Phil Bevis was nearing the end of his career as an Army P. T. instructor and at thirty six was still in excellent physical condition. Surprisingly, for someone who instilled such fear in young recruits, many of whom were splendid physical specimens, he was just five foot eight tall, though well built with good rugby players thighs and muscular arms. He was loud voiced and his attitude to the youths and young men under his tuition was brash, surly and generally as unpleasant as he could possibly be. His distinctive Welsh accent shouted out instructions and insults with equal ferocity. It was back in the early 1960's and although corporal punishment in the Army had long been abolished, such was the force of his personality that he very soon found that he could 'get away' with applying a large army gymshoe across the shorts clad backsides of the younger recruits with no fear of retribution, indeed his superior Officers, fully aware of his unnoficial actions all privately condoned such behaviour so turned a 'blind eye' to the frequent 'slipperings' that took place in the gymnasium and the changing room.
As the time approached for his 'retirement' from the service, his commanding Officer suggested that he take up teaching. Phil was slightly taken back at the idea, but when the Officer continued,
"It would suit you down to the ground.........and you can wallop the bloody boys as much as you like quite legally!"
he turned his mind to just that and found to his surprise that it was very easy to obtain a position as a 'games master'. His exemplorary record and glowing testimonials helped of course. It was thus that he found himself appointed Games Master at a medium sized secondary school in the south of England.
At his interview he was shown to the gym andd dintroduced to the retiring Teacher, an elderly man with a wide smile who 'took to' the younger man immediately. Phil in fact was having second thoughts. Upon inspection the gym was old fashioned and lacking in equipment. The changing room and showers were thirty years out of date and the whole school which had been built in the early part of the century was dour and uninviting. The turning point to his attitude came when the older Teacher, breaking off mid sentence, suddenly bellowed to a boy,
"Haskins!.......COME HERE BOY!"
A thin boy, about thirteen, came running across the gym, his bare feet pattering. He stood red faced in front of the Teacher and Phil. The games Master reached forward and took a firm grip on the boys ear, squeezing, then pulling the lads head down, thus forcing the boy to bend over.
"Stay down!"
The boy was touching his toes now, his thin cotton shorts stretched tightly across his young bottom. He remained in position as the Teacher said, 'excuse me' to Phil then quickly strode across the gym to the door where he picked up a table tennis bat from a small shelf fixed to the wall. Striding back to the boy without any preamble he raised the bat high and swung it down onto the boys bottom. There was a tremendous 'CRACK!' which echoed through the gym as the hard surface made contact with boy bottom. The lad yellped but stayed down as five more tremendously hefty whacks were applied to his backside.
"UP!"
The crying boy slowly stood up and immediately wiped the tears from his face.
"ON THE HORSE!"
Quickly the boy dashed across to the vaulting horse and awkwardly climbed onto its padded top. The games master then slowly walked across to the boy and gave the backs of his thighs two hefty slaps, so hard that the lad had difficulty retaining his balance.
"HANDS ON HEAD!"
As the still crying boy placed his hands on his head the Teacher grabbed the bottoms of the lads shorts and with a swift tug pulled them down to the boys ankles so that he was standing, his bare bottom bright red from the paddling, on full view. The master gave a shrill whistle and yelled,
"Carry on!"
The rest of the class instantly resumed their activities, ignoring the spectacle of the paddled boy standing 'on display' his bare bottom glowing.
The older man turned to Phil and said,
"Only way to treat 'em!......give 'em a good walloping and put 'em on display.........soon stops any nonsence!"
Phil who was having difficulty hiding his erection just nooded approval, privately thinking that this was indeed the ideal job!......he couldn't wait to start. He had been surprised at the ferocity of the paddling the young boy had recieved. He himself had always applied the gym shoe with great force to his recruits backsides, but they were after all young men.....this boy had been as harshly punished.
"Do you always, well, hit so hard?" he asked.
The games Teacher nodded.
"Yep!......no bloody point hitting them softly is there!"
