Captain Percival Evans, RN. retired, had found himself new employment. It was the year 1820 and demand for naval captains had seriously diminished with the peace which followed the complete defeat of Napoleon. Like so many of his contemporaries he had been put out to grass on half pay. Unlike some of the others he did not have the advantage of private means and had to find a way to supplement his income. He had come to an arrangement with several merchant shipping companies and had established a school to train both officers and seamen for them. At his college, he provided a good training in the levels of seamanship that each would require, but also gave them a serious grounding in the discipline which would be needed at sea.
His officer cadets were paid for by their parents. His boy seamen came from the workhouses. He received his pay for them from the companies who took them on and he worked them hard in keeping the establishment clean and running.
He controlled the discipline and much of it he delivered personally. Each evening, defaulters stood before him. He chose the evening so that it did not interfere with their work.
Today there was only one. A boy seaman, thirteen years old. He had been rude to an instructor.
The case was outlined to him. Then he turned to the trembling boy. "Have you anything to say?"
The boy knew what arguing would do, and replied, "No, sir."
Captain Evans looked at the boy's record. "This is the second time that you have been reported for this. Six strokes were not enough to teach you. Twelve strokes with the cane. State One."
The state referred to the boy's dress. The lower the number, the less he wore. State One meant that he would have no protection. Two allowed him some privacy. Light weight trousers were permitted. State Three meant wearing the normal uniform trousers. Captain Evans usually opted for State One when he could. He enjoyed the sight of boys' bottoms in their full glory almost as much as he enjoyed cracking a cane across them and there was the added bonus that he could actually see what he had achieved with the cane..
The offender was marched out. Half an hour later Captain Evans went through to the room used for such ceremonies. There were a variety of items for securing offenders for their punishment, but John Brown had only experienced one. A long, narrow table. Its end cut into the top of his legs when he was bent over it. Captain Evans liked to use this. It seemed so much more satisfactory to have boys held down by hand and he could always award more if they thrashed their legs. John Brown knew that this would happen. He had put his legs inside a rung which joined the two legs of the table. He knew that this stuck his bottom out even further and made it a better target, but he hoped that it would help him to keep his legs still.
Captain Evans approached him. John Brown felt the man's hands on his backside. Captain Evans always liked the feel of a boy's bottom, and there was certainly nothing to prevent him with a workhouse boy, for whom he was so generously providing training! Then he moved across to the rack. Carefully he selected his weapon. He believed that offenders should notice what he did. All his canes were four feet long. He crossed to the boy again. He said nothing. He did not need to. There was nothing that John Brown could do now. He was lying on the table, with his legs behind the rung. On either side of him stood a member of the staff. There were strong men. Each held an arm, twisted into the centre of his back and held so that he could not move and each, with his other hand, rested his weight on the boy. All he could do was wait.
Captain Evans liked the element of surprise. The boy knew it was going to happen soon but did not know exactly when. Even if John Brown had dared to do it, there was no point in trying to look round. One of the men holding him blocked the view. Captain Evans took aim by holding the cane about an inch from his target. Then he raised his arm, taking it as far back as he could. Next, he twisted his whole body round so that it was like a spring. Suddenly the spring was released and with a concerted movement every part of him combined to crash that cane into the unprotected seat.
There was an explosion of pain in John Brown's rump. The aftershock surged around his body, until every fibre had reacted to it. Manfully he bit hard on to the block of wood which had been put into his mouth to assist him in avoiding screaming. Then he waited. Captain Evans liked to savour every moment and felt it right that his victims should do the same. Eventually, the second devastating stroke arrived. John Brown half hoped that he would pass out, even though he knew it would not help. If he did not respond, Captain Evans would be told by the men holding him. The good Captain would wait until he recovered and then continue his work. If someone was to be punished, it was essential that they realised it. Nothing was to be gained from beating an unconscious boy.
The third stroke followed. Four, five, six. This was as far as John Brown had ever gone before and then he felt that he had been taken to the gates of Hell. But it stopped. Instead he sensed those hands feeling him again. He heard a voice say, "He's coming along quite nicely." Then the hands left him. John Brown could imagine the cane being raised. He thought of it crashing into him. But he just waited. Then it happened. By now he was convinced that he was on fire. But the slow agony continued. He heard one of the instructors counting each stroke after it landed. Seven, eight, nine, ten. Only two to go now. He had nearly broken his teeth on the block of wood and he could not prevent the tears in his eyes. He waited. Then he felt it. How he felt it. It was the worst yet, for the previous strokes combined with the delay that Captain Evans had built into his treatment had made his bottom appallingly sensitive. He heard the instructor say, "Eleven". Only one to go. Then it crashed into him. He felt it was so hard that it drove him into the table and he half expected his eyes to be forced out by it. He heard the blessed words. "Twelve. Punishment complete, sir."
