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In case you are new to these stories, here is a brief recap.
Roger Livingstone had cheated at university and submitted an essay which was not his. His tutor had given him the choice between official action, which would mean his immediate expulsion from university or getting himself thrashed by a relative or friend and returning to prove that it had been done. He had tried to find his uncle but had discovered that he was away. On the way back home, he accepted the offer of help from an older man, Peter Hill, who gave him his caning but also required that he went back for a second instalment.
That occasion had rounded off his earliest encounter with corporal punishment with a heavy strap, a tawse and a final few with a cane.
Now read on.
During the weeks after his encounter with Mr Peter Hill, his cane, his strap and his son's tawse, Roger Livingstone had allowed those events to feed his fantasies. He knew that he could not arrange for another session.
One day, plans had been made for him to go to Worcester with a friend. There was an organ recital and it was a piece of work they both wanted to hear. At the last minute, his friend was unable to go and Roger drove up alone.
The recital over, he had a snack in the city and then set out to get back to Bristol. At the motorway, a young man stood at the start of the slip road. He might well be a student and Roger pulled up.
His door was opened and the figure bent down.
"Can you drop me at junction ten, please?"
Roger thought quickly. "Isn't that the one for Gloucester?"
"Yes. Can you take me, please?"
"Not to there. If I go up that slip road to drop you, I can't get on the motorway again. You ought to try another route or have a sign saying 'Gloucester' when someone going that way would stop for you. They aren't going to be stopping for you if they think you're going further. You couldn't get back on, either."
The enquirer stepped back and closed the door.
Roger started off and heard the young man call to another one a few yards further down, "There's no point. He knows about that junction."
The thumb was withdrawn leaving Roger to decide whether to stop for a an older man who as also thumbing. He did so.
"Can you get me as far as junction thirteen, please? It's the one for Stroud."
"No problem. Hop in."
The man got in and closed the door. As he settled down he asked, "What was the fuss up there?"
Roger replied, "They were trying to get a lift for the Gloucester turn off. It's OK if you're actually going to Gloucester, but if you turn off there, you can't get on again. The slip roads only point north."
"Did they know that?"
Roger said, "I'll say they did. They're just waiting for some mug who doesn't realise. I heard the first one shout to the other that I knew about the junction. That's why the second one took his thumb in."
Roger's passenger said, "That's the trouble with a lot of today's youngsters. No thought for other people. It comes from lack of discipline. What they need is a good caning and I'd happily give it to them if I had the chance."
He had moved the conversation onto a subject that fascinated Roger. It was time for introductions.
"By the way, I'm Roger Livingstone."
"I'm Harold Furness. Pleased to meet you."
Harold was probably between forty five and fifty years old. He looked very fit but Roger could not work out what sort of job he might have.
Roger said, "Are you a teacher?"
"No. What makes you think that?"
"It was you saying that you'd cane those lads. I thought you must be in a job where you were an expert."
"I was but not teaching. I was in the Royal Navy. Went in as a boy seaman and then served my full twenty two years for a pension."
"I didn't realise that they use the cane in the Navy."
"It's only in the boys' training establishments. I was in the Regulating Branch. That's the part that looks after discipline and I had some time at Fisgard. That's an apprentice training centre down in Cornwall. The Captain could order up to twelve strokes. It was better for them than being locked up in cells or something like that. I was lucky. I had the chance to get the cane working round several of them. They didn't come back for a second dose, just like I didn't when I had a dose when I was a boy seaman myself. I do the same for my own lads now, when they deserve it and I'd cane anyone else if they deserved it."
Roger decided to revive his story from a couple of months back. There was always the chance that he might get another caning and this seemed to be a man he thought would be fair.
"Are you serious?"
The retired sailor asked, "What about?"
"That you'd cane anybody who deserved it."
"I'll say I am."
"Would you cane me?"
"If you deserve it, I would. Gladly. What have you done?"
"It's just that I'm going back home after a wasted journey. I've been to see my uncle. He's away and won't be back in time. I'm a student and I was stupid. I handed someone else's work as mine."
"You could get thrown out for that, couldn't you?"
"Yes, but my tutor is an older man and he was brought up in boarding schools. He said that, if I go to a relative or friend, ask them to cane me and go back to him to prove that it's been done then he'll accept that I've been punished and that would be the end of the matter."
