Cane Or Gym Shoe?


by Realist II

Here is another excerpt from the diary of the seventeen year old new head of Middle House. In this one, we discover that his name is Turner and see how he copes with a tricky problem.

MY THIRTIETH DAY

A difficult prefects meeting today. I am accused of being too lenient to the new boys. The prefects are concerned that although I have used the gym shoe on six of the thirteen year olds so far, I have not yet caned any of them. I pointed out that I have shown I am quite prepared to use the cane where necessary. Only yesterday, I caned three fourteen year olds and one fifteen year old. But they say that it is almost unheard of to be three weeks into term without a single thirteen year old having been caned. I made the point that the feedback shows that no boy who has had the gym shoe has considered (at least after the event) that he has had the soft option. What is more, all the prefects have now seen me beat thirteen year olds and all have complimented me on my technique. I assured them that I was absolutely confident that I will cane one or more of the new boys very soon. I also said, to put their minds at rest, that I would announce a general policy of using the cane on any boy who has four or more demerits unless there are very clear reasons for not doing so.

Of course, no sooner have I announced my policy on four demerits than Clarke, of all people, manages to collect four. His first was 27 days ago. He got another one 15 days ago. This afternoon he picked up two for having his jacket unbuttoned and his hand in his pocket. I have to say that I think it is being a bit pedantic to give two demerits for that sort of behaviour on the same occasion. If Clarke asks me to cancel one of them I would be minded to do so. On the other hand, it might not be a good idea for him to be known as a complainer. I have asked Simpson (the star new boy who shares a study with him) to come and see me later to talk the problem over with him.

I have now seen Simpson. I must say, the more I get to know him the more impressed I am. I told him that my concern was that I had hoped to break Clarke into serious corporal punishment slowly. I had always assumed that his first beating could be three with the gym shoe. I could only do that now if I cancelled one of his demerits. Simpson said that he had already talked to Clarke about the possibility of complaining about one of the demerits, but that the boy had apparently said that he was absolutely determined not to do that. Simpson said that he had agreed with that approach. Not surprisingly, Clarke is apparently very nervous at the prospect of being caned, but is being very brave about it. Simpson thinks that it could be a blessing in disguise. He says that Clarke is becoming more and more confident. He is no longer showing signs of homesickness. He is doing excellently, as I can testify, on the games pitches. If he can also manage to be the first new boy to be caned, his popularity amongst his peers should become confirmed once and for all.

I explained that my general plan had been to make sure that when I first caned a new boy he would report back that it was exceptionally painful. While, of course, I could go easy on Clarke, I was not sure that that would be a good idea. Many of the new boys will either have been caned at prep school or will have seen the stripes of those who had been. If Clarke's stripes did not seem as bad there would be two problems. First, other boys would think that getting the cane from me was not so bad after all and second, the kudos for him of being the first to get the cane may not be so great. Things would, in fact, only get worse for him when then next new boy was caned because his stripes would be worse than Clarke's and everyone would conclude that Clarke had been given special treatment.

Simpson said he knew that Clarke would hate to get special treatment and that my only option was to use full force with the cane. It seemed to me that he was right. But I have to say that I am terrified that the shock may be too great for him and that he might cry, which would be a disaster for him and not at all pleasant for me. Simpson said he is pretty confident that there will be no crying. But he went on to say that he reckoned Clarke would find it easier if someone else was caned at the same time. I said that, at the moment, no one else had three or more demerits. He then said this:

"Well, I've got two and I might well get two more by tomorrow. I suppose I might just swear at you now, without thinking, and then I'd be for it".

I told him not to dream of it. First, I said, no one would believe that he had sworn at me when he already had two demerits (or at all) unless he was trying to get punished at the same time as Clarke, which would hardly help Clarke's reputation. Also, I pointed out, if he had four demerits I would have to give him at least three (its being a second beating) which would again not help Clarke, to whom I was intending to give two. I did point out, however, that if he only had three demerits I could certainly give him two with the cane on the grounds that he had already been beaten with a gym shoe. As soon as I said it, however, I corrected myself for even contemplating such a ploy. All Simpson said was:

"I suppose I ought to go to tea now. Shall I wait for you outside your study and walk there with you?"

