I was digging around in the attic and found that Turner was not the only boy to keep a diary that term. Simpson also recorded his thoughts. Here is an excerpt.
It's quite a change moving from being a prefect at your prep to being one of the youngest boys at your public school. No more sending juniors to masters to be swished. It'll be the other way round now, except the prefects can do the swishing themselves! Pity I wasn't allowed to do that at Grey Lodge! I reckon I'd have been quite good at it. The one thing I've noticed so far is that all the prefects seem to be big, fit and strong. Oh my poor bum!
My house is called Middle House. I don't know why, because there aren't any Top or Bottom Houses. Boys stay here till they are about 17 and then, unless they are made prefects here, they go onto Upper Sixth Form Houses.
The really good thing is that juniors are all given studies. There are two boys to each. I am sharing a study with a boy called Clarke. He didn't board at his prep and so he's rather homesick. But he seems good bloke. Apparently he was in his prep's First XI at soccer (he's never played rugby but I expect he'll pick it up). I will have to try to cheer him up.
We've got to go now for an introductory talk from the head of house. He's called Turner. He looks a decent sort, but I'll see what he's like at his talk.
Turner seemed really nice. Although he's only 17 he's as tall as a man and he looks as though he's an excellent sportsman. There was quite a lot of boring stuff about who everyone is and what times things happen at. He also said that we can go and see him whenever we have any problems, which is pretty good for a prefect. Then he got onto the part we all needed to know most: punishments! It doesn't sound as though the masters get much of a look in here. He said that a few masters give the cane for bad behaviour in class or in PT, but most just give detentions. Most discipline is left to prefects. He said that was a good thing because prefects don't go in for telling off as much as masters do. They just get on with the punishment and can be all friendly afterwards. He reckoned that was because the prefects had only just stopped being punished themselves.
Then he went on to tell us exactly what the system is. Apparently it is all new this term. Although all the prefects used to be able to whack with gym shoes, now only he can give whackings. That can't be much fun for the prefects! Anyway, what happens is that when we misbehave we can be given things called demerits. All the prefects can give demerits. They stay in place for 28 days unless you ever have three or more at the same time. Then Turner cancels them by giving you a whacking with a gym shoe or a swishing. I must say that does seem very fair because it gives you a chance to stay out of trouble and avoid punishment, even if you've done something wrong. He gave us a long list of offences and how many demerits you can get for them. I must say there do seem to be a lot of rules. For instance, until you are fifteen, you have to have the middle button of your jacket done up at all times (1 demerit if you don't). Until you are sixteen you are not allowed to put your hands in your trouser pockets (1 demerit if you do). There is a lawn outside which only prefects can walk on. If we walk on it we'll get 1 demerit. Then you can get two demerits for things like fighting, which makes sense, and if you smoke you will obviously get three (and therefore a well earned swishing).
It also seems very fair that you don't have to get the cane, you can sometimes only get the gym shoe, although Turner said that he was intending to whack really hard with the gym shoe (and I expect he can!). Until we are fourteen we can get between 2 and 4 with the cane or between 3 and 6 with the gym shoe. So at least it's not going to be straight into 6 of the best with the cane. If you get the gym shoe you have to change into games shorts with no pants. Our games shorts are so thin it will be like getting it on the bare bum! When you get the cane you just wear ordinary school trousers and pants, not that they will provide much protection!
When we got back to our study I thought I'd try to get Clarke's mind off his homesickness by swapping stories about whackings. That wasn't the best idea because it turns out that his prep didn't use whackings at all. It must have been a very odd place. I wouldn't have thought it would be possible for a boy to get to thirteen without having even had the slipper! It's even worse than that because Clarke's father died in an accident when he was eight and so he hasn't even had a spanking for five years! So it's not surprising that he is quite frightened about getting whacked here. I did my best to explain to him that school whackings are just one of those things that you get used to. I didn't lie to him and say that they didn't hurt, but I explained that they are over quickly and that everyone thinks you are splendid when you show off your bum afterwards. Also, I said, which is true, that he doesn't look a bit like a wimp and shouldn't have any difficulty in putting up with an ordinary swishing. He is about the same size as me. OK, he isn't fat (and nor am I), but he looks like he's got strong muscles and if he was in his First XI he must be very fit. I told him about the slipperings and swishings I had at my prep school and how I hadn't minded at all, and after all my bum is just as small as his. I think that made him a bit happier, but I must go on cheering him up all the time. After a few days I might suggest that he lets me give him some practice whackings so that he starts to get used to them. It could be just smacking his bum with my hand to start with and then perhaps giving him one or two with a slipper. Actually, I think that could be quite good fun and it ought to be helpful to him as well. I suppose it would only be fair to let him whack my bum as well, but I wouldn't mind that at all. I must do a recce and see if there is somewhere we could do it without being seen.
