When I last made an entry in this diary I said that I would next recount how I punished a third former. I will do that, but I have just had such a wonderful experience that I must first give the latest news.
I was particularly pleased to be appointed house tutor to the junior house because thirteen and fourteen year olds clearly need the cane rather more than older boys. Although I felt that it would be interesting to be able to beat fifth or even lower sixth formers, I realised that the opportunities would not be as frequent as they are in the junior house. I daresay that fifth formers require punishment reasonably often, but lower sixth formers, who are sixteen, could not be expected to get into trouble that frequently. I was entirely happy to forgo the pleasures of occasionally caning older boys in exchange for the certainty of being able to cane younger ones often.
Well, I have just had the great good fortune of being able to help out with the punishment of a lower sixth form boy. I was sitting in my study earlier this evening, waiting for the arrival of a fourth form boy whom I shall call Jones, when the telephone rang. It was the housemaster of the middle house. As I knew, he had sprained his right wrist in a masters against boys rugby match. He explained that both his house tutors were out for the evening and he was faced with the problem of having to punish a boy for smoking, but not being able to use his right arm.
"If I sent the boy round to you", he asked, "would there be any chance of your punishing him for me? I really wouldn't put you to the trouble if I could avoid it, but the lad obviously has to be caned and I would much rather he got his punishment as soon as possible rather than having to wait till tomorrow morning."
Naturally, I agreed to undertake the task. I asked how old the boy was and was told he was sixteen. I said that I assumed that he would need six strokes. He said he would rather the boy had eight, but six was the maximum allowed. We agreed that the boy, whom I shall call Wilson, would come to my study in ten minutes.
I should explain that Jones was also due a beating. He had been reported to me for skipping prep. Why he had done so, when he was bound to be missed and had already been caned twice this term, I had yet to discover. I checked the punishment book and saw that he had been given three strokes in the second week of term for ragging after lights out and four strokes two weeks later for missing chapel. The housemaster, who had given that punishment, had written in the book "I have told this boy that if he has to be beaten again this term he will be given six strokes". As it happens, despite the pleasure I get from caning boys, I tend to the view that boys of 14 very rarely need more than four strokes. Without the housemaster's instruction, I would almost certainly have decided to give Jones four. But I clearly could not undermine my immediate superior's authority and so I had reconciled myself to giving the boy six, although I resolved not to make them the hardest I could manage. I, of course, had no such concerns about Wilson. I didn't know the boy, having never taught him. Indeed, I couldn't put a face to his name, but if he was sixteen and had been caught smoking he clearly deserved six of the very best.
Wilson arrived first. I got something of a surprise when he came in. He was wearing gym shorts and shirt. I immediately recognised him as a boy whose physique I had admired as being ideal for the cane. He is about 5' 10" tall. He has a slim but athletic build. He doesn't have the dreaded adolescent's spots. His complexion is in fact quite clear. He has short dark hair and dark brown eyes. What had always struck me particularly about him were his long slim legs which I had felt sure would lead to a splendidly firm, slim round bottom. Tonight was the first time I had seen him without a jacket on and, as he turned to shut the door, I could see that I was not to be disappointed. His shorts were exceptionally brief and tight. I could clearly see the outline of a perfect bottom (which was obviously not protected by the added layer of underpants). I knew I was going to enjoy myself. He was carrying the middle house punishment book which he brought over and handed to me.
"Good evening sir, Mr Roberts" (not his real name) "told me that you have agreed to punish me for smoking. He has explained to me that you could have refused and then I'd have to have waited till tomorrow morning. I would have hated that so I am very grateful to you sir".
I assured him that it would be no trouble and then asked him whether gym kit was the normal attire for middle house boys when they had to be caned.
"Oh no sir, normally we wear ordinary school uniform, but Mr Roberts really hates smoking and he told me to get changed into these so that it would hurt more."
I opened the punishment book and leafed through it. I could tell at a glance that beatings were not as frequent in middle house as they were in mine. We are now half way through the term and there have been twenty six canings in junior house (the rate is bound to increase as the third form boys get more adventurous), but there have only been fifteen in middle house. This was to be Wilson's first beating of the term, although I had no doubt that he was no stranger to the cane.
I explained that Jones was also to be caned tonight and that, because he was a repeat offender, he was going to be given six. I said that he was due at that moment and that I was eager not to draw out the agony of waiting any longer than was necessary. I asked Wilson if he would mind waiting until I had finished with Jones.
"No, of course not sir, I'll go and wait in the corridor."
"No need to do that", I said, "you can wait in here, I don't suppose seeing another boy being caned will be exactly a novelty for you. By the way, although Jones's caning will certainly be painful, I am not proposing to use as much force on him as I will use on you. I just mention that so that you don't get lulled into thinking that your punishment will not be as severe as Mr Roberts would like."