I thought that a bit odd, but said it was OK if he wanted to. He then left and I cleared up my desk and followed him out a couple of minutes later. I suppose I should have realised what I would see. Simpson had his back to me with one hand nonchalantly in his pocket. Another boy came out of his study at that moment and saw what I saw. He also saw that I had seen it as well. I had no alternative but to demand Simpson's demerits book. I took him back into my study and entered one demerit. I also told him that, while some might say he was stupid, I thought him incredibly loyal and kind to Clarke. He replied, typically:

"I reckon that I must be due for the cane by now, otherwise my character would suffer dreadfully."

We agreed that I would cane Clarke first, so that he could still be the first new boy to get it and would not have the added distress of listening to Simpson's strokes being administered. I said I looked forward to seeing him at break tomorrow. He said, with a mischievous grin on his face, that he wasn't sure that he was looking forward to tomorrow.

No beatings tonight.

MY THIRTY FIRST DAY

At mid-morning break I saw Clarke first. He was nervous, but composed. I asked him whether he wanted to complain about any of his demerits. He said he didn't. I then explained that he must realise that I was left with no alternative but to recommend that he be given two with the cane. He said he did. I asked whether he thought that was fair. He said it was and that he couldn't have complained if I had suggested three. I said I would see him in the afternoon. Simpson then came in and I went through the form with him before releasing him until the afternoon.

Mr Blakeson was a little concerned about Clarke getting the cane. He was also concerned about the boy having been given two demerits rather than one for dress code misconduct. I said I agreed, but Clarke appeared to be a decent boy who did not want to complain. The punishments were confirmed.

The boys seemed quite cheerful, although apprehensive, when I gave them the news this afternoon. There had also been a bit of luck. Watson, one of the prefects, is ill. That means that there will not be a prefect who can be spared from prep supervision to witness the beatings. I told Simpson that that was good because I could ask him to witness Clarke's beating. If there were any tears, no one else need know about it. I told Clarke that he would have to witness Simpson's beating, but did not explain why it was such a good idea that no prefect would be there.

Unfortunately, I have to show a prospective father round the house this evening, so I won't be able to beat the boys until right at the end of prep. I asked them wait outside the common room at 7.55 p. m. I also suggested that they take their books back to their study beforehand so that they can go straight there after their punishments.

The prospective father took rather longer than I had hoped he would. He was still with me at five to eight. In fact, we were just passing the common room then. Clarke and Simpson were waiting outside. The father saw them and said he would like to ask them about what they thought about the school and house. Before I could say anything, he had bounded up to them and asked them whether they were happy in middle house. Clarke answered first:

"Oh yes sir, it is the best house in the school. Everyone loves it."

Simpson agreed: "Clarke is quite right sir, we all have great fun here."

The father went on: "and what are you two lads up to now, I thought it was meant to be prep time?"

Oh dear, I thought, this isn't going to look good.

Clarke replied: "we are waiting to see Turner sir."

"And, if it is not too inquisitive of me, why do you want to see him?"

Clarke: "because we need to be caned sir."

Now I had, of course, explained all about discipline to the father, so he knew that we use the cane and he hadn't raised any objection, but some adults are quite happy at the idea of caning in general but not always that keen in actual cases. I was somewhat concerned that he might be a little put out at the idea of these two polite small boys being about to be caned. Fortunately, he didn't bat an eyelid.

"Ah, bad luck. Tell me, do you think it is fair that you are to be caned?"

Simpson replied: "Oh yes sir, we know it's for our own good and we deserve it, although, speaking for myself, I'm not exactly looking forward to it. I mean Turner is well known to be the hardest caner in the school."

"And I suppose I've been responsible for making the agonising wait even longer, I tell you what", he turned to me, "why don't you put these lads out of their misery now. I'll wait outside and then you can take me back to Mr Blakeson when you've finished".

I protested that they could wait another five or ten minutes, but he was absolutely insistent. I think he was actually rather looking forward to listening from outside. Indeed, I could have bet that he would have liked to come in and watch, but I was certainly not going to give him that pleasure. Anyway, I had to give in. I popped into my study to fetch a cane and returned to the waiting group. I took the boys inside while the prospective father waited.

