It was a stroke of bad luck that the day Paul Cole decided to miss morning assembly was the day when it was announced that visiting the sweet shop during the morning and afternoon breaks was forbidden. Paul knew he was taking a risk by not attending assembly. Spot checks were made and if his absence had been noticed, the result would have been a detention. However Paul needed to complete his homework, and knew that if that was not handed in at the first lesson of the day, he would certainly have recieved a detention. In the event, no check had been made, and Paul believed he had made the right decision. The final lesson before the morning break took place in an annex building, and the walk back to the main building was routed passed a sweet shop. As normal, on that particular day, Paul called in the sweet shop to buy some chocolate. When he entered the shop he was surprised that it was empty, but did not take much notice. However, when leaving the shop, he was approached by a Master who was lurking outside, who promptly took Paul's name. It was only later that Paul found out about the assembly announcement.
It did not take long for Paul to find out he was in trouble. Immediatly after the lunch break, he was given a message that the Headmaster wanted to see him in the gym immediatly after school. The Headmaster used the gym to interview pupils. His office was in the old part of the school, and was a small room not suitable for meeting people, whereas the gym was a modern building with a fairly large office. Paul suspected, however, that the Headmaster regarded his office in the old part of the school as a personal sanctum, and did not like the atmosphere spoiled by having to deal with naughty pupils! There was, though a more sinister reason for using the gym. These meetings usually ended up with a caning, and canings took place in the gym itself.
For the rest of the afternoon Paul had mixed feelings. On the one hand he felt scared about what was in store, on the other he felt resentment. He knew he could have left school that previous summer having reached the age of 15. However, his Father would not agree to his leaving, and Paul was happy to go along with that. He knew it would be almost impossible to get a good job without any educational qualifications, and he was not due to sit his GCE "O" levels for another year. He hoped however that during this last year at school, he would be treated with a little more respect, and given some freedom from the petty rules which had been so much a part of school life. Sadly Paul knew this was a forlorn hope.
When school had finished, Paul made his way to the gym, and waited outside the office. He was joined by three other boys, all younger than Paul. Although nobody spoke, it was clear from their looks that they had all been summonsed to appear before the headmaster for various acts of misbehavior. After a short while the door was opened, and Curtis, a Prefect, called the four boys into the office. The Headmaster was seated at a desk, and Curtis stood by his side. Paul and the other three boys were made to stand in front of the desk.
"What is your name, boy?" asked the Headmaster, looking at the first boy.
"Brown, Sir," he replied.
"And why are you here?
"I was flicking ink pellets in class, Sir, and one hit the teacher," replied Brown. Paul guessed he was the youngest of the group, probably in the first year. He looked very scared.
"What is your name?" asked the Headmaster looking at the second boy.
"Thomas, Sir."
"And why are you here?"
"I let off a stink bomb in class, Sir," replied Thomas.
"And you, what is your name?" asked the Headmaster looking at the third boy.
"Sims, sir."
"And why are you here?"
"Fighting in the playground, sir," replied Sims.
"And you, what is your name," asked the Headmaster, looking at Paul.
"Going into the sweetshop during the morning break, Sir," repled Paul
"I see," said the Headmaster. "Did you not hear the announcement in assembly this morning?"
For one moment, Paul wondered whether to admit that he had not been in assembly that morning, but decided that if he did, that would make the situation worse. He knew that, strictly speaking, it was againt the rules to go into a shop during the breaks, but until now, the rule had not been enforced.
"Yes, Sir," was Paul's eventual reply.
For a short while the Headmaster gave them a lecture about their unacceptable behavior - a lecture Paul had heard before, and then came the dreaded words.
"I am now going to tan your bottoms. Go into the changing room and get changed into your PT shorts," ordered the Headmaster. "Do you all have your shorts?"
Each boy nodded. With PT twice a week and games once a week, it was a fair bet that each boy would have a pair of shorts. If he did not, a pair would be provided for the occasion.
"Good," said the Headmaster. Then turning to Curtis said, "Go into the changing room with them, and make sure they have nothing on under their shorts. Now hurry up, I will see you in a few minutes in the gym.
All four boys left the office, and made their way to the changing room, accompanied by Curtis. Not a word was spoken as they got changed. Paul was not too happy having to get undressed in front of the three younger boys, and the Prefect, but he knew he was in no position to object. When they had got changed, the four boys were led into the gym, where in the centre of the room, a vaulting horse had been set up. The boys were told to stand against the wall, and Curtis moved over to the horse, and stood by the Headmaster, who was holding a cane.
"Brown, you first," said the Headmaster.
Brown walked over to the horse, and was ordered to bend over it. He was helped into position by Curtis, with his hands dangling on one side of the horse, and his legs on the other. His bottom was neatly positioned at the top of the horse. The Headmaster took position, then raised his cane, and brought it down on Brown's thinly covered buttocks. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Four strokes landed in quick succession. Paul was beginning to enjoy himself. He felt quite excited, but worried about what was in store for him. Brown got up, and joined the other boys. Tears were streaming down his face, and he was holding on to his bottom with both hand. Paul did not know whether to feel sorry for him or annoyed. It did not seem to Paul that the caning Brown had received was too hard.
"Thomas, come here," ordered the Headmaster. Thomas walked forward, and took position over the horse. WACK! WACK! WACK! WACK! Four strokes again. Paul thought these were harder than the first lot. Thomas got up and joined the other three. He was not crying, but blinking trying to hold back tears. He was however also holding his bottom.
"Sims, come here," ordered the Headmaster. Sims moved forward, and bent over the horse. WACK! WACK! WACK! WACK!. Another four strokes, and these were certainly harder than the other two. Sims got up, and joined the others, looking pale, and trying to hold back tears. He was also holding his bottom.
"Cole, come here," ordered the Headmaster. Paul walked forward, and bent over the horse. Paul waited for the first blow to fall. He did not have long to wait. CRACK! The first stroke landed on the middle of his clentched bottom. Paul was sure it was much harder than the strokes he had witnessed earlier. The thin cotton shorts seemed to offer little protection. It felt to Paul as if he was being caned on his bare buttocks. CRACK! Stroke two landed, leaving a line of white hot pain on each buttocks. Unlike the earlier canings, the Headmaster was waiting a short while between each stroke. CRACK! stroke three landed. Another line of pain. It was all Paul could do not to cry out in pain. CRACK! stroke four. Paul hoped that was the end, and he would be told to stand up, but nothing was said. CRACK! stroke five. By now Paul was starting to feel sick, but he clenched his teeth. CRACK! stroke six.
"Stand up, boy," ordered the Headmaster. Paul felt releived. It was over. He stood up, and started walking back to join the other three boys. He was determined not to cry, and not hold his stinging bottom, and he succeeded! As he approached the other boys, he raised his eyebrows, and smiled.
Back in the changing room, Paul removed his shorts, and started to get dressed. After a short while, Brown came up and said, "you were very brave, you got six strokes, and did not cry. I wish I could be as brave as that!"
"Oh well," relied Paul nonchalantly, "when you have been caned as often as I have you get used to it!"
Suddenly the four started talking, and comparing the cane marks on their bottoms. Needless to say, the ones on Paul's were by far the worse!
When Paul returned to school the next day, he realised, to his surprise that he was a hero amongst the younger boys, and many of them were regarding him with the same sort of awe usually reserved for the captains of the school football teams.
"Perhaps my last year at school will not be too bad after all," thought Paul with a certain degree of satisfaction.