Harold said, "Are you saying that if you can go back to him with a striped backside, he'll accept that you've been punished and you can stay at university?"
"Yes."
"And that you went to ask your uncle to do it?"
"That's right but he's away and there isn't anyone else I can think of that I can ask."
"So you'd like me to do it?"
"If you don't mind."
"I told you, I'll do it gladly. In a way it's a bit like it was in the Navy except that you're older. Part of the idea of it was something that would shake them up but wasn't as bad as the equivalent an adult would be getting. It'll be better for you to have your backside striped than to lose your whole career."
It had been easier than Roger imagined that it would be. It was almost as though it had been fixed in the stars for him. He had had no intention of trying anything like this when he set out or even when he picked Harold up.
"Will we be able to do it at your place, please, Harold?"
"If you'll take me there, yes. In the circumstances, it might be better if you call me Mr Furness."
"Sorry, Mr Furness. You're right. This puts you in charge."
"Have you ever been caned before?"
Roger did not like lying but he could reply truthfully but in a way that his passenger would misunderstand. "My parents didn't use corporal punishment and neither did my school."
"You're in for a bit of a shock, then. I do it the way we used to in the Navy."
"How's that?"
"Well, as a start, the lads used to have to change into a special white uniform. It was lightweight, white trousers. They didn't give much protection and held their backsides nice and tight for the cane. Just that. No underclothes under them. Then they'd lie across a bench and we'd lay it on. Usually they had to be held down for it."
Roger said, "I haven't got any trousers like that."
"That doesn't matter. I managed to get several of them when I left the Navy and there'll be one to fit you. That's what I do with my lads when they need it. It might be silly, but it brings back memories for me and making it formal like that helps to drive in that it's serious for them. Did your tutor say how many you should have?"
"Not really."
"Come on, Roger. Did he or didn't he?"
"No. The closest he got was talking briefly about his school."
"Fair enough. I'll do it for you. Just two conditions. You accept the number I think you should have and you have it the way I say."
Roger replied, "That's fair, Mr Furness. There's no reason you should help me and you will be by doing this."
"There's every reason why I should help you. As a start, you're helping me by giving me a lift. You can say it's one good turn deserving another."
Roger knew that he was committed. It is true that he could have dropped Mr Furness at his junction or even at his home but he knew that he would now go through with it. He said, "Well, thank you for agreeing to do it."
Mr Furness smiled and said, "You might not be saying that by the time we've finished."
Roger replied, "I know it'll hurt. That's obvious. It's obvious that I've got to be punished as well and it will be better to get it over fairly quickly like this rather than paying for it for years to come. I deserve to be punished."
"If you're looking at it like that, it'll help you to take it. In the Navy, it was the ones who wouldn't accept that they were wrong who were the worst at taking it, usually."
Harold Furness intermittently kept the conversation on what was clearly one of his favourite topics until they reached the first sign for Junction Thirteen. As soon as the mile warning sign appeared, he said, "We can put things right for you fairly soon now. This is the junction."
A mile later, Roger turned off. About five miles further on, they pulled up outside a detached house. Mr Furness got out and opened the gate. Roger drove in. There would be no turning back.
He got out and locked the car.
Mr Furness said, "As well as my pension, I've got a senior job with a security firm. I wish I could have had an opportunity like you're getting. I lost my driving licence for being drunk at the wheel. It nearly cost me my job. Fortunately, they found me another senior post, mainly in the office but I preferred the other. As well as that, I have to hitch hike or use the bus or train now. I'd have preferred a good thrashing. It would have punished me. To be honest, this is a nuisance, more than a punishment. It's unfair as well. If I'd had a different boss, it would have cost me my job so different people get punished differently. If it was the cane or something like that, it would be the same for everybody.""
He led the way to the back of the house. The back door was open.
"Funny. I wasn't expecting my wife back yet."
A young male voice from inside said, "She's not back yet, Dad. It's me and I thought you'd want to get things over before she comes back."
A lad aged about sixteen or seventeen came into the kitchen which they had entered. He was wearing a square necked sailor's shirt and white, bell-bottomed trousers, clearly of the pattern Mr Furness had spoken about. Roger could immediately see what Mr Furness had meant about their backsides being held nice and tight. It was certainly true of this lad, whose attractive buttocks were displayed to perfection in those trousers.