His captors released their grip but John Brown did not move. He knew that he was not allowed to until told. Again those rough hands felt him. Then he was ordered to stand. Painfully, he extracted his legs from behind the table rung. They were bruised at the back where the shock of the blows had made him drive them into the table. Captain Evans said, "Remove your shirt, boy. I want to see that you have been properly treated. Obediently and instantly John Brown did so. To delay would have him over that table again. He stood naked in front of Captain Evans who came forward and felt his bottom again. Then he felt those hands feeling his body and moving to his genitals. He stood there. He could do nothing else. He felt the Captain press his body against him. He felt the throbbing organ erect inside the Captain's trousers and he was afraid. He had every right to be afraid although, at this stage, he did not know why.
Then he heard the Captain say, "I think he's ready for another lesson in life at sea." One of the Instructors grinned and said, "Shall I take him to your private room, sir?"
"Yes, please."
As they went, the instructor said, "Don't worry. You'll get used to it. It happens all the time at sea. There aren't any women."
He was taken to the room off the punishment hall and was told to remove his remaining garments. He stood there naked. Captain Evans entered and closed the door. Quickly he stripped and said, "Kneel on the floor, boy. On all fours."
Soon, John Brown felt Captain Evans feeling his bottom again. Then he felt him adjust his position to get a better access before he took him. Then it happened. He felt the Captain's prick rammed into his anus. It was agony but he had to stay and accept it. Behind him, the Captain became more and more excited. Then he felt that sensation which could only be Captain Evans firing his load into him. A couple of minutes later, the Captain was dressing. Then he opened the door and called. An Instructor came forward. "Take him away."
Boy Seaman John Brown was led away. Outside the Hall he dressed. The instructor said, "A word of advice, lad. If you think it's going to happen, grease your arsehole. It'll be a lot easier for you."
Boy Seaman John Brown would soon be at sea. Other men would use him before he, in his turn, used later boys.
A few days later Captain Percival Evans, RN, retired, was standing at his desk again. Requests and defaulters were about to start. First to be marched up was Cadet Gordon Wren. Request to be promoted to the rank of Senior Cadet. His record was read. It was almost irrelevant. Cadets were admitted in groups of three. They automatically became Senior Cadets for their last few months, when they had some responsibilities for a consignment of boys and a number of cadets. In fact his record was good and Captain Evans said to his Chief Instructor, "I see that he has never had to be punished." The Chief Instructor knew what this meant. No-one left Captain Evans' Academy without at least tasting his cane. Time was running short. He had to be picked up.
Two days later, Senior Cadet Wren was in front of Captain Evans again. This time he was a defaulter. One boy seaman and one Cadet under his command had been late. Senior Cadet Wren had never been in front of the Captain before as a defaulter but he accepted his fate. He knew that there was no point in arguing. The Captain said, "Have you anything to say?"
"Only that I regret it, sir."
"You will regret it even further. Nine strokes. State Two."
Senior Cadet Wren was marched out. Quickly he changed his uniform. State Two meant that he was to wear lightweight trousers. There were also differences in the punishment for Cadets who were paid for by their parents. They were destined to be officers. They were expected to accept all except the most severe punishments without assistance.
Soon he was marched into the Punishment Hall. He was halted in front of a la rge block and left standing to attention in front of it until Captain Evans appeared. At last he did. The Chief Instructor bellowed, "Defaulter, prepare yourself for punishment."
Senior Cadet Wren knew what he had to do. He bent forward over the block, gripping its legs. His legs did not reach the ground and he put them inside the other legs. This widened the area of buttocks which each stroke would hit but prevented his legs from moving and risking further punishment. His bottom was high in the air, presenting an ideal target.
Captain Evans viewed him. The Chief Instructor reported, "Senior Cadet Wren ready for punishment, sir. Nine strokes."
Captain Evans did not handle his bottom. Indeed this was part of why he had not ordered State One. He rarely had Cadets in that condition for he found a naked bottom almost irresistible. He carefully selected his cane. He crossed to the Cadet and looked.
