This is the story of my arrival as geography master at the minor public school 'Keynham Hall' (more often than not pronounced, appropriately enough, as 'Cane 'em 'all'!!) at the beginning of the spring term in 1924.
I had just left Oxford with a second in geography and had applied for an interview for the vacant post of geography master at the little known public school 'Keynham Hall'. The journey to Keynham was an adventure in itself as the school was situated on one of the small islands off the west coast of Scotland. After a very long train journey and a much shorter ferry crossing I finally arrived at the village of Keynham and was directed by one of the local inhabitants to the 'Hall' which was a large forbidding granite building on the highest point of the island surrounded by a few stunted beech trees which obviously suffered from the frequency of westerly gales, as they were all leaning or bending towards the east. I rang the bell at the main entrance and was met by a prim housekeeper who said.
"Oh you must be Mr. Whikham, for the post of geography master.... Mr. Bender, our headmaster is expecting you ... I'll let him know you're here."
She then showed me into a gloomy hallway and asked me to take a seat while she disappeared into the inner recesses of the enormous empty building. It was empty because the spring term was to start in three days time, in fact if I was to prove satisfactory i was to send for my things and remain at the Hall to take up my duties immediately. The atmosphere was somewhat forbidding and I felt rather as if I myself was back at my public school waiting outside my house masters study for a dose of the cane ... a pretty frequent occurrence during the war days ... even if our masters were all over fifty and not many of them were really capable of causing much damage to our resilient young bottoms! While I was musing on my own school days the housekeeper returned and asked me to follow her and I was led down a long cold corridor to a large oaken door on which she knocked with due respect.
"Come!" boomed a not unpleasant deep voice, and the housekeeper ushered me into the august presence of Mr. Bender.
"Ah, hello, Whikham old chap!" said Mr. Bender holding out a large hand to be shaken, "Had a good journey? Well sit down anyway" and he indicated a large uncomfortable looking leather armchair. I sat down still feeling that I was about to be punished for some unknown misdeed. Mr. Bender was a large rather good-looking man of about forty with a dark complexion, bushy brown hair and surprisingly bright blue eyes.
"Let's get straight down to business ...." he started, "I think I should tell you that if you think the Hall suits you I have already decided on the strength of your curriculum to take you on. But it is only fair that I tell you a little about the school and its traditions. We were founded by my uncle at the beginning of the century to cater for boys who were unable to gain entry to more famous institutions, due in most cases to laziness and so-called 'difficult' behavior. Over the years we have obtained a remarkably high standard of academic achievement mainly thanks to our policy of fair but frequent and severe corporal punishment which naturally encourages boys to give of their best. These results and the fact that our boys leave the school full of real gratitude have meant that most in turn have sent their sons here, so now we have quite a long waiting list for places which is why I can offer you such a good salary! But let me come back to the secret of our success: Corporal punishment!"
It was then that I noticed that behind Mr. Bender's desk there was a tall basket, possibly of Indian origin from which protruded about two dozen canes of various types.
"Like my uncle before me I believe that caning serves a double purpose. It serves as an obvious encouragement to do better in everyday life but it also creates a bond of respect and even affection between the boy who is caned and the master who wields the cane. For this reason we carry out caning on a daily rota basis with every master having a day on which he is responsible for caning the boys who have deserved it. Canings are always administered across the naked backside and I encourage all my staff to use the maximum severity. Every evening before bath time the boys who are to be beaten report to the master on caning duty in the Gym wearing only their dressing gowns, which of course are duly removed for their chastisement. The number of strokes administered depends on the seriousness of the offense starting with a minimum of six and rising to a maximum of eighteen for repeated or very serious misdemeanors. The boys have to wait outside the Gym in an orderly line but the order of the canings is determined by the caning master who draws the caning slips out of the punishment box at random. This is so as not to show any favouritism... as of course the boys who are beaten last have to go throughout the suspense of hearing the sounds and associated with severe bare-bottomed beatings while contemplating their own fate. Most boys finish their time at Keynham having been caned by most, if not all the masters, and so they have a kind of caning scale by which the masters are judged and I can assure you that the most popular masters are those renowned for the severity of their caning technique. In fact I feel I ought to tell you that your predecessor was almost forced to relinquish his post because the boys considered him a 'wet' due to the leniency of his canings! We then have another type of caning which is administered by me personally in front of the whole school and consists of twelve strokes .... one for each of the twelve classes we have here. Each class votes every week for the boy they most feel ought! to be publicly caned and the boy who gets the most votes or in case of a tie those with the same number of votes are caned on Saturday evening