Since I last wrote in this diary Clarke has had his one to one pep talk with Turner. It sounds as though it went very well and he is cheering up all the time, even if he does still get quite sad at night.
We played rugby today. It was great fun until some idiot boy kicked me when I was down (and nowhere near the ball). Without thinking, I just kicked out myself. The prefect who was reffing only saw that bit and immediately gave me two demerits. I obviously couldn't sneak (although you would have thought that the other boy would have owned up), so I am now only one demerit away from a painful meeting with Turner! Oh well, can't be helped.
I had my session with Turner today. He really is a very decent chap. He asked me to keep an eye on Clarke and try to settle him in (without letting on to other boys that I was doing it). I said I'd already started and that I was sure Clarke would be OK in the end. Then he was very nice about my demerits and he hoped I wasn't too worried. I said I wasn't. After all, I'm bound to get a whacking sooner or later, so why not find out what it's going to be like early on. He wanted to know whether I'd had the cane before and when I said I had he seemed pleased. I did say that I reckoned he would be much harder and he said I must remember to tell him after my first from him. That is such a good attitude to have. You can't imagine any master being prepared to have a conversation about how hard his swishing had been just after giving it.
One of the lower sixth formers, a boy called Langton, was swished last night for smoking. Turner gave him six. Apparently he's told everyone that it was the hardest he's ever had and one or two boys with two demerits (me included!) are beginning to look rather worried!
Having just written that, I have to report that I have been stupid enough to get a third demerit for having my hands in my pockets after breakfast. I have received the summons to call on Turner at break. The trouble is that fouling at rugby is a pretty serious offence. I will be lucky to get away with six with the gym shoe, but I daresay I'll get the cane.
Turner is just the best! The first thing you notice is that seeing him when you are in trouble is nothing like being sent to a master. He doesn't get all serious and cross, he just treats you like a friend who happens to be in trouble. He asked me whether I wanted to complain about my demerits for fouling. Obviously I said I didn't. Then he said he'd seen the whole thing and had thought it was another boy's fault. I said I wasn't going to get anyone else into trouble. He said he thought he could be lenient and suggest only four with the gym shoe! I can't believe my luck, although I suppose Mr Blakeson might make him give me more.
Just seen Turner again. I am still only going to get four with the gym shoe.
A prefect called Watson came to collect me from prep for my whacking. He was really nice too. He asked all about the whackings I'd had before and when I said I'd had the cane he said that I ought not to worry too much, although he did think that Turner was probably going to be quite a demon with the gym shoe. I think he was quite impressed that a new boy was getting whacked so soon. First we had to go to the changing rooms for me to change into my games shorts. He was funny about my bum. He said it looked like an excellent target with just the right firmness to produce a jolly good thwack as the gym shoe connected. We joked about what colour it would be in ten minutes! All right, it's never any fun getting a serious whacking, but it is so much better if you're not having to put up with a cross master who thinks he's got to be telling you all the time as well as walloping your bum.
My shorts are just that! Not only are they quite tight, but they hardly cover my bum at all. Watson got me to try bending over and he said that the lower half of my bum was bare. He said he bet my dad had bought them. I asked him how he knew and he said that dads know that PT masters often whack boys when they're in their games shorts and my dad would have wanted to make sure that I didn't get too much protection. I bet hes right!!!
We got to the prefects common room at exactly 7.00 p. m. Turner was waiting with an enormous looking gym shoe. He had cleared a large space, presumably to make sure he could take a really good swing. He told me where to bend over. I had already found out about how they like you to bend over here. You put your feet slightly apart and you clutch your ankles, making sure you don't bend your knees. I was determined to keep my eyes open so I could watch Turner's technique through my legs.
It was pretty scary I can tell you. He actually took a run up and the shoe was right behind his shoulder at the start. It was funny because I felt a sort of whoosh of cool air just before the first stroke, then, suddenly, an enormous crash as it landed square on the middle of my bum. I can tell you, it nearly knocked me over. No master has ever hit me as hard. Talk about agony.
Then he walked slowly back and I could see him just looking at my bum. I know that the experts always wait between strokes to increase the pain and Turner is definitely an expert! Then the run up and, thwack, number two was just as hard. Somehow I managed to stay still. By now my bum was more painful than after the end of any of my other whackings, and I was only half way through.