It was indeed a shapely bottom, but there was always the risk that cadets' parents might object if he investigated it too carefully. Even so, it would be a delight to cane and no parent would object to a justified thrashing. He took his aim and then coiled himself like a powerful spring, as he always did. Years at sea had made him a healthy and powerful man. Then he struck. Senior Cadet Wren had never felt anything like it before. He had been caned in a previous school but this was something of another order. He bit hard on the wooden block provided by the Chief Instructor, forced his legs against the legs of the block. He tightened his grip and forced himself to stay. Then he heard the Chief Instructor say "One".
"Christ!" he thought, "I'll never manage another eight."
Captain Evans gave him time to recover. This was not to allow him a greater possibility of hanging on. Captain Evans knew that if it were done too quickly, the strokes ran into each other and the offender did not have a full opportunity to savour his skilled attention. Then the second one crashed into him. He heard the cry "Two". Again his body filled with the pain. Could he possibly hang out? He doubted it and yet knew that he had to.
"Three". It seemed even worse. Still it continued, "Four", "Five", "Six". At last it occurred to him that he might do it. Three dreadful strokes to go, but he had already endured twice as many. But his bottom was bruised and tender. Each stroke made it worse and hurt more than the earlier ones. "Seven." He forced himself to stay. "Eight." He did not move. He knew that there was only one more to go and that he should make it. He must not relax now. He was in place for the last and if he remained still, his torture would be over. He strained every nerve. He forced his legs hard against the legs of the block which helped to hold them in place. He redoubled his grip as he held himself down. Captain Evans was taking a long time before his last blow. Then he struck. Senior Cadet Wren felt his entire body explode with its power. He forced himself into inactivity and he heard the words, "Nine. Punishment complete, sir."
Almost immediately he heard the order barked. "Defaulter."
That was the preparatory warning to "Shun." Still weak and trembling he got to his feet. As the final order was barked, he leapt to attention and was marched out. There was no rest. Immediately he was expected to change, with no time to rub his flaming bottom. Then he was marched away.
Unexpectedly, he was stopped. The Chief Instructor, who had accompanied him, was really a kindly man. "You had that because you failed to stamp on minor lapses. If it happens again, it will be worse. You've been given a cane and told when it can be used. Minor offences only. Major offences must be reported to me. I will transmit them to the Captain if I can't deal with them. If you fail to act, you will receive their punishment. It is vital. Everybody's life in a ship at sea depends on every order being obeyed promptly and without question. You will soon be at sea and you must get used to being obeyed.
Senior Cadet Wren had learned his lesson. That evening, he made his mark. He went into the quarters of the boy seamen. To be more accurate, he stood outside and bellowed, "Boy Seaman Green!"
Boy Seaman Green came walking out. His complacent look changed when he saw the cane in the cadet's hand. It was only three foot six inches and was lighter than the one Captain Evans used, but Boy Seaman Green had been preparing to retire to his hammock and was only wearing his shirt.
Senior Cadet Wren said, "You were late this morning and that made us all late. Then I call you and you come strolling out instead of running." Around the square were several canons. Senior Cadet Wren pointed to one and Boy Seaman Green knew what was required. He placed himself over the breech and wrapped his arms round the barrel. Then he waited. Senior Cadet Wren raised his shirt. Boy Seaman Green had been behaving well recently, his bottom was unmarked. Seeing it was a bonus for Senior Cadet Wren. He was allowed to cane a boy in this state if he presented himself but could not order him to remove his trousers.
This was a moment of truth for both of them. It was the first time Senior Cadet Wren had caned anyone and he had to make his mark. Boy Seaman Green knew that there were many eyes on him and he was determined to take it.
Senior Cadet Wren took aim and then the cane crashed into its target. He knew that he could not be as effective as Captain Evans. He had neither the experience nor the weapon. But there was a satisfactory response from Boy Seaman Green. He did not have the aid of the block of wood and as a result had nothing to bite on. He could not prevent a cry being forced through his lips. Senior Cadet Wren continued. A second stroke was followed by the third. Boy Seaman Green clung to the gun. Still it continued. Senior Cadet Wren thought of the state of his own backside and continued. That was not going to happen again. The fourth stroke crashed into his victim and the boy squealed. A fifth and sixth followed. It was a tear stained face that rose from the gun. Boy Seaman Green now knew, even if he had not before, what it means to kiss the gunner's daughter. The spectators also realised that Senior Cadet Wren was a figure to be respected.