by me in front of the school assembly. Usually there is only one boy to be caned, although once there were twelve different names in the class votes so I actually caned twelve boys in front of the rest of the school! The boys most at risk from their equals are the prefects who have to be very careful to be fair in their dealing with the other boys or they can be sure that they'll be up before all of us for a Saturday caning. Occasionally the voted boy is a bully or someone who has disgraced the school in the boys' eyes, in almost every case I have found their democratic judgment to quite fair and the public caning eminently deserved. As there are twenty four members of staff, you will be on caning duty about once every three weeks. An average day sees about twenty boys on the caning list with an average of ten strokes a head, so caning duty can be quite exhausting, in fact I advise all our masters to do several sessions of rope climbing in the gym each week so as to keep their arm muscles well in trim. Well that about covers our punishment system for the rest we are much like other schools ...prefects are allowed to cane younger boys for minor offenses but only over pygiamas and only after obtaining permission from me. You may think all this sounds unduly severe .. but I can assure you that the boys appreciate it ... in fact once a month I hold a meeting for old Keynhamites who wish to be caned to keep them on the ball and there are rarely fewer than thirty chaps present . The more recent old boys choose who they wish to be caned by of the present masters, the older ones are automatically caned by me, afterwards there is a buffet supper provided by the excellent Mrs. Goodall who you have already met and much reminiscing of their days at Keynham. In fact all Keynhamites past and present refer to the school as 'Cane'em 'all' although we are not usually prone to dro! pping our aitches! There is however one other thing I must tell you ..... which may make you change your mind about coming here."
I was thinking to myself this sound like a fantastic school and was already imagining myself thrashing a whole series of teenaged bottoms!
"I am absolutely convinced that masters should always be aware of the effect a severe caning produces on a bare backside. So the day before each term begins all masters are asked to submit to twelve strokes across their naked backside as laid on by our grounds man Jim McTaverty, Jim is a local champion at tossing the caber and is very efficient at performing this extra duty. I do not exempt myself, and in fact as headmaster I get Jim to give me eighteen strokes. All of us masters witness each others punishments so as to be sure that we all are given an equally sharp reminder of what a full force caning feels like before dealing out caning slips to the boys. Now what do you say to all this? Are you ready to join our happy band? If you are remember that the Spring master's caning will be the day after tomorrow!"
My heart was thumping with excitement ... all that talk of caning bare arses had got me into a state of extraordinary anticipation ... and the idea of being caned again was by no means an unpleasant prospect ... in fact it was the deciding factor that made me say.
"I'm utterly fascinated by your system and more than willing to become part of it. If you're sure I'm the right man for the job I'll phone for my things at once, and book into the local pub for tonight."
"Good man ... then welcome aboard ... and no need to go to the pub I'll have Mrs. Goodall prepare your room immediately and you can eat with us for today and tomorrow and then of course you will be eating with the boys like all the masters."
I was soon settled in, and when the gong sounded for supper I went down to Mr. Benders private dining room and joined him and Mrs. Goodall for a frugal meal. After supper Mr. Bender invited me to take a port with him in his study, and we were soon ensconced in the uncomfortable armchairs chatting like old friends about our own schooldays and not surprisingly about canings we had received. Mr. Bender who asked me to call him 'Bendy' as everyone else did, told me how twelve strokes of a well soaked senior cane as dealt out by Jim McTaverty would surpass any of my memories of previous canings.... he then told me that the present chemistry master was a keen amateur photographer who developed his own plates and he had taken a series of photos of the results of the master's autumn term beatings and that if I was interested he would show them to me.
I said I was most interested, and Bendy opened a drawer and took out a large photo album which he passed to me.
" 'Stinker' .... that's the chemistry master, only photographed the most spectacular stripes. The first one is of me after my eighteen ....quite a sight as you can see!!"
Indeed it was! A large muscular bum was criss crossed by a series of overlapping raised dark weals, of course in the days before colour, I could only imagine the range of purples and dark reds they must have been.
"Wow!" I exclaimed in admiration.
"We use a thick cane which causes severe bruising but very rarely bleeding which I think is more wholesome, but I can assure you the pain is quite devastating and I take all my lessons in the first week of term standing in front of the class!!! The boys, of course know nothing of the master's caning although they do know about the old boys as they of course here the telltale sounds of cane on flesh as well as the odd vocal protest!"
I turned over the pages of the album and admired another five heavily welted bums and then a picture of a massive bearded guy wearing only a kilt flexing a heavy duty senior cane across his hairy chest.
"That's Jim, the author of the stripes posing after performing his duties." Bendy informed me.
I was needless to say duly impressed and began to feel a stirring in my groin and a tingling across my nether cheeks.