He turned to Roger and said, "Have you got time for me to find out what this is about?"
"Sure. I can see my tutor tomorrow morning."
"Well, Gavin. What's happened?"
"I'm sorry, Dad. I've managed for nearly eighteen months without you having to cane me, but you're going to have to now. I thought you'd prefer to have me ready and you can get it done before Mum gets in. That way, she doesn't have to find out. You know how it upsets her."
"You still haven't told me what you've done."
"I've got a note for you. There were four of us caught out of school. He's sent us all home for parents to deal with and he says we can go back tomorrow if he has a note to tell him what's been done."
Mr Furness said, "What were you playing at?"
"I don't know. I know it was stupid and I'm sorry. It was nice weather and we were bored."
"What's going to happen to the others?"
"Brian will probably get a belting. That's what his Dad does. I expect that Alan will be gated for a month or something like that and they'll dock some pocket money off Stephen. That's what normally happens."
"Well, you're right. I'm going to have to cane you. I'd better introduce you. This is Roger. He gave me a lift and we got talking in the car. He's got himself into a spot of bother. It could be very serious but they'll accept that he's been punished if he's had a good caning and so I've offered to do it for him."
Gavin held his hand towards Roger and said, "Pleased to meet you."
They shook hands and Gavin added, "It hurts like mad, but I think it's the best way. At least it teaches you it was wrong. Brian will be the same with his belting. I don't think it's fair to have something like being gated the way Alan's parents do. I mean, he won't be able to go out at night or during the weekend for about four weeks. It's too long. The way Stephen's parents do things is just stupid. They'll fine him and then lend him some money because he's broke and forget to ask for it back. I'm sure that's why he's always in trouble. He doesn't get punished properly. I'm glad you're here, really. I was going to have to try to manage by myself because my brother won't be in until after Mum. Would you hold me down, please? It'll be easier to take it."
Roger replied, "If your father wants me to, Gavin."
Mr Furness said, "I'd better read that letter first, Gavin."
The letter was handed over. Mr Furness opened it, read it and said, "I'm pleased you worked out where it would lead you. Roger, I'd appreciate it if you'll help like Gavin asked you. Now, let's get it over."
Gavin said, "I've got some canes by the table, ready. Actually, I didn't know which one you'd want and so I got them all."
He led the way into the garage. Mr Furness followed and Roger brought up the rear.
Mr Furness said, "My wife's got the car and so there's plenty of room."
He was right. It was a large garage, capable of holding two fair sized cars and made to look even larger by its comparative emptiness.
Gavin said, "How many will it be, Dad?"
"Four will be enough to teach you, won't it?"
"Yes. Actually, I was expecting six this time."
"I'm taking into account that it's been a long time since the last one. You've earned a reduction."
"Thanks. Shall I get in place now, Dad?"
His father nodded. Gavin crossed to the table standing in the middle of the garage and said, "Roger, will you stand at my head end, please, and hold my shoulders down? If you don't mind, I'll hold on round your waist as well."
Mr Furness said, "No. We'll do it properly if you're going to be held down this time, just like it was in the service. Roger, you see that the top of the trousers seem to be sticking up, above what would seem to be the normal line?"
"Yes."
"Its done like that so that it can be grasped. It pulls the trousers tight over the boy's bottom and you can hold him firmly in place. It's better than holding shoulders because that way the boy can move his bottom."
Gavin bent forward and Roger took the lugs on the trousers, pulled tight and effectively pressed down on Gavin's waist. Gavin said, "Press harder when it starts, please."
His father approached and Roger watched. He saw him aim carefully, placing the end of the cane so that both cheeks would get the impact. He took it well back, at the same time, moving his body round. He was like a well tightened spring. Suddenly, the spring was released. Simultaneously his whole body moved with his arm driving the cane back to the exact point where he had aimed with tremendous power. Roger saw it strike and almost bury itself in the tight cheeks. It bounced back again and Gavin's arms clung tightly onto Roger. Roger pressed his shoulders down as he had been requested.
