Dear Diary,
What a wild and wonderful weekend it has been. It all started on the set of this wonderful film I'm doing with Steven. What a director...he's so good I can't believe my luck. But luckier than my professional relationship with Steve is my personal relationship with Haley.
Steve and I have been having a little bit of a contest over Haley. The kid is impressed with Steve, but I can tell he thinks I'm "cool" as he would say. On Friday we had a bit of a problem. You see, Steve had invited Haley to spend the weekend with him and his kids...but I had asked Haley to spend the weekend with me. His parents seemed happy enough to get him off their hands for the weekend and left the decision up to him.
Luckily, Haley chose to spend the weekend with me. Lucky for me that is. I have spent the weekend introducing Haley to the "English Vice". No reason why one of our young American cousins shouldn't be indoctrinated into the ways of the "old school", I say.
After the set was closed for the day on Friday, I took Haley out for a pizza dinner. Then straight to the secluded bungalow I'm renting in the hills. We watched some TV with Haley sitting right next to me. After an hour or so of that, I asked Haley if he and his parents were looking at any upcoming projects for him to do after we finished our film. Haley talked a bit about some silly sounding film but he wasn't sure if he'd do it and then politely asked me if I had any plans made.
It was then that I told him I was planning to write, produce, and direct a film based on some of Algernon Charles Swinburne's poems. The poor kid had never heard of Swinburne...not that I'm being snobbish and knocking the American educational system as we know the English educational system sadly allows boys of Haley's age to go largely ignorant of such great writers.
I pulled out a copy of Swinburne's epic flagellant poem "The Flogging Block" and asked Haley to read it aloud. Haley alternately blushed and laughed as he read of boys his age having their pants taken down and being soundly whipped on their bare bottoms by their schoolmaster often for what Haley considered trivial faults.
Haley asked if this was really how kids got punished back then. I told him it certainly was, but that Swinburne's writings could be viewed as both satirical and educational, and thus are still very relevant to today.
I told Haley, that I haven't yet cast the boy who will play the lead and asked him if he'd be interested. He enthusiastically said he would. I told him that unlike our current film this Swinburne film would be very low on special effects. I then told him I thought he might be a bit too soft to play the part of a boy being whipped...much easier role for an English boy who is used to rougher treatment I said. Haley was insulted, as I intended, and assured me he was tough enough to play the role.
I told him I doubted it, but would be willing to spend the weekend practicing if he wanted. Haley said he did. What joy! I told the boy that we needed to go outside and cut some switches to whip him with. It was amusing to watch him cut a nice green, thin, whippy stick, then strip it of the twigs, and then cringe slightly as he jerked it and watched how flexible it was. When he got an exceptionally flexible one, I said "that one's going to sting, I bet". Haley bit his lip but offered me a worried smile.
Once inside, I took a schoolmasterly tone and asked Haley some simple geography questions. Then, I said, "on to Latin".
"Now Haley, what is the Latin for schoolboy?"
Obviously, the boy didn't have any idea (neither do I, actually). I said in an angry tone, "This isn't very good at all, Haley. Take down your trousers this instant!"
Blushing and slightly stammering, Haley said, "Yes, Master." He had read the Swinburne quite well and knew the boys called their teacher "master". Haley lowered the trousers to his ankles then stood up and gave me a pleading look.
"Your underpants too Haley! Quickly now or you'll get it worse for being obstinate!"
He drew his underpants down to his ankles. His shirt covered him slightly in front.
"Now march over to the footstool." He shuffled over to it and stood before it. The lower half of his buttocks were fully displayed.
"Now kneel in front of the footstool and lay yourself over it."
"Please, Master, I'm sorry." said Haley. I couldn't tell if he was serious or just getting into the role. _d_a_m_n_, this kid's a good actor.
"Now Haley or I'll whip every bit of skin from your plump little bottom."
He obeyed. I walked over to him and pulled his shirt up to his shoulders. There he was, kneeling and naked from shoulders to ankles. His quivering smooth white young skin waiting nervously for the next act.
I took up the switch, took my place to the nervous young boy's left and began the whipping. I raised the switch and brought it down sharply across the middle of Haley's soft round little bottom. The stroke made a satisfyingly sharp snap as the switch wrapped itself around his firm bottom and bit into his flesh. The effect was immediate as Haley yelped and actually straightened up on his knees and clasped his bottom with both hands.
I yelled, "Haley! How dare you straighten up without permission! Get back into position at once!"
Haley did as he was told and as his hands left his bottom I saw the bright red stripe that the stroke had left. Haley looked up at me with piteously pleading eyes and said, "Sir, that REALLY HURTS! Please not so hard next time."