But Senior Cadet Wren had a further task. He returned to the Cadets' quarters. He sought out Cadet Hoyle. There was less formality there. He said to Cadet Hoyle, "Do you know where I have been?"
"No."
Senior Cadet Wren dropped his trousers and said, "I've had an unfortunate visit to the Captain. This is the result. The cause is you being late this morning. You are in my group. I'm now going to remind you of what happens to anyone who is late from now on. Go to the Gun Room."
The Gun Room had no guns in it. It was simply the traditional name taken from the Royal Navy. It was the central room of the Cadet quarters. Cadet Hoyle said, "I can't go dressed like this."
He did have a point. Like Boy Seaman Green, he was in his night shirt. Senior Cadet Wren simply said, "If you choose to change early, that's your misfortune. And say 'Sir' when you speak to a Senior Cadet."
Cadet Hoyle followed him to the Gun Room. A number of others trailed after anxious not to miss what was to happen.
In the Gun Room Senior Cadet Wren faced Cadet Hoyle. "You were late this morning and made the remainder of us late. You are improperly dressed. You are not due to turn in for another half hour. You failed to address me as 'Sir'. I will overlook other offences. I therefore intend to cane you. I am allowed to give you six strokes. We have three offences. I therefore intend to give you six strokes, then fifteen minutes to recover, followed by a further six strokes. I will be lenient."
"Like _f_u_c_k_ing hell. You can get stuffed."
"I will report this incident to the Chief Instructor." He walked out.
The following evening, Senior Cadet Wren was in front of Captain Evans again. This time he was there as a witness. Cadet Hoyle was the defaulter and was preparing to defend himself. The Chief Instructor said, "Senior Cadet Wren has laid a complaint, sir."
"Bring him forward."
Senior Cadet Wren stood in front of the desk and saluted. He had been here only a day earlier but that had resulted in his being caned. Cadet Hoyle's behaviour, or his own failure to act on it had been a principal cause of that caning. Captain Evans said, "Give me the story."
Senior Cadet Wren marshalled his thoughts again and said, "Yesterday morning our group was late, sir. A principal reason for that was that Cadet Hoyle was late and that delayed everyone else. I saw him last night to give him a reminder of the results of being late. I ordered him to the Gun Room. He protested that he was inappropriately dressed. He was in his night shirt and therefore improperly dressed. I felt that this was his own fault as he had chosen to change early. I therefore ordered him to report immediately. When we were there, sir, I informed him that I was dissatisfied with his behaviour. He had been late; he had failed to address me as 'sir'; he was improperly dressed. I reminded him that there were other offences I could take into account. He had been generally slack. However, I said that I would overlook the others in the hope that the punishment I gave him would encourage him to buck up, sir. I reminded him that I was only allowed to give him six strokes at a time, but we had three offences. I therefore warned him that I would give him six strokes, allow him fifteen minutes to recover and then a further six. His response was, 'Like _f_u_c_k_ing hell. You can get stuffed.' In view of that reply, I informed him that I would report him to the Chief Instructor."
Captain Evans looked at Cadet Hoyle and said, "Have you anything to say?"
Cadet Hoyle replied, "Yes sir. Senior Cadet Wren was only caning me because he had been caned by you, sir. He was taking advantage of the fact that I had changed early and he was being unfair."
Captain Evans turned to Senior Cadet Wren and said, "Is that true?"
"No, sir," Senior Cadet Wren replied, "I had told him that I had been caned. I informed him that the reason was my failure to discipline members of my group and that he was a prime example of that. I therefore intended to correct my errors of the past. I had already done so with a Boy Seaman under my command, who accepted his punishment without question."
Captain Evans turned to Cadet Hoyle and said, "That Boy Seaman showed more sense that you. I find you guilty. Eighteen strokes. State One. I want all Cadets assembled to witness this." The publicity was not only to embarrass Cadet Hoyle. It was also to increase Captain Evans's ability to resist the temptation too go to far with a naked bottom. It belonged to a cadet and so was out of bounds.
It took ten minutes for the Cadets to assemble in the Punishment Hall. They stood at ease and waited. Cadet Hoyle was marched in. The Chief Instructor outlined his offences and turned to Cadet Hoyle. "Prepare yourself for punishment."
