Twenty or so eleven- and twelve-year-olds shared one dormitory and they now stood to attention by their beds. Actually, these were not exactly beds, they were just thin mattresses spread on the cement floor. They had just emerged from their bath and were waiting for the supervisor's inspection. They were quite naked as the use of pyjamas was prohibited.
Mr. Graham had inspection duty that evening and he was in a bad mood because he had other plans before he was told to replace Mr. Goddard who had fallen ill. The boys all looked clean and despite all the humiliating searching, he found little to criticise. Each boy had to bend and spread his buttocks and Graham chuckled at the careful way most of them handled their sore backsides. He peered into mouth, ears, checked arm pits, genitals and feet.
"William, Geoffrey, Martin, Basil and Robert. You will stand. The rest of under the blanket," he finally announced. Fifteen small boys quickly dived under their thin blankets. They knew what came next.
"Geoffrey," Graham instructed a small eleven-year-old, "bring me the tawse." The naked boy obediently went to the hook by the window and brought the heavy tawse to the waiting supervisor.
"Get back to your bed and kneel down, knees well spread." He watched as the boy did as he was told. Then he stood by the boy's side and raised the tawse. "You will receive a dozen on each cheek," he announced, "for not trimming your toe nails properly." The room soon echoed with the loud smacks as leather connected with bare flesh. The method employed by Graham was to have the tails curl around the buttock right into the cleft. The boy's howls were proof of its effectiveness. After the whipping was completed, young Geoffrey stood by his bed awaiting instructions.
All right, Martin, you're next. A dozen on each buttocks for - " he thought for a moment - "not drying properly between your toes." And the procedure was repeated. And repeated once more for a tall, slender boy named Robert. His backside was well bruised and he screamed quite a bit as the leather snapped at the sore parts.
"Basil, come here." Graham watched the boy approach hesitantly. "I'm going to make an example of you and young William here," he said. "It seems the two of you have become very friendly so I think both should be punished equally. The Director has instructed me to keep an eye on you and to be especially severe if you fault in any way. Now I've noticed a distinct reluctance in you to obey orders and do your required chores. I have also been told that your lessons are poor, that you don't put any effort into it. Mr. Burbank has also mentioned to the Director that your PE is deficient - again a lack of initiative and effort. You will hear more about that tomorrow morning, I'm sure. Right now, I will just deal with your negligence during bath time. You were also the last to finish. You and William. Bring the chair over here."
Basil went to the indicated chair and brought it closer. "Bend over the back, feet apart. You will be the proud beneficiary of two dozen on each of those nicely bruised cheeks. Over!" he added sharply as Basil hesitated. "Three extra for this renewed disobedience."
Graham found nothing in those well-striped buttocks that prevented him from applying the tawse full strength. Nor did the boy's howls influence him in the least, except perhaps to strike even harder. He watched the flesh shake at each impact, the skin grow a darker red making the previous cane marks stand out purple on the tomato-red backdrop.
Twenty-seven strokes later, he allowed the blubbering lad to rise and stand by his bed, hands on his head. William's turn was next and he also received two dozen, screaming as loudly as his friend had. Stroke after stroke snapped down sharply, landing mostly on the lower portions of the buttocks, the under bum and the upper thighs. The boy's middle was a sea of flames by the time he stood by his bed.
Graham watched the two whipped boys for a moment with undisguised amusement and then told them to get under their blanket.
"Not a single noise out of any of you," he warned, "or there'll be a repeat performance." He turned and left the room. One minute later the lights went out and the dormitory was quiet except for the low whimpers from five owners of throbbing and burning young buttocks.
The next morning was dark and overcast. A cold wind had blown in from the Channel bringing the threat of winter closer. Twenty boys were lined up wearing nothing but skimpy little rugby shorts that left a half-moon of bare buttocks in full view. They stood shivering and still half asleep, while Burbank surveyed the sorry bunch. He held a three-tailed whip which he used freely to encourage the boys in their physical endeavours. He liked to use this whip around the boys' legs and watch them squeal and jump to get out of the way.
"Basil, I am very disappointed in your yesterday's performance. Your run was supposed to have been completed in one hour, certainly enough time for a boy your age to cover the eight laps. You took exactly 67 minutes by my stopwatch; this is unacceptable. Take your shorts down and bend over."
Basil hadn't slept very well the night before. His backside had given him trouble finding the right position. Now his bottom felt frozen and hearing the order, he began to cry.
"None of that nonsense, my boy," Burbank barked. "I'll have no disobedience from you, boy. Basil, you will have twenty with the whip and if you don't drop your shorts this instant, it'll be thirty."
Still crying, Basil pushed down his tight little shorts and bent over. Last night's tawsing still showed livid welts all down his bottom and thighs. "Bend over," Burbank ordered, his eyes on the bruised parts. Then he raised the whip.
The three tails were plaited and frayed at the tips. These now cut into the boy's still tender backside twenty times. "Very well," Burbank said, "you may get dressed. You will repeat the eight laps and you will do it in 57 minutes or I'll take the cane to that naughty backside of yours. Now go!" He looked at his stopwatch, pressed the button and watched the boy start running.
They were assembled around the athletic fields where morning calisthenics always took place. The swimming pool was also nearby and Burbank thought a cold dip would wake up these sleepyheads.
"All right, every one, off with your shorts and into the pool. Last one in will get eight with the cane!"