I asked Haley if he had ever even been spanked before and he said he hadn't. I told him I had reservations about him being brave enough to take a good whipping and again asked him if he was sure that he really wanted the role. He said he did and quite emphatically announced that he isn't "a baby or a coward".
The kid has spunk...I'll give him that. I then told him that since this was his first whipping, I would give him just six strokes. I also told him that if he straightened up or reached back that the stroke wouldn't count, so he still had six to go. Haley gravely nodded his head.
I raised the switch, Haley shut his eyes tight and tightened his body. I brought the switch down right under the first stroke. This time Haley let out a loud, "Ouch! Ow! Ow!"
His bottom opened and shut and shook convulsively. I took my time applying each stroke giving the boy time to catch his breath. He stayed in position for all the strokes. At the last one, I took time to survey his bottom. It had seven swelling red stripes across it. It was obviously still stinging as Haley continued writhe on the footstool and to rhythmically work his buttocks as he kept his kneeling position.
Finally, I told him to get up and face me. I had rolled his shirt up so tightly when I had raised it before the whipping that it stayed rolled up to his shoulders as he stood. His trousers and underpants were still draped around his ankles. I took his chin in my hand and lifted his face so he was looking up into my eyes. Tears were still dripping from his eye lashes and streaming on his soft cheeks. His eyes sparkled with fresh pain. I took a handkerchief out of my pocket and gently dried young Haley's eyes and cheeks. Haley never once attempted to pull his shirt down or reach back and rub his smarting bottom.
I told him that he was going to stand in the corner for as long as it took him to memorize a Swinburne poem. After he felt he had memorized it, he was to call me and I would quiz him by giving him the first line of a stanza and then he would complete it by memory. Any mistakes would be punished with the switch. Then, I said, "Raise your hands."
Haley instantly obeyed and I took his shirt off telling him after I quizzed him on the poem he would be going to bed anyway. Then I had him step out of his trousers and underwear and remove his shoes and socks. I took Haley by the shoulders and gently led him to a corner and had him stand in it. I went to fetch the poem for him.
I had chosen "Arthur's Flogging" by Swinburne since the boy being flogged in the poem is Haley's age (13 years old). When I entered the room, I noticed Haley was looking over his shoulder at his bottom as he gingerly ran a finger over some of the welts. He jumped slightly when he noticed I was in the room and quickly put his hand to his side and put his face to the wall.
I pretended I didn't notice and gave Haley the poem. I stayed in the room doing some paperwork as Haley stood there, with his back to me, studying the poem. Credit must be given where credit is due and I must say the boy studies quite hard. It was a good hour before Haley said, "Please, master, I think I'm ready to be quizzed on the poem."
I looked up from the papers on my desk and said, "Very well. Come over to me and I'll quiz you."
Haley walked over and stood beside me. I turned my chair so that I was facing him. He handed me the poem and I began to quiz him. I chose the stanzas out of order in an attempt to confuse him, but he's smart as a whip (so to speak) and never made a fault. Then I gave him this line, "Then faster still the next few cuts are plied".
Haley finished the stanza flawlessly reciting:
"On those round naked fleshy hemispheres, The rosy globes of Arthur's bare backside, The glowing cheeks that stream with crimson tears, Cut after cut on Arthur's naked hide, And at each cut a fresh red streak appears, And a fresh weal for each tough knotty bud, And for each weal a fresh great flake of blood."
However, by the time Haley finished he was blushing furiously. I thought at first that he was worried that he had made a mistake, but then noticed the true cause of his embarrassment. I don't wish to be indelicate, but all I can write is that Haley found that stanza to be particularly "exciting". I ignored Haley's "condition" and quizzed him on another stanza. He again flawlessly recited it and finished with the line,
"While Arthur writhed with agony and roared."
By this time, Haley was blushing to his eyes and to the tips of his ears. His condition had become even more "excited". I told him I was very pleased with his recitations. Then I told him that we were going to have all day Saturday and Sunday to practice, but that I thought we had a good start this evening. Then I told him it was time for bed.
I led him, with my hand on his soft shoulder, to a spare bedroom. He went to his clothing bag and began to take out some pajamas. I said, "Haley, you're not going to need your pajamas. In fact, I think you over packed for this weekend, don't you?"
He gave me the cutest smile and said, "Yes, master."
I pulled the sheets down on the bed so he could hop in. But, before he got on the bed, he planted a kiss on my cheek and said, "Good night, sir."
Then, still obviously "excited", he stretched himself out, face down, on the bed. I told him to behave himself and gave his prettily striped bottom a firm slap and then pulled the sheets over him. I also told him to get up early in the morning as I wouldn't allow any laziness from him. He smiled at the warning and said, "Yes, master."
I left his bedroom door open and then went to my own room to get ready for bed. I wanted to be well rested for tomorrow as I expected it to be a very interesting day.