Cadet Hoyle removed his trousers and went to the block Senior Cadet Wren had used the day before. He knew that he was expected to accept his punishment like a gentleman. He was a Cadet and not a Boy Seaman. He bent over the block and put his legs in place, to try to keep them still. He reached forward and grasped the other legs. Then he waited. For a long time he waited, his mind full of what was to come. Eventually, he heard the Chief Instructor call the other Cadets to attention and report, "Cadets assembled to witness punishment, sir."
Captain Evans said, "Thank you. Stand them at ease, please."
Now Cadet Hoyle knew that it was close. He wished it were over but nothing seemed to happen. He did not dare to look round. Had he done so, he would have seen Captain Evans holding his cane and flexing it. He would also have seen the good Captain admiring his bottom. Then he would have seen him raise the cane and flex his whole body as he had so carefully trained himself to do. Then, finally he would have seen the terrific tension released in one co-ordinated movement. What he did know was that he felt a cannon had been shot into his backside. He bit hard on the block of wood between his teeth. His legs were bruised as they hit against the legs of the block and he almost loosed his grip. The watching cadets saw the cane land. Tense though Cadet Hoyle's bottom was, they saw the cane almost bury itself in it and then emerge, immediately producing a red line which rapidly filled and darkened in colour.
Captain Evans continued in his reforming work. The second stroke followed and the third. By now Cadet Hoyle was wondering how long he could last. As the fourth made contact his grip almost went. He was convinced that the cane was red hot and that his backside was on fire. He waited and the fifth stroke bit deeply into him. He spat out the block of wood as he screamed. He loosed his grip and attempted to rise. Then he sought to return but it was too late. Captain Evans snapped, "Stand him up."
The Chief Instructor barked, "Defaulter". Cadet Hoyle knew what was to come but was late in standing and the order to come to attention followed before he was on his feet. He was rewarded by a crack across his legs from the Chief Instructor's cane and got into position.
Captain Evans said, "You snivelling little coward. We'll see if a Boy Seaman can do better than you." He turned to the Chief Instructor and said, "Make the arrangements. I'll deal with him here."
Five minutes later the Chief Instructor had been out, had explained to Boy Seaman Parker what he was to do and marched the boy in. He arrived already with his trousers off, lay over the block and tremblingly waited. Captain Evans started his labours again. The witnessing cadets saw that he was just as powerful when working with a seaman. They saw the struggles of Boy Seaman Parker to remain in place and admired his guts. At last they heard the Chief Instructor say, "Nine. Punishment complete, sir." Captain Evans stood back and said to the boy, "You did well. Much better than a pathetic cadet. You may now witness his punishment." He turned to the Chief Instructor and said, "I'll treat him as a boy seaman."
Cadet Hoyle was marched across to the table. He hooked his legs into place and soon found himself held firmly down. To his horror, when the caning started he heard the Chief Instructor start with, "One." All his previous suffering had been in vain! His colleagues watched the cane crash into him. When he reached eighteen, the Chief Instructor said, "Eighteen. Sentence complete sir."
Captain Evans said to the whimpering cadet, "You had a mere five. I did not expect you to manage the full sentence but a mere five. That is why I started again. I will now add to that five to encourage you to develop some will power." Indeed, he did start again. To that five he added a further seven. Then he turned to the Chief Instructor and said, "Carry on."
Senior Cadet Wren was fallen out and ordered to remain. Boy Seaman Parker was marched to Captain Evans' private room. The cadets were dismissed. They did not know that Captain Evans was intending to relieve his feelings in the more intimate parts of Parker's bottom.
By now, Cadet Hoyle was standing and easing his trousers over his raging backside. But his suffering were not yet over. The two cadets were marched to another room. The Chief Instructor accompanied them. He ordered them both to strip and said, "You will now have another lesson in what can happen at sea. Senior Cadet Wren is clearly ready for it." He indicated the aroused state of the Senior Cadet. Before long, Cadet Hoyle's anus had been lubricated by the grease so thoughtfully provided by the Chief Instructor and Senior Cadet Wren entered him as he knelt on the floor. The Chief Instructor remained, to ensure that the Senior Cadet did his duty.
Senior Cadet Wren would have no more problems with recalcitrant cadets.
Captain Evans had received a request from a shipping line for some men. This was a special order from an important customer. His people searched and collected several who were prepared for anything rather than prison or worse for being vagrants.
Now, one of these men stood before him. After the case had been heard, Captain Evans said, "I am satisfied that you have struck an instructor. At sea, to strike an officer could have you hanging from the yard arm. I cannot do that and I will be merciful. Fifteen lashes."