Mr Furness paused. Roger did not know but the reason for the break was to allow the offender to feel the full effect of the first stroke before the second one was applied. After about fifteen seconds, he was aiming again. Once again, it was taken back and once again it was driven into the boy's trouser seat. Roger and Gavin worked together to help him stay in place.
Roger was aware that a gasp was being driven from Gavin's mouth. He was almost surprised that it wasn't a scream.
About twenty seconds later, the third stroke landed and after the same delay , the fourth.
Mr Furness said, "Punishment complete. Make that the last time, please Gavin."
Gavin rubbed his trouser seat and said, "I'll try."
Mr Furness said, "Is there another suit handy that will fit Roger?"
Gavin replied, "I think there is, but if he doesn't mind waiting a few seconds for me to change, he could wear this one. He's the same size as me."
"What's the point of that?"
"Well, there'll only be one suit for the wash. That'll be less work but as well as that Mum can know you've helped Roger so she won't need to get upset about me."
Mr Furness said, "Do you mind wearing the suit Gavin's wearing, Roger?"
"Not at all."
"Take him off, then, Gavin. You can both change in your room."
The three of them went back to the house. Gavin led the way upstairs. In his bedroom, he took off the shirt and put a dressing gown on. He took the trousers down and Roger noticed that Gavin's response had been the same as his. He had a mighty hard.
He said, "If my brother and I are together, we usually feel each other's stripes. Do you want to feel mine?"
"Do you mind?"
"I'd like you to, if you don't mind."
He turned round, lifted the dressing gown and displayed four beautiful stripes. Roger ran his fingers over them, feeling the separate ridges that each stroke had made. Gavin allowed the dressing gown to fall again and said, "If you go to the bathroom with your clothes, you can make sure that you don't want to go to the loo. You don't want to pee yourself or have a crap while it's happening. Take off all your own clothes apart from your shoes and socks. No underpants. The only protection you're allowed is these trousers. I'll get dressed while you're there."
Roger went to the bathroom and locked the door. He followed his instructions precisely, stripping and then using the toilet. He dressed in the uniform and then came out, making enough noise to ensure that Gavin heard him, in case he was having a wank.
In the bedroom, Gavin said, "Dad came up while you were there. He said I'd got to make sure that you haven't left you underpants on. It's OK. I can see them with your clothes."
"Would he prefer you to check that I haven't got anything on?"
"I think he would, if you don't mind."
Roger turned his back, unfastened the belt and the peculiar naval system of fastening trousers and pushed them down."
"OK, thanks. I can see. Can you hang on a couple of minutes, now, please. I've got to go to the toilet as well."
He disappeared. Roger did wonder whether, with his father's coming up, he was going for some other private activity. However, he was happy to leave that to him.
A few minutes later, they went down and through to the garage.
Gavin said, "You weren't to know because nobody told you. When my brother and I are together, the one who is holding counts the strokes as well. I'll do that for you. I suppose you'll be getting a fair sized walloping. If I'm counting, Dad can forget about the numbers and it'll reduce the risk of you getting even more if he loses count. He'll tell you how many you're getting, I expect. That's what they did in the Navy, when the Captain said how many they'd be getting and somebody else gave it to them."
Mr Furness followed them into the garage.
He said, "Stand at the end of the table, Livingstone."
Roger felt that this level of formality was right and obeyed, saying "Yes, sir."
With Roger in position, Mr Furness faced him and said, "I've given careful consideration to how many would be right. For a boy in the Royal Navy, for something of the seriousness of what you've done, it would be the full twelve, the maximum the Captain can award. You are older than they were and you've got more to lose than they had. I think that twenty five strokes would be fair."
Gavin cried out, "Dad, that's too many."
Roger said, "Leave it, Gavin. I asked your father to cane me and I agreed that he would decide what was right. What he says sounds fair to me."
Gavin said, "Are you really sure, Dad? I mean, how old were the apprentices when they stopped being caned?"
"Eighteen. What's that got to do with it?"
"Well, Roger isn't all that much older than they were, is he? Are you really sure?"
"Perhaps you're right. I'll see what I think after eighteen. Get down, Livingstone."
Roger lay across the table. Like Gavin had done earlier, he put his head alongside the waist at the head of the table and put his arms around. He felt Gavin take the top of his trousers, pull them tight and press down on his waist. All he had to do now was wait and wonder whether he was going to get eighteen, twenty five or some figure between them.