"Well, before turning in you can help me select the cane we shall be giving him to use the day after tomorrow because I shall put it to soak in my bath from tonight onwards ... it makes it twice as heavy and a good deal more flexible... you will have noticed from the photos how the stripes wrap right round both cheeks ... Jim of course after several years practice now has acquired a perfect angle of attack combined with a spectacular run up technique."
I felt my mouth go dry as 'Bendy' began taking the canes out of the basket and laying them on his desk. I picked up one of the longest, absolutely fascinated by its smoothness, weight, flexibility and yellowy-brown colour.
"That one'll do the job beautifully, I'll put it to soak before going to bed. So see you tomorrow, I've really enjoyed getting to know you and I can see that you are definitely on the same wavelength as the rest of here at Keynham and I'm sure you'll really enjoy your time with us"
And so we went to our respective rooms ... I little thinking that one day I would become headmaster on 'Bendys' retirement and be instrumental in keeping the traditions of Keynham alive until my own retirement, in 1965.
I spent the following day exploring the grounds and buildings and had a look round the village too, but whatever I was doing I could not help thinking about the next day and Jim McTaverty and of course they heavy duty cane soaking in Bendy's bathtub!
The next day the other masters began to arrive. They were mostly under fifty and several were only a few years older than me. They seemed a jovial crew and were all clearly as excited as me over the evening meeting in the gym with the giant Jim Mctaverty.
At last the fated hour arrived and as the clock struck nine we all trooped into the gym wearing nothing but our dressing gowns to be greeted by Bendy who invited us to take our seats in the two rows of twelve chairs that had been set out facing a vaulting horse that had been positioned end on in the centre of the Gym. Beside the horse stood the bearded giant who was clearly recognizable from the photo as Jim Mctaverty. He was wearing a kilt and a white cotton tee shirt which left his bulging, muscular hairy arms naked for us to admire.
When everyone was settled, Bendy got up and welcomed everyone and presented me to the other masters officially and then asked Jim McTaverty to carry on. Jim stripped off his tee-shirt revealing his broad hairy chest and picked up the wet cane from where it was lying on the vaulting horse.
"Thank you, Sir." he smiled through his dark beard. "Well gentlemen, here we are again for your term reminder of how painful a well administered caning can be, as usual Mr. Bender has asked me to begin with him, so as headmaster he can give you all an example. Mr. Bender will also receive six extra stokes, on his request making a total of eighteen strokes. The order of the other gentlemen will depend on the names Mr. Bender will then draw out of my sporran. Now Sir if you don't mind taking off your dressing gown and bending over the end of the horse we can get down to the real business of the evening."
Bendy removed his dressing gown to display a well toned muscular body and an impressive erection! He bent over the end of the vaulting horse and stretched his arms along its top gripping its sides firmly. Jim paced out six steps in a curve to the back and left of the bending figure and began flexing and swishing the cane, There was a feeling of general excitement and all eyes were transfixed on the hairy giant's preparatory moves. With six heavy accelerating strides Jim ran up to his target and smashed the first devastating stroke into Bendy's waiting arse. The cane bit deep into the flesh and wrapped neatly round both buttocks. Bendy's head shot back and he gripped onto the horse still harder and gasped, clearly in considerable pain. As Jim returned slowly to his starting point a dark red raised weal began to appear across the white bum flesh and rapidly began filling with blood under the skin and turning purple. Jim turned and moved in for the second stroke which landed just above the first causing Bendy to groan and his buttocks to clench and unclench as if trying to shake off the agony. Jim applied each stroke with all his considerable force and after the sixth began to cover already bruised flesh Bendy began to vocalize more audibly with each stroke and by the twelfth he could actually be described as screaming. Jim was absolutely methodical keeping up the slow powerful and obviously excruciatingly painful rhythm until the eighteenth and last stroke.
"Thank you Jim." Bendy managed to mutter as he struggled painfully to his feet, "Its amazing how quickly one forgets just how agonizing a good caning can be ... but after all that's what we're all here for. I can assure you all that Jim has lost none of his prowess since the autumn!! Now let's see who's next."
And he began fumbling in Jim's sporran which was clearly covering an enormous erection, in fact Jim obviously enjoyed the sporran business almost as much as the canings. Still naked and still erect but with a really devastated backside Bendy read out the next name. My heart was pounding ...but it wasn't me!
"Mr. Bowles!"
Mr. Bowles came forward retrieving Bendy's dressing gown as he did so. As Bendy put it on Bowles removed his. He too was a fine specimen of manhood, in fact he was the gym teacher. He too was erect but paying little attention to the fact he stretched himself over the horse without waiting to be told. Jim took up position.
"Are you ready Mr. Bowles, Sir?" he asked politely.
