enjoyed the strange stimulation of exposing myself in this position and my erection grew stronger. At last he said: "I am going to give you eight strokes." This was a very severe punishment and would certainly wake my ideas up. It would definitely light my bottom up.
I felt the cane tap in preparation for the first stroke and then there was a pause as the cane was drawn back. SWISH!!....CRACK!! I felt as though my bottom had been branded with a white hot poker. I yelped. Then there was a deeper wave of pain that built up to an unbearable peak as it passed through me. I howled, and then howled louder in time with the increasing pain. Finally the wave passed and the pain subsided and I quitened down. As I recovered from this first stroke, I blinked tears out of my eyes and gulped in surprise. I had forgotten just how painful the senior cane was and this was only the first if eight strokes. My housemaster allowed me time to settle down and brace myself for the next stroke. SWISH!!....CRACK!! owwwOWWWWowww...!!! I had my eyes closed as I gritted my teeth and hung on to the chair. I was aware of nothing except the pain burning like a furnace in my bottom. I did not stand up or even move but remained bent over the caning chair offering my bottom for the next stroke. I was completely at the mercy of my housemaster who could make each stroke as severe as he wished and I would have to accept it and then wait for the next.
The caning seemed to go on forever, but finally I heard my housemaster walk over to the cupboard and replace the cane. I felt a terrific sense of relief that it was over but I remained bent across the chair, breathing heavily and in some distress. My housemaster gave me time to recover a little and then said I could stand up when I was ready. I also found the aftermath of a caning strangely exciting and as I stood and rubbed my bottom I could feel ridged weals and again I sensed the stirrings of an erection. My bottom was blazing and I got dressed very carefully. I had another lecture from my housemaster and was then dismissed and I returned to my room. I examined my bottom in the mirror and the sight of eight bright red stripes gave me a very strong erection. After a time the pain subsided to a warm and not unpleasant glow which made it almost worthwhile. When I sat the exams I was physically reminded of the caning, but I did manage to pass.