This story is mostly about my old school, situated in Melbourne, Australia and well known, during the years I attended there, for the use of The Cane on boys' bottoms. It was a Church school and no doubt followed the Bible instructions concerning the rearing of children - especially boys. Either that or they thought our brains were in our bottoms and thus needed constant waking up. Certainly the prefects in the senior school (or secondary level) must have believed this for their enthusiastic use of The Cane on our adolescent bottoms was truly cataclysmic.
The story starts quite a number of years after I left school with a very healthy (or should that read unhealthy ?) libido involving short trousers and The Cane, although The Strap also, which was more a family type instrument, and later, the Paddle when I found out about the American School methods.
Somewhere I met up with one of the boys (whose name was Tim) who with his three mates was the subject of an earlier story involving vandalism on the Melbourne train system, closely followed by the consequences in the Headmaster's study, with their pants all off. It was the boy who had escaped a parental thrashing but had the humiliating experience of being locked up naked in an outside lavatory the evening before his interview in the Headmaster's study. This parental punishment fascinated me and I asked him about it. He said it happened many times even into his late teens, never thrashed or spanked, just undressed and locked up naked in a tiny outside lavatory which was never used for any other purpose. He said before adolescence the punishment was endured in utter humiliation, sometimes for several hours, depending on what his mischief had been. In his teens however he spent the time masturbating. Although not exactly enjoying the stripping, usually in front of family members, and being marched naked outside to the lavatory, once inside, he found a certain - pleasure !
He grew into adulthood totally _s_e_x_ually disoriented as has happened to myself, living only for the pleasure of returning to boyhood and once again experiencing those punishments. I met him as a result of an advertisement he placed in a contact magazine. We met and enjoyed taking turns in being either a boy, or the Headmaster - or Father. Haven't seen him since, which is sad. On this one occasion, while we rested between sessions, we discussed a boy we both knew as boarders at school. He had been caught as a thief and although he only pinched somebody's comic he would have been expelled. The Housmaster realised this and instead of informing the Headmaster dealt with the matter himself so the boy could avoid expulsion. Can't remember the boy's name, so will call him Kevin. He was 15.
Unfortunately for Kevin his development was a bit slow. His voice was still treble and his privates had not grown much beyond his early childhood, there was certainly no pubic hair apparent. Kevin unusual for senior school boys, still wore short trousers. He appeared really to be only about 11 or 12. Most boys of 15 are well on their way to adult development. I myself at the time was 13 and although no where near full adolescent development was further advanced than Kevin. I felt a little sorry for him, as often I was the bait of jokes about my bed creaking while I masturbated - I tried as hard as I could to avoid those give away creaks, but I was always discovered and had to bear the brunt of the other older boys' joking in the dormitory, sometimes also the heel of the senior boy's gym shoe with my pyjama pants down. When Kevin appeared the joking at my expense gave way to him.
Kevin was lucky in one way, his bed either didn't creak or he had not as yet found out about that most enjoyable pastime, but the older boys directed their merciless taunts at him anyway. At the time, I knew nothing about the Facts of Life and never found out until I was nearly 15, so the main joke directed at Kevin was "what he really needed was an artificial prick (no idea what that was !) filled with cream". The whole thing was a mystery to me.
In the affair of the stolen comic I never fully discovered what happened as I left the boarding house and became a Day Boy. It was not until I met up with Tim and we sat down for a rest (we were both getting on), one of us in short trousers the other with a Headmaster's cloak.
Kevin was summoned to the Housemaster's study and lectured sternly and was told he would be punished later that day, after prep and when he was ready for bed. Tim told me he was crying after that first interview but would not talk to anyone about it. That night the house Prefect came to collect Kevin who had actually got into bed. Out he had to get, the prefect demanded if he had anything stuffed down his pants, and had a look to be sure. "Put your dresssing gown on !" and off they went. Tim said he was away at least an hour. When Kevin returned he was sobbing helplessly, rubbing his bottom and just jumped into bed and said nothing. The other boys left him alone until morning. In the showers the facts became known. Kevin's bottom was a bruised and swollen mass of welts. He had been given 15 strokes, one for every year of his age.
Tim told me it was a long time before Kevin explained what happened in the Housemaster's study. He was told he was to have 15 strokes on his bare bottom, that after each stroke he was to stand in the corner with his hands on his head for 5 minutes before the next one. He was told to take off his dressing gown and his pyjama pants, fetch The Cane from its hook on the wall and give it to the Housemaster, after which he had to place a chair in the centre of the room, kneel on it, knees wide apart, with his head and shoulders over the back and wait. His pyjama coat was lifted up over his back and with The Cane he was tapped on the insides of his thighs and told to spread them further apart.
The Caning commenced. After each stroke, Kevin was not allowed to touch his bottom, he had get off the chair and go and stand as ordered in the corner - to thoroughly experience the full fulfilment of each stroke, he was told. Then he was ordered back to kneel in the chair. After it was over, he pulled on his pyjama pants, put on his dressing gown and was ushered to the door and told to get straight to bed.
After that little story it was my turn to wear the short trousers, and, oh boy ! did kevin rip them down and did he slash that Cane down onto my bare bottom 15 of the best !