"Yes, Jim giv'em to me and mak'em hard!" replied the intrepid Bowles, and the routine began again.
I was hypnotized by the sights and sounds I was witnessing ... the thumping strides of the run up, the swoosh of the cane, the grunt of Jim's effort, the crack of cane on flesh and the gasps groans and screams of the beaten men. Some managed to keep fairly still, others writhed and kicked their legs in the air between each stroke but no-one let go his grip, on the horse or attempted to get up.
I wondered if Jim was tiring as he finished caning the twelfth man who as he returned to his place tried to conceal the fact that he had actually had an orgasm during his ordeal. All the caned men had sported erections before their canings and most of them still had them as they returned to their seats. I had almost forgotten that I was not only a spectator when I heard Bendy call out:
"Mr. Whikham!"
I rose from my seat and removed my dressing gown .... I too had an erection in fact I felt as if I was about to burst into a massive orgasm and my heart was racing!
"Well. Sir you've seen what to do so please bend over the horse and hold onto the sides as far in front of you as you can reach." said Jim as he took up position for the thirteenth caning of the evening.
He was now sweating profusely from his exertions and as he passed near me I could smell the arousing aroma of fresh male sweat emanating from his hairy body. I waited for the first stroke in an ecstasy of apprehension and excitement. I heard the thudding strides of the giant scot's run-up... Iheard the swoosh of the cane..... I heard the craaack as it made contact with my naked fleshh...... and then I was hurled into another world, made up of fire and ice and bursting sensations in various parts of my shuddering body.... was I having an orgasm?....no... it was pain pure perfect delicious unbelievable pain!!! I was gasping for breath when I heard somewhere a long way off the unmistakable sounds of a heavy man running towards me again I got a whiff of hot fresh male sweat and again I heard the swoosh and the craaack and a new sound .....a desperate wail... could this really be my voice? or was I hallucinating. I don't know if my eyes were open or shut I seemed only able to feel and hear. I gripped the horse with all my force but my legs seemed to flail about of their own accord.... as stroke followed stroke... through the sea of agony I became aware of a new sensation: I was about to explode to become one with the world of white pain which emanating from my backside was whirling around my being. Was this my dying hour? I had completely lost count of the strokes I had received but just as I began to melt and my life force began shooting out of me in a series of violent shudders, I heard someone say:
"Twelve!"
I remained draped over the horse pulsating in agony and pleasure as I inundated the horse with jet after jet of hot sperm. When I eventually managed to stand up my _c_o_c_k_ was limp and the horse was slimy with freshly ejaculated sperm. I muttered an apology and offered to clean up the mess with a handkerchief which I had in my dressing gown pocket but Jim said that it was tradition that if anybody came during their beating any evidence was to be left to encourage those still to be punished. As I returned somewhat embarrassed to my seat I gingerly felt my arse it felt like hot corrugated iron and as I put my dressing gown on even the contact with the prickly camel hair felt like showers of sparks. As I squeezed past Mr. Bowles on the way back to my seat he whispered.
"Well you certainly seemed to enjoy yourself!!"
"I suppose I did in a way" I replied. "But I've never experienced anything like it before."
The remaining canings were carried out in the same meticulous way and I was amazed at Jim's staying power. Several other men had orgasms after me adding slime to the horse and even leaving a little puddle on the floor.
When the last man had received his caning, Bendy announced that he and Jim had decided to introduce a new aspect to the evening as a conclusion. Each master starting again with bendy himself was to give Jim one stroke on his bare arse as a sign of thanks for his stalwart work. There was a round of applause at this announcement and another when Jim removed his kilt revealing his oversized manhood still in a fully excited state.
"Bend over Jim!" said Bendy and you lot form a line behind me and wait your turn.
"I suggest you remove your dressing gowns again as you will be able to get more force into your swing."
So saying he removed his and took up position before the hairy arse presented to us. His opening stroke was a masterpiece and Jim gasped, writhed and wriggled in obvious appreciation. As each master unrobed again we could see the now fully developed welts on each other's bums and look forward to repaying Jim with interest. Most of the masters were clearly expert caners and Jim was soon giving full throat to his appreciation. I was twentieth but only succeeded in making Jim yell loudly. In fact he somehow managed to control himself and only began to have an astonishing orgasm after the twenty-third stroke and during the last. He continued twitching and moaning for almost half a minute before heaving himself off the horse and thanking us all for a fantastic evening and wishing us all a very good but uncomfortable night. At almost midnight we all went up to our rooms to have a look at our own bums in the mirror before trying to find a reasonably comfortable position on our stomachs to enable us to get at least some sleep.
(to be continued.... perhaps)