With acknowledgements to Spankjoy. Reading his 'Consider This' on this archive I was struck by the compressed, poetic style and the hypnotic effect of the repetitions. I have borrowed these, and his opening; thereafter the content is quite different.
Consider this...
A fourteen-year-old boy called David.
David is waiting, knowing that he is to be punished.
David has not received punishment, corporal punishment, before.
He is waiting. Outside the study.
Consider this...
David is 5'6" tall.
David has light brown hair, quite long.
David has blue eyes.
David looks a little younger than his age.
David is slender.
David is waiting to be punished.
Consider this...
David has done wrong.
David has been caught in the town, playing truant from school.
David lied to his parents. He stole the letter home.
The master has promised David's parents that he will punish David severely.
The master is looking forward to his task.
He can see that David is frightened.
David is waiting to be punished.
Consider this...
The master has planned David's punishment carefully.
Truancy is a school offence. For this David will be caned.
A boy of 14 may be given up to 8 strokes. David is going to get 8 strokes.
House offences are corrected with a martinet. Boys call it the 'cat'.
Lying is a house offence. So is hiding a letter to your parents.
David has earned 12 with the martinet.
David's parents have agreed to the double penalty.
David has been deceitful and defiant. He must learn his lesson.
David must be punished severely.
Consider this...
Inside the study now
David standing shame-faced, head bowed, as the master lectures him.
David's eyes drawn like a rabbit's to the thin bamboo cane that lies on the desk.
David thinking 'Will I have to take my trousers down?'
David blushing hot, undoing his trousers.
David in a panic. 'Please God not pants too. Not bare, please!'
Then, 'Suppose I got hard - he'd see it!'
David feeling it lengthen. David stiff in his pants.
The master smiling with grim satisfaction,
Lashing the supple cane through the air, saying the dreaded words.
David's worst nightmare flashing like a semaphore through his mind.
'NO!...oh Christ it IS...I can't, I can't!'
David must.
David scarlet-faced, slowly pulling his underpants down, right down, in front of the master.
Trying to draw his stiffness down with the elastic to hide it between his thighs.
It springs up as he straightens.
David ordered 2 strokes extra for indecency.
David stretched forward over the desk, hands reaching forward, gripping the edge.
David is about to be punished.
Consider this...
The master slides the shirt and school jumper up David's back.
His hand slides down over David's bare bottom.
It feels gently, testing, seeking the tenderest parts to cane.
David thinks 'The dirty bastard, he's queer, he's feeling me..'
His cheeks tighten, grip the fingers that probe between.
'God let the whacking start, please!'
As the tip of the bamboo tap-taps his behind, David's stiffness strains against the desk.
The master thinks 'Christ what a bottom...smooth as a baby's...'
David thinks 'Stop tapping or I"ll...no...think of maths, football - anything...'
Then the terrible hissing and the smack, the burning white line dead centre,
'Christ it can't hurt this much, it CAN'T, oh let it STOP!
Not another...not TEN, not on bare skin, I can't take it...
Oh please Sir no more...
Sir I'm SORRY...
A-A-A-A-A-GH!!'
David is being punished.
Consider this...
The master knows how to cane.
Slowly, with precise accuracy.
Two strokes, firmly, across the centre of David's behind.
Four strokes, hard, on the lower curves of David's behind.
Two strokes, very hard, at the base of David's behind.
Two extra, for indecency, with stinging force across the rest
The tip curling to David's hip.
David jerking violently over the desk
Hands gripping the edge white-knuckled, desperate to stay down.
David gasping, yelling, sobbing..
Eight crimson lines searing his cheeks.
Two lines, white-hot, crossing them..
David screaming.
The master knows how to cane.
He has enjoyed caning David.
David has been punished.
Consider this...
David standing in a corner of the study,
Pants up, trousers down, hands on head.
David has stood motionless for an hour.
If he twists to relieve the pain David is told to keep still.
The master carefully inscribes the Punishment Book:
Truancy...age 14...cane on bare buttocks...10 strokes.
Tears of self-pity are streaked down David's face.
'It's not fair to punish me again.
Boys say the cat's worse than the cane.
Boys say he gets your balls with the cat.
WHY did I take the letter, WHY did I lie to Mum?'
Sensing the moment close, David starts to go hard again.
'Not yet...five minutes...one more minute...please!'
David is waiting to be punished.
Consider this...
Time waits for no boy. David stripping, down to his pants.