I couldn't be sure, but I thought I detected a slight sparkle of pleasure in his eyes as he learnt that he was going to be able to watch Jones's caning.
At that moment there was a knock on the door. I called Jones in. In accordance with the practice in the house when a boy knew he was to be caned, he was not wearing his jacket. He is about 5' 3" in height and splendidly proportioned. I had not given him either of his other canings this term, but I had marked him out early on as being a boy I would like to have bending over in my study one day. He was looking remarkably smart this evening. His white shirt was unmarked and uncreased. His tie was properly worn. His tight fitting dark school trousers were well pressed and hugged his slim, firm bottom in such a way as to make its contours obvious. He looked at Wilson in some surprise.
I explained that I was helping out Mr Roberts whose injury prevented him from being able to cane boys at the moment and that Wilson was here to be beaten. I also explained that I would deal with Jones first so that he didn't have to wait any longer for his punishment. He duly expressed his gratitude, although I suspect that he wouldn't have minded a slightly longer wait. I then stood and picked up the junior house punishment book.
"The first thing you had better explain to me is why you missed prep this evening".
"I know I shouldn't have sir and I'm really sorry, but I was watching the England All Blacks match on the TV and it was just too exciting to miss."
"But you must have realised you wouldn't get away with it?"
"Oh yes sir, I knew that, and I can't complain about being punished, but it really was the most brilliant match and we were winning and, even though I know it'll hurt a lot, it really was worth it in the end because we won by three points."
I knew the boy was sports mad, but this was taking his obsession quite a long way.
"Did you remember, when you chose to miss prep, that Mr Williams" (again not his real name) "had told you that if you had to be beaten again this term you would get six?"
"Yes sir, and I must say that did make me think quite hard, but no one watching that match could have stopped half way through."
I have to say that I really did admire Jones. It was not easy to keep up my severe expression and I was afraid I might smile, but I forced myself to keep a straight face. I knew that I was not going to be able to manage much more of a telling off so I made do with very few words of admonition before proceeding with the punishment.
"Well Jones, you made the wrong decision. You are at this school to work. Games are important, but there is a time and place for them. Bend over in the normal place."
He moved to the centre of the room and I went to the cupboard to get a cane. I noticed that Wilson was staring at Jones's bottom and again wondered whether he might have my interest in corporal punishment. As I took my own position, I could see that the bottom I was about to thrash was indeed worth looking at. It could have been made to be caned.
I had decided that the first two strokes would be given with normal force, the next two would be softer and the final two would again be normal. I took aim, drew the cane back and slammed it hard onto the waiting bottom. Jones gave an involuntary, but small, jerk as the cane connected. I paused and then administered the next, with as much force as the previous one. This time he stayed stock still. I didn't pull the cane back as far for the third. It would still have hurt, but it was not as bad as the others had been. After the fourth, I could see that Jones, while not exactly relaxing, was not as tense as earlier. He got a rude shock when the fifth connected. Indeed, he almost fell forwards. He was not so relaxed for the last, which I made the hardest of all. I made him stay bending over for about ten seconds before telling him to get up. I glanced at Wilson. He could not keep his eyes off Jones's bottom. He was also now standing with both hands in front of his crotch. I turned back to Jones and told him to stand. He gratefully rose and rubbed his no doubt very sore bottom. His eyes were watering a little, but he had taken his punishment well. As I filled in the punishment book I spoke to him.
"You should be aware Jones that that was nowhere near as hard as my hardest. Should I have the misfortune to have to beat you again this term I will not be so lenient. Now, off you go and stay out of trouble."
He turned and made for the door. I noticed Wilson's eyes following him. I was determined to see whether my suspicions about Wilson were correct. I pointed to the chair where I had left the middle house punishment book.
"Bring me the book please Wilson."
He walked towards the chair, still with his hands in front of him. He picked up the book with his right hand and turned back to me, holding it in front of his crotch. I held my hand out, quite high and to my right, so that he would have to leave his crotch protected only by his left hand. That was enough for me. I could see a marked bulge. I was pleased to have given him something to remember.
He walked to the spot where Jones had been punished and bent over. He looked wonderful. His shorts were so short that the lower part of his bottom was actually bare, and it was absolutely perfect. I stepped forward. I had never beaten such a tall boy before and, as I took aim, it felt a bit strange holding the cane so high. But that created no difficulties. I decided to take a two pace run up for each stroke. He was watching me between his legs and when he saw me step back he grimaced in anticipation. I brought the cane back as far as I could and leapt forward. I put the entire weight of my body behind the blow. It was the hardest stroke I have ever given. I have to give him credit. He did not move a centimetre. I stepped back again. As I waited for the pain to sink in I was gratified to see, so thin were his white shorts, that the first stripe, which had landed across the middle of his bottom, was just visible through them. I decided to aim lower for the second. Again I jumped forward and brought the cane down as hard as possible. This one landed just above the crease dividing his long legs from his bottom. Almost the whole of the stripe was across bare flesh. It was the most magnificent sight! I watched, fascinated, as the stripe changed from pink to red. The pause between second and third stroke was a little longer than usual!