There was a wild commotion as shorts were stripped off and then a race to the pool. A few hardy ones dived in without the slightest hesitation, others looked down at the cold water and shivered, hugging themselves to warms themselves (without much effect) and then finally decided to enter the pool. Burbank watched and made some notes. Some of these boys needed to learn how to dive.
Basil was running as hard as he could. He saw from afar how the other boys jumped into the pool and, despite the cold wind, envied them. Here he was, panting and already drenched in sweat, and he hadn't even completed one lap. His bottom was tingling. When he had completed the first lap, he passed Burbank who was waiting for him. The little whip flashed and whipped around the boy's calves. "Faster, boy, faster. If you dawdle like that, you won't make it even in 67 minutes. Hurry up, boy!"
Basil was gasping for air and a stitch in his side was getting worse. Three more laps, half-way through. His legs now stung as well after having passed Burbank three times and gotten a few good cuts around his thighs or calves each time. He was tired after the fifth and could hardly move his legs. He had started too fast and now couldn't finish. Not in 57 minutes nor, probably in 67 minutes. The thought of one of Burbank's severe canings brought tears to his eyes again. His bottom hurt at each step. When he passed Burbank on the sixth laps, Burbank followed him for several steps lashing at the boys legs.
"Faster, you lazy little bugger," he roared at the panting boy. "I will deal with your stubbornness after you're finished and you won't like it. Now pick up your pace or it will be even worse for you."
Making a last, desperate effort, Basil ran faster for that last laps and collapsed by Burbank's feet when he finally reached the end of his run. Burbank looked at this watch. "62 minutes," he said. "That's five minutes late. You will get six for each minute. Report to me after PE period."
The other boys, shorts back on, had meantime left the pool and were doing calisthenics. Basil was ordered to join them even though he could hardly move. Burbank was unimpressed with the boy's whimpered complaints. He knew how to deal with lazy boys. Make them work harder and ignore their excuses. Use the cane freely and they'll soon learn.
After the two-hour PE session was completed, the boys were marched back inside for their morning bath, followed by dressing in their uniforms and then breakfast. All too soon, lessons started. But Burbank had kept Basil back after PE.
"I'm going to teach you to put some effort into your workouts, boy," he said, taking the boy's arm and marching him to a vaulting horse. "Take your shorts off and get on the horse. I will now use the cane on you and see if that has more effect on you than the little whip." While the boy stripped his shorts off and mounted the horse, Burbank went to where he kept his canes in a tool shed. He selected the heaviest available and returned to the boy who lay prone across the padded body of the horse, quite bare, displaying a spectacularly red and purple behind.
Burbank approached his pupil swishing the cane. The exposed buttocks were begging to be properly disciplined. "I will limit your caning to two dozen, my boy, but they will be hard one, I can assure you. And if tomorrow you don't improve on your run, it'll be three dozen. I hope I make myself clear."
Basil muttered something and tensed his body. He felt the cane stroke his tender bottom and he clenched even tighter. "Hurts more if you clench," Burbank said and brought the cane down in a wide arc with all the considerable strength of his right arm and shoulder. The boy screeched in pain as he felt the salutary effect of that first fleshy cut.
The boys in the classroom with windows facing the playing fields could hear the plaintive cries of the young culprit getting what he deserved. They were used to such scenes, so they paid little attention. They required to concentrate theirsmall minds to the studies or they would be in a similar position themselves.
After the first dozen terrific strokes, Basil had screamed himself hoarse and now lay limp and trembling across the horse. His bottom felt whipped through and he was too exhausted to resist. Burbank recognised the symptoms and decided to make a good pause and have the boy recover. No use beating a boy if he doesn't feel the effect of each single stroke to the fullest. He sat by the pool and watched the boy's limp figure. He would talk to Graham. This boy, whom the Director had brought to the school for a few weeks, certainly needed stern discipline. He had been instructed to have Basil do these runs daily, always increasing the distance while reducing the time limit. It had not been easy. The boy lacked enthusiasm and made little effort to improve. So the cane had to be used on a regular basis but even with such encouragement, his progress was slow and grudging. This had to change.
After about thirty minutes, Burbank decided to apply the second dozen and conclude this punishment so the boy could get back to his class. He would be in trouble anyway for arriving late and Burbank chuckled when he thought about Graham's response to such lateness. He accepted no excuses and having been caned for idling certainly wasn't going to cut any ice with Graham. He picked up the cane and approached the prone boy.
"All right, my boy," he said kindly, "let's continue. I'm sure you want to get this over with." Basil did but cringed at the thought of the renewed cane across his sore and throbbing buttocks. He steeled himself. The boys inside the classroom heard the renewed cries which lasted for another four or five minutes. Then there was silence outside.
Five minutes later, Basil, with a red and tear-stained face, appeared wearing his PE shorts and singlet. He walked stiffly and held his bottom with both hands. He went to his seat and sat very carefully. His bare legs touched those of William who gave him a little smile.
Graham stopped in mid sentence and glared at Basil.
"What's the meaning of this, boy?" he yelled at the boy. "You're late and you're not in uniform. You will come to my apartments at noon. We will discuss this new impertinence." Then lessons proceeded as usual. Three boys were called to the front, including William, to be soundly caned for mistakes in their lessons.
The entire morning Basil was in dread of what awaited him at Graham's study. He would probably miss lunch just as he had missed breakfast. But somehow he wasn't feeling very hungry. His stomach contracted painfully at the thought of what Graham was going to do to him.