David standing head bowed, tearful, as the master's tongue lashes him,
Eyes flickering from the carpet to the seven tails of the martinet splayed out on the desk.
David thinks 'Yes - shirt off - it's on my back...
I can take it there...and he won't see!'
Then - a leather bolster placed on the edge of the desk.
Why?
'Oh no - not pants too - Sir please not naked - Sir my bottom's too sore,
I'll take double on my back - PLEASE...
But Sir I CAN'T...!'
David must.
Beetroot red, David obeys.
The master watches nude David walk to the desk,
Admires the stripes wobbling on the round behind,
Frowns at the shameful stiffness in front:
Grimly orders four lashes extra.
The master thinks, Now
David is going to be punished.
Consider this...
David nervously leaning over the bolster:
'Wait till you're told. Stand up. Feet wide apart. Wide as they'll go. Now over.'
David spread to the limit, on tiptoe to raise himself,
Stretching forward over the bolster.
The master watching as David's cheeks tighten and slowly part.
At last...
'Lift that backside, boy. Right up. Don't dare move."
Tails drawn over the taut target, tips falling between, tickling...
Crimson David gasps, straining rigid against the bolster...
In desperation lifts high.
Seven snakes of liquid fire licking
Crackling, hissing across wealed cheeks.
David leaping, fingertips clutching...
'AAAA..AAA..AAGH!!
Christ it's worse, it's WORSE...my whole bum...15 more...Jesus!
Sir I'll NEVER lie again I SWEAR
AAAA..AAOOWW..AARGH!!'
David is being punished.
Consider this...
The master loves the martinet.
He has dreamed of giving the martinet to David.
Four scorching lashes spread wide across both cheeks,
Sear the sore cane welts.
David writhes, yells, dares not move.
The master thinks 'Now..do it now!'
He steps back, swings high at an angle:
Seven tails clasp the left buttock,
Seven tips, needle hard, claw deep...
'AAAAARRRGGHH...OOOOWWWW...AAARRGGHH!!...'
Brain writhing, body convulsing as the charge explodes.
'Play truant would you? Steal letters? Backside up - right up!'
And to please David thrusts it out grotesquely...
' AAAOOOOWWW...PLEASE NO MORE!!!'
Yet...with burning cleft, fire flooding down,
David in ecstasy wants more
Lifts to the lash, with each stroke rams the bolster, pushes back panting for the next.
'Defy me, will you, young rebel?"
Thongs hiss round the inner thigh...
Long and high, an octave up, David shrieking in outrage
' A-A-A-A-R-R-GGHH...Sir NO-O-O-O...my BALLS...AAA-AA-RRRGGHH!!!'
Madly gyrating above, David's rump tempts the cat:
The furious thrusts resume: but fingers reach beneath
And David's hard length is drawn downwards.
High and shrill David's screams of punishment
'JESUS N-O-O-O-O-O NOT THERE...
O-O-OWWWW-A-A-A-R-R-G-G-H-H!!!
Tails find root and tip in a single lash
And David's body leaps beyond his control:
Again thongs snake to the inner eye, touch the sacred spot
As spasms flood the bolster, shoot to the polished floor:
Then a hard hand behind David's neck
And his nose is rubbing, tongue licking till the boards gleam.
Now, David has been punished.
Consider this...
David sobbing with humiliation;
His agonised tiptoe to the haven of clothes
Tears mixing with white smears on his blotched face,
Boyhood shrunk
Dark lines of the cane stamped with the cat's scarlet tracery
Over buttocks and thighs, deep into the cheeks and between the legs;
The master glowing with satisfaction as he views his work.
Hands on head David stands, in smart school trousers and jumper now,
Smarting, stinging, not daring to move a muscle.
Again the book, the formal entry:
Lying to parents, intercepting letter...age 14...martinet on bare buttocks.
At last, a finger beckons David to the desk.
'I hope you have learned your lesson.'
'Sir.' Head bowed.
'You know now how I use the martinet. Defiance cannot be tolerated.'
David's eyes lift to meet the master's. 'I deserved it like that.'
'More rebellious behaviour, young man,
And I shall send you to the horse.'
'Sir!' A thrill of fear, excitement in the voice.
'Do you know what that means?'
' Next time...I get the birch.'
David's eyes look straight into the master's eyes.
And both know for certain that soon, once again,
David will misbehave, and then
David is going to be birched.
Consider that.