He felt a slight contact as Mr Furness took aim. Then there was a slight sound as the cane sped through the air.
CRRACK!
He felt the cane drive into his seat. It was far worse than anything that had happened before. There was a torrent of pain overwhelming every corner of his body. He had seen him operate. Now he could feel it. The man knew what he was doing. Roger clamped his jaw tightly closed and held equally tightly onto Gavin. He felt Gavin press down on his shoulders and was grateful.
Gavin said, "One."
Roger understood the need for the pause. It allowed him to calm down but he was aware that the twenty seconds were coming to an end. Then his buttocks exploded for a second time.
CRRACK!
Once again, he held onto Gavin, who supported him with the same pressure.
"Two."
Again, he lay there, trying to relax a little and allow himself to recover after the blow. Then it happened again.
CRRACK! "Three." Gavin saved him trying to work out how far he had got. He knew he had to go through with it now. There was no escape. The best thing to do was that allow himself to adapt to the slow rhythm which was being imposed on him.
CRRACK! "Four." Another break and then, CRRACK! "Five". Another break and then, CRRACK! "Six." Another break and then, CRRACK! "Seven."
CRRACK! "Eight."
CRRACK! "Nine." Gavin said quietly, "That's half way through if Dad stops at eighteen."
If Roger had been honest, he would have admitted that he would have been happy for Mr Furness to stop at nine, but that was not to be. Inexorably, the painful process went on.
CRRACK! "Ten."
By the fifteenth, Roger was beginning to realise that he was now so bruised that he was becoming numb. He was sure that Mr Furness was driving them in as hard as before but they did not hurt as much.
CRRACK! "Sixteen."
CRRACK! "Seventeen."
CRRACK! "Eighteen."
Gavin said, "I know it's your decision, Dad, but I don't think that there's much point in giving him any more."
"Why not?"
"I'm not sure. Either he's passing out or the bruising is making him numb. It hardly needs any effort to hold him down now."
"Very well. Release him."
Gavin removed his pressure and Roger let go.
Mr Furness said, "Can you stand up, Livingstone?"
Roger applied some pressure to the table and forced himself up.
"Do you think what I've done will be enough to satisfy your tutor."
It was certainly enough to satisfy Roger and he could hardly admit that his tutor had been satisfied weeks ago.
"I think so, sir, thank you."
"Gavin is probably right. That is enough unless he's not satisfied. If that is the case, then come back and we'll see what else we can do."
"Thank you, sir."
"Gavin. You're closer to his age than I am. Take him back to the bathroom and powder his backside before he gets dressed. Then leave him. Remember. No hanky panky."
Gavin led the way. Roger collected his clothes and they went into the bathroom. Gavin said, "Turn your back and then get the clothes off and lie over the loo. That'll be best, I think."
Roger removed his clothing. Gavin gasped and said, "I hope I never have to have one like that. Your bottom's terrible."
"It was fair, though. I deserved it."
Gavin powdered Roger's rump and said, "He's always fair. You've just got to be careful to discuss it carefully and not argue if you think he's going too far. I think it's his Navy training. It's the same with what he called hanky panky. That's his Navy training as well. It doesn't stop me doing things by myself, though."
Roger found himself alone. He locked the door and then, in the mirror he was able to view a splendid set of bruises. Turning round, he could see another part of his anatomy which needed attention. As Gavin had said, the prohibition on hanky panky did not apply to solo efforts.
It was about a quarter of an hour later when he went back downstairs. Gavin was waiting and said, "Dad says he hopes you'll have a cup of tea and a cake before you go. He's in the kitchen."
Roger followed him through.
Roger said, "Thank you again, sir."
"Now that it's over, forget the formality. I'm Harold."
"Well, thank you, Harold. I really am grateful and I'm as sure as I can be that my tutor will be satisfied. In any case, it had really stopped being a proper punishment. I wasn't feeling it properly. If you think that I ought to have the rest to be fair to my tutor then I could come back for them when these bruises have gone down."
Roger would have been perfectly happy to return for a limited dose when he had got over what he had had. It was not to be.
"No. Gavin was right and that was enough."
Soon afterwards, Roger was on his way home.
To be continued.