After ten minutes the lesson ended and with a dire warning to 'kkep quiet' the boys were ordered back into the changing room. The paddled boy was instructed to jump down and rejoin his classmates. Hastily tugging up his shorts the boy had jumped to the floor and run after his friends. More slowly the two men left the gym and entered the changing room. The boys were all by now heading into the showers, a scamper of bare feet on the cold tiles. The Teacher went into his small 'office' and turned on the water. There were loud gasps as cold water gushed from the shower heads.
"QUIET!........one more sound and I'll slipper the lot of you!"
There was silence except for the hissing of the water. Phil wandered to the opening to the showers, there, all the boys were huddled together in one large open space as the water gushed from the shower heads which were overhead. He noticed the red botom of the paddled boy as he attempted to worm his way into the throng. Moving away he smiled to himself. To his surprise there was a sudden loud 'THWACK!' followed by an equally loud cry. Dashing back to the opening he was in time to see a boy holding a towel. The boy who had been paddled was clutching at his bottom where a fresh weal was clearly visible. It was obvious that the boy had been flicked with a towel. The boy holding the towel laughed but fell silent when he noticed Phil standing watching.
"Sorry Sir!" he mumbled, unaware who Phil was but assuming he was a figure of authority. At that moment the games master joined Phil.
"Who made that noise?" he shouted angrily.
The paddled boy miserably raised his hand. Cold water streaming down his body he looked the picture of misery.
Phil whispered into the Teachers ear.
"So Jenkins........you find flicking Haskins backside amusing do you?"
The boy with the towel shook his head but didn't speak. The games Teacher turned on his heel and left the scene. Suddenly the water stopped and there was total silence. He reappeared this time gripping a large plimsol. He pointed it at Jenkins.
"As you find the idea of whacking Haskins backside so amusing lets make you really laugh.......COME HERE!"
The boy stepped forward from the wet shower room.
"OVER!"
The lad his body still wet, touched his toes.
'THWACK!' the gymshoe landed squarely on the boys naked bottom causing him to yell loudly.
"Not laughing boy?........I'll have to try harder won't I!"
'THWACK!' this time the slipper struck the boys right cheek. Again he yellped.
"Dear dear!.......still not laughing!"
'THWACK!' the left cheek was walloped.
"I will not tolerate bullying lad!"
'THWACK!' 'THWACK!' 'THWACK!' three more times the plimsol landed on the naked flesh until the boys whole bottom was well and truly slippered, barely an inch of bottom flesh left untouched. The boys whole backside was scarlet and he was crying loudly.
"UP!"
The sobbing boy rose and clutched at his bottom. The Teacher gripped the lads ear and guided him back into the shower room, then he returned to his office and and turned the water back on. This time Phil followed him into the small room. He had his hand in his pocket pressing down his erection. Closing the door the older man slumped into his chair, then glancing at Phil he grinned.
"Holding it down lad!.....don't worry, happens to me all the time, why do you think Im wearing all this lot?"
He indicated his tracksuit trousres, a pair of shorts under those, and apparently, a pair of underpants beneath the shorts.
"If you plan to whack 'em I suggest you do likewise........can't have a master walking around with a hard on showing can we lad!"
He laughed loudly, and Phil joined in, amazed that someone else seemed to enjoy the same reaction to 'spanking'.
"I certainly intend to continue with your, ah.....methods!" he said.
"Good! remember, whack 'em hard and often, it'll keep you sane!"
He then stood and began to strip off his clothes. Phil was impressed with the older mans good shape despite his years, but being impressed turned to amazement as the master peeled down his underpants. He had his back to Phil, but just before slipping into the small shower cubicle in the corner of the room, he turned to grab a towel from the back of the chair. To Phil's surprise the master was unashamedly sporting a very small but very erect penis! Noticing Phil's gaze the Teacher grinned,
"Often happens.........thats why I can never shower with the boys!"
Stepping into the cubicle he turned on a steaming jet of hot water. Soaping his hands he had his back to Phil but the movement of his right arm made it quite clear as to what portion of his anatomy was recieving particular attention! Phil almost came in his underpants as he watched.
He knew now without a doubt that this was going to be the perfect job.........!