He was looking at me again. Bearing in mind the size of my shorts, he must have been able to see the marks on the bare part of my bum. I expect they colour up as you are watching, which must have been quite nice for him. The third was bang on top of the other two. I don't know how I managed not to scream, but of course I didn't.
Waiting for the fourth was really dreadful. All I wanted to do was jump six feet in the air clutching my bum with both hands and shouting every swear word I knew, but I had to stay there absolutely still, just waiting for the crack of shoe on bum yet again. At last it came and wow was it bad. Boys often say that whackings make their bums feel as though they are on fire and mine has been hot before, but this was as though I had sat straight in a furnace. He made me stay bending for what seemed ages, but at last I got up. I don't mind admitting that I grabbed my bum with both hands even before thanking him.
Once the worst was over, I told Turner that the whacking had been the hardest I had ever had, and certainly harder than three with the cane from my prep school headmaster. I think he was pleased about that and he asked me to tell the other boys, but not to lay it on too thick with Clarke.
When I got changed again I looked at my bum and it was truly amazing the colour it was. I could see the beginnings of real bruises. I reckoned it would be perfect by the time we changed for bed.
During quiet time before bed (when we have to be in our studies) I got my first opportunity to tell anyone what it had been like. The trouble was, of course, that it was Clarke and I didn't want to frighten him. I told him it had hurt, but that it hadn't been too bad and now my bum just had a comfortable warm feeling. Obviously he wanted to see and since the marks were clearly going to be there for quite a time there was no way I was going to avoid letting him see them soon. So I undid my trousers and pulled them and my pants down. He gasped in astonishment, but I assured him I felt absolutely fine. He said I must be incredibly brave and I told him that I knew he would be as well. As we got talking about it, I let slip that he might want me to give him a few trial whacks with my hand to sort of warm him up for the real thing. I didn't really think he'd let me, but amazingly he said that that would be great. I had found a secret place in the woods earlier and I told him we might go there tomorrow. He said we certainly would. Then I said his bum would have to be bare because otherwise I wouldn't be able to make it hurt at all. He said he knew that, and anyway, when he used to be spanked by his dad he always had his shorts and pants down.
The dorm last night was fabulous. They all looked at my bum and they were all very very impressed. Turner came in while I was bending with my back to the door and saw the show, but he didn't mind a bit. I think he is my hero!
By the time I got into bed I was already pretty excited, but I held off for as long as I could before I eventually started. I've heard other boys doing it, so I didn't think anyone would be shocked, but I didn't want rude remarks flying round the dorm while I was thinking of all that had happened yesterday - and of what I was going to be doing to Clarke later! I kept it going for an amazing time, but eventually I couldn't keep it back. The end was just out of this world.
After lunch, Clarke and I went to my place in the woods. We found an old tree trunk on the ground and decided that he should bend over that. We put our jackets on it to make it more comfortable and then he took his trousers and pants down. His leg and bum muscles look really strong and he hasn't got any flab on him. He lay over the trunk with his bum at the top. I knelt down on the ground beside him and I was just at the right height to be able to smack straight down on top of his bum. If Watson was right in saying mine was a perfect target, I don't know what he'd say about Clarke's. It is as round and firm as a peach and, before I got to work, only slightly pink. I asked him how many he wanted and he suggested six, which was probably about right. First I lay my hand on his bum to get a feel of it. Then I lifted it up in the air. He tensed his bum in readiness. I waited a second or two and then brought my hand down as hard as I could. The smack was actually quite loud, but no one was around to here. My own hand felt pretty sore. I think his bum must have been a lot worse. The mark the first one left was great. You could actually see the shape of a hand in a slightly deeper pink. Sure enough, the colour got even deeper as I watched.
He said "crikey Simpson, you're going to be quite a dad one day, that really hurt". I asked him if he wanted me to stop and he said no, I should try and do it even harder. So I did. The next one was slightly lower than the first (I thought it would be fun to try to leave several hand shapes on his bum). After it landed, I let my hand rest on his bum and could feel that it was already a lot warmer than it had been at the beginning. Anyway, I gave him the full six with all my might and the end result was terrific. His bum was bright scarlet and very warm indeed. He rubbed it a bit before getting up and then twisted round to look. "Not bad", he said, "but we're going to have to have a few more sessions before I'm ready for Turner".
"Youll be fine", I said, "I bet you could take the cane from him without any problem, let alone the gym shoe".
We made a plan to have a session once a week. We agreed that we would start using a slipper next time, but I will just give him three to begin with and we will work up from there. With my training I think he is going to have no problems at all when it comes to the real thing.
It would be nice if he gets the sort of pleasure I do from thinking about whackings, but I'm not going to make him think I'm odd by asking.