I placed the third stroke just above the first. Pleasant though it would have been to concentrate entirely on the naked lower part of his bottom, my sense of professionalism prevailed. I knew that a well beaten bottom was one which ended up with stripes evenly placed from top to bottom. The fourth was just above the lowest. Again, most of it was across bare flesh and, again, I could watch the colour changing. I could also see that the first visible one was now becoming raised. The fifth was the highest of the lot, just above the third. The last was between the first and fourth. The resulting stripe was just visible below the shorts. As is my practice, I made the last one even harder than any of the others. I gave Wilson the usual ten seconds before telling him he could get up. His face was a picture. He was grimacing in pain and clenching his teeth. I don't suppose he wanted to show me how bad it was, but he couldn't help clenching both buttocks in his hands and hopping from foot to foot. I turned to fill in his house punishment book and could hear him breathing deeply behind me. I took my time, to let him recover a little. When I turned back his face was no longer screwed up with pain. He was still rubbing his bottom, but with less vigour. I was not surprised to see that the earlier bulge at the front had subsided: I remember, from my own school days, that my excitement at seeing a friend being caned disappeared almost the second I bent over for my own punishment.
I handed him the book to return to Mr Roberts.
"I hope that was severe enough to satisfy Mr Roberts", I said, with a slight smile to show that the matter of his wrong-doing was now closed as far as I was concerned.
"Put it this way sir, Mr Roberts gave me six last term and I thought he must be the hardest caner in the school, now I know that you are. When I tell him how bad that was he is going to be very pleased indeed."
I liked Wilson. I think it is a great thing in a schoolboy to be able to take a thrashing without complaint and to show, immediately afterwards, that he bears no grudges. On the spur of the moment, I decided to do something to cheer him up, and give him even more enjoyment when he goes to bed tonight.
"Wilson", I said, "I do think it would be a very kind thing for you to go and find Jones and congratulate him on how he took his caning. He has never had six before, and it must have been quite an ordeal for him. I am sure that a few words of encouragement from a respected senior boy would go down very well. Would you mind doing that?"
"Of course not sir. Have you any idea where I might find him?"
"I can't believe you've forgotten the routine in Junior House after a swishing. Of course, I, being a mere master, have no idea why this should be, but it does occur to me that a boy might head straight to the changing rooms after a caning like that."
Wilson smiled. He obviously knew perfectly well that the convention was that a recently beaten boy could safely resort to the changing rooms to examine his wounds in the safe knowledge that no master would barge in. "I'll give that a try sir". He turned, clutching the punishment book, and headed out of the door.
Having recorded tonight's momentous events, I must now go and supervise bed time. I wonder if I will get a glimpse of my handiwork on Jones's bottom.
The door to Jones's dormitory was just ajar as I got there. I crept up and peered through. I could see Jones's bed, just to the right, and he was lying on it, face down with his pyjama trousers down, allowing his friends to admire his six stripes. I got a perfect view! I stood and listened.
"Wow", came a voice from just out of my sight, "those are the best stripes I've ever seen. Did you blub?".
"Course not, you nerd. I'm not saying it wasn't the worst swishing of my life, but I'm not a weed."
"Did you hear Wilson's swishing through the door?" This from another out of sight voice.
"No, I was too keen to get to the changing rooms. But he came and found me afterwards, which was really kind. Actually, he said that Mr Thompson" (the name I shall give myself) "told him he could look for me. The great thing was that as well as looking at my bum, he let me look at his. I can tell you, if you think these stripes are bad you should have seen his. Apparently Mr Thompson even took a run up. He said it was the hardest swishing he'd ever had, but he hadn't minded because Mr Thompson is such a great master."
I then heard the distinctive tones of Smith, the first boy I had beaten here. "He's quite right about that. Some people might say that having the hardest swisher in the school as your house tutor is bad luck, but I reckon it's a small price to pay when you think how great he is. Even though it hurts twice as much, I'd much rather get the swish off Mr Thompson than any other master."
Yet again, I was being praised by boys for my prowess with the cane. I crept back a few paces and then walked forwards, stamping my feet on the ground so they would know I was coming. As I opened the door, Jones was pulling his pyjamas up and other boys were scurrying to their beds.
"Looks like there's been another show of stripes", I said as I entered, "oh well, I can't blame you. It would be dishonest of me to pretend that I didn't do exactly the same when I was a boy."
The housemaster is doing the night stint tonight, so I am off to spend a few hours in my girlfriend's bed. Her delights are almost unrivalled, but I daresay that my enjoyment will not exactly be diminished by thoughts of Wilson and Jones! Certainly, my guess as to what Wilson will be up to (and what he will be thinking of) as he lies between his sheets is something I find quite pleasurable.