Next morning there was a special parade. All cadets and boy seamen were assembled together with the men who were being trained. The Chief Instructor simply told them that they would witness punishment and that they should, remember that this was one of the normal means of dealing with defaulters at sea, so they should be warned.
He then ordered, "Bring on the defaulter."
Escorted by two instructors, Ordinary Seaman Good was brought in. He stood at attention and his offence and sentence were read out.
The Chief Instructor barked, "Prepare him for punishment." Immediately, his shirt was removed and he was taken to a grating. He was secured by his wrists, arms in the air, and stretching upwards.
Five minutes later, Captain Evans appeared. The Chief Instructor crossed to him, saluted and said, "Hands present to witness punishment sir and all preparations made."
"Let the punishment commence."
The Chief Bosun's Mate stepped forward. In his hand he had the cat of nine tails. It was a length of rope terminating in nine cords. Towards the end of each cord were three hard knots. He was a powerful man and had practised his work. He stood away from the offender and swung the lash to remind himself of its feel. Then he brought it across with enormous power across his victim's shoulders. There were several gasps from the assembled parade, most of whom had never witnessed a flogging before. The Chief Instructor snapped, "Silence!" All sound was smothered. They heard the shout "One!" and saw ugly weals appear across the man's shoulders. It went on. By the third, his back was bleeding, but that did not stop it. The parade saw him struggling to escape, but there was no way out. They saw him biting on his block of wood, and watched his whole body writhing. But it went on. "Four", "Five", "Six". On went the cries of the count. At ten, Senior Cadet Wren heard a bump behind him. Cadet Hall had fainted. Two moved to assist but the Senior Cadet snapped. "Leave him!" Two strokes later a boy seaman went down as well. His companions did nothing. They had heard Senior Cadet Wren's instruction. Finally, as the count reached fifteen, it was over. They watched as the man's bleeding back was cleaned. A bucket of cold water was thrown at him. Briefly, before more blood spread in the water, they saw the cuts and weals the lash had produced. He was released and almost fell to the ground.
The offender was led to a table and made to lie across it. The parade watched as coarse salt was poured on his back and rubbed in. It was the best antiseptic available. As it stung, the man shrieked. Then he was led away.
As well as the two in Senior Cadet Wren's group, several others had fainted. The Chief Instructor dismissed the parade except for Senior Cadets. The faint hearted had all recovered and were taken with the remainder. Senior Cadets were instructed to help them to cope with witnessing a little discomfort. Other instructions were given which they all appreciated.
That evening, Senior Cadet Wren assembled his boy seamen. "One of you disgraced us this morning. You will all witness his punishment. Boy Seaman Marriott step forward."
He did so. Soon he was in place, bare backside ready for treatment. Senior Cadet Wren was beginning to feel like Captain Evans. He was enjoying the sight of boys' bottoms and he was pleased that he had been given special authority to require the offender's trousers to be removed. His cane crashed into it. Twelve times in all he struck. He had been told to do so. It was his painful duty!
As the boy rose he ordered, "Report to my cabin."
The parade was dismissed. Ten minutes later, Boy Seaman Marriott stood inside Senior Cadet Wren's cabin. He was new and did not know what to expect. But he had already learned to obey orders. Senior Cadet Wren said, "You have to learn to see pain without fainting. You'd be no use in a ship if you fainted in an emergency. There's something else you have to learn. Ships have no women. While you are a boy, the men will want you. When you are a man, you will want boys. I'm going to show you how. Strip yourself."
He did so, still not realising what was to come. Senior Cadet Wren undressed as well, but he knew what he was about to do. "Kneel on the floor."
The boy placed himself as instructed.
"Knees a bit further apart. Let your arse feel free"
He did so. Senior Cadet Wren stroked the bruises he himself had produced so recently. Then he inserted his finger into the boy's arse, to apply some grease. The boy looked round in horror. Senior Cadet Wren said, "This makes it easier. When you are to be used in future, I advise you to do it yourself, or it will hurt."
He climbed onto him and Boy Seaman Marriott felt his prick force itself into his backside. He felt the increasing excitement of the Senior Cadet and then peace. He had come.
Soon, he was dressing.
Next day, he spoke to Cadet Hall. "I have been instructed to cane you. You are not yet able to face pain. You will receive twelve strokes, State One."
Cadet Hall said, "I knew it would be coming, sir. Does it have to be in public?"