Because I had not had the time, I had not yet moved the furniture to create my usual maximum swinging space. The boys immediately set to helping me with that task. I then said I would beat Clarke first. He took off his jacket, went to exactly the right spot and bent over in precisely the right manner (he had obviously been coached by someone). His upper legs and buttocks were tightly encased in his grey flannel trousers. I could make out the muscles of his thighs. They were slim, but obviously in good shape. There was the slightest roundness at the point where they met the small, but firm, bottom. He was gripping his ankles tightly in order to control the slight shaking that I could see. I took a deep breath. I was just praying that Simpson's assessment was correct and that Clarke was going to take this well. Beating a boy who makes a fuss is a miserable experience. Of course I knew that, whatever happened, I was still going have the pleasure of beating Simpson, who could be absolutely relied upon to take it splendidly, but that wouldn't make up for having a blubbing Clarke on my hands.

I had decided on a two pace run up. I first took aim, by tapping his bottom with the cane, and then took my two large paces back. I saw him shut his eyes tightly. I raised the cane above my shoulder, turned slightly to my right and took two great strides forward, swinging the cane round with my body as I did so. The only sound, other than the swish of cane through the air and the loud retort as it hit Clarke's bottom and whipped round his right thigh, was an audible wince from Simpson behind me. It was typical of the boy that he expressed more concern for his friend than I knew he would for himself when it was his turn. Clarke, made no sound. It is true that he was momentarily unsteady on his feet, but that was inevitable: he was a small boy who had just had massive force applied to his bottom with nothing to lean on. He steadied himself. I took another deep breath. Again I took aim. Again I took two paces back. Again I swung the cane with maximum force as I leapt forwards. The first stroke had left the usual thin line across the centre of his bottom. I was pleased to see that the second line appeared less than a quarter of an inch below the first. Excellent aim, I thought to myself. I gave Clarke about ten seconds before telling him to stand. His eyes were only very slightly watering, and he managed to blink enough to prevent the forming of a single tear. He remembered to thank me before fiercely rubbing both buttocks.

Simpson stepped forward. He had already removed his jacket. He bent over. As I have previously recounted, I had had the undoubted pleasure of seeing him bend over for a beating before, when he had been wearing games shorts of exceptional brevity. On that occasion, a considerable part of his slim round bottom had actually been exposed as the shorts ran up. Recalling that scene made this one even more pleasurable. I could vividly imagine the bottom beneath the tight grey trousers and the slim tanned legs rising up to meet it. I waited for about twenty or thirty seconds partly, I have to admit, because I was enjoying the sight, but also to give Clarke sufficient time to recover to enable him to get the most out of seeing his friend's beating (I knew he would not want Simpson to be hurt, but that he would still get some pleasure from watching).

I then thrashed Simpson, using exactly the same technique and the same amount of force. He took it as well as the most experienced sixteen year old. There was not a shake or a sound from him. As with the last time, when he had had the gym shoe, he was highly complimentary about my technique.

"It didn't surprise me, but that was the most painful punishment of my life. I don't know how you do it, but I can certainly see why you're known as 'Swisher Turner', thank you very much". He, too rubbed his bottom with considerable fury.

I turned to Clarke. The initial pain had clearly warn off. He was only lightly stroking his bottom now. He also had the most endearing smile on his face, revealing wonderful dimples in his cheeks.

"I reckon I can be quite proud of myself for getting through my first ever swishing, from Swisher Turner of all people, without having made too much of a fool of myself."

"You didn't make a fool of yourself in the slightest degree", I replied, "in fact I would go further and say that you two boys have just taken severe thrashings in a way which would have done credit to boys two or three years older. Well done."

As we left the room, I noticed that the waiting father was standing pretty close to the door. He had obviously been listening intently. I was still carrying the cane, which he looked at admiringly. There was quite a glint in his eye as he looked down at the boys' bottoms (which they were both still stroking).

"That sounded pretty professional", he said, I don't suppose you'll be sitting down for a while".

"I think you're right sir", said Clarke, "and neither will we be getting into trouble again in a hurry."

I sent them back to their study where, I have no doubt, trousers and pants were lowered and vivid stripes admired.

Sadly, I missed the demonstration which will obviously have been put on in junior dorm tonight, but I suspect I may just happen to pop into the showers after games tomorrow.

I am just about to go to bed. I had previously intended to put off any between the sheets celebration of this evening's events until after I had seen the results in the showers tomorrow, but writing up today's entry has brought it all back to my mind and I can feel an urgent stirring below. I wonder whether Clarke and Simpson are also enjoying themselves in the time honoured way. I do hope so. Oh dear, I hope I have a spate of ugly boys to beat soon: I think I need a period with less activity at night!


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