Senior Cadet Wren replied, "You know what is involved if it is private, don't you?"
"Yes, sir. I'm ready for that."
Senior Cadet Wren booked the room used for private punishments that evening. At the appointed hour Cadet Hall reported to him there. Senior Cadet Wren said, "Prepare yourself for punishment."
Cadet Hall knew what to do. They all did. The Chief Instructor had told them. He stripped completely, crossed to the block, put himself in place and waited. Senior Cadet Wren came across to him. He felt the bottom before him, stroking and caressing it. Then he collected his cane and took aim. The weapon crashed into his victim, leaving its telltale mark. And again. He struggled and squirmed but his pride demanded that he accept his punishment with dignity. Twelve times in all it fell. He lay there, wondering whether there would be more to come. Then he felt the Senior Cadet's hands examining his work. He relaxed and was told to rise.
Senior Cadet Wren said "I take it you are ready?"
"Yes, sir."
"Get back over the block. I'll have you there."
Cadet Hall returned to the block from which he had so recently risen. Senior Cadet Wren undressed. This was his week. Two boys in two days! He lay on Cadet Hall and entered. He felt that the cadet had allowed him to do so willingly. Indeed, he had. Cadet Hall had learned to enjoy it. He felt the proud prick of the Senior Cadet enter his body and delighted as it forced its way in. He felt the excitement of its operator and finally the spurt and relief as he shot his load into his body. Then it was over. Senior Cadet Wren did not offer his body to the cadet, but Cadet Hall knew that his turn would come later.
However, we turn to another time. Before Senior Cadet Wren had finished with Captain Evans' Academy, disaster struck. In fact it struck for all three Senior Cadets. They had walked into it. They had been taken out by three instructors a couple of nights before their time had finished. They had returned drunk.
Now, due to leave the following morning, they stood before Captain Evans again. There was no arguing. Drunkenness was serious. Drunkenness amongst officer cadets was a bad example. They stood together and heard Captain Evans' sentence.
"Eighteen strokes, State One." Eighteen strokes each on their bare backsides. They were marched out.
The three of them stood outside the Punishment Hall. One went in and the other two listened. Eighteen times the cane fell. Silently, they counted each explosion. A few minutes later, a shaken Senior Cadet came out. The second one was summoned. There was a pause while he undressed and then they heard the first crack. The first victim said quietly, "He's on form today."
Senior Cadet Wren replied, "He's always on form."
They counted again. But at fifteen, the regular sound stopped. Senior Cadet Wren said, "He's broken. I hope I don't."
It started again and they counted. He had been three short of his target. Nine more strokes fell. In due time the second came out, trembling and with tears in his eyes.
It was the turn of Senior Cadet Wren. He marched in. On instruction he removed his trousers, folded them neatly, placed himself in position and waited. He clamped his jaw on the wooden block and his backside felt as though a thousand red-hot wires had cut into it. Grimly he reminded himself that the shock of the first made it worse. Then the second fell. It was more painful, but he had been reminded of what to expect and managed better. He heard the Chief Instructor's counting. "Three."
For Senior Cadet Wren the pain was excruciating but he was determined to face it out.
"Four."
Again, the pain surged through his body and he had to accept it.
"Five." On it went. Senior Cadet Wren struggled to hold himself in place.
"Six." At least he had got through a third of it, but there were twice as many to go.
"Seven."
"Eight."
"Nine." He was half way through.
He did not know why, but Captain Evans delayed for a time and he managed to compose himself. In fact, Captain Evans liked Senior Cadet Wren's bottom and had paused to admire it and his own work. Senior Cadet Wren told himself that he had already had as much as was to come. If he could take it once, he could do it again. Then the tenth struck. He nearly broke. He felt his fingers loosening and forced himself to hold on. After that, he found that he could help himself by doing a count down. At twelve, he said to himself, "Only six to go." That seemed to help and at last he heard the words he had been waiting for.
"Eighteen. Punishment complete, sir."
Captain Evans walked away. He had a boy to deal with after they'd all gone!
Senior Cadet Wren stood stiffly and climbed into his trousers, giving his bruises a swift rub as he did so. Then he was marched out. The three of them were marched to the door now known to all of them. They went into the first room and the Chief Instructor said, "You can relax now. Sorry about that. The Captain likes Cadets to have a final visit. The drinks last night were deliberate. But it's part of our tradition. Senior Cadets never leave without that experience.