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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.
Later he used the same story again, this time to get a caning from Harold Furness, who had been in the Royal Navy and had both experienced and dished out canings there. Things developed even further when he met Russell Omerod who introduced Roger to his old headmaster who birched him. Russell also uncovered Roger's desire for caning when he realised that his story was not true. This enabled him to lead him on to other experiences as well.
Now read on.
In the middle of August, things began to change for Roger. The first thing was that his parents reappeared. They did not interfere and it was only going to be a brief stay between overseas trips. The arrangement of a totally independent flat within the house was respected and Roger ran his own life, even with them around. Russell continued to call, partly as an escape from his family who had returned. His father was being even more of a pain than usual.
One day Russell said, "Didn't you say that there was a second flat here?"
"Yes. Dad's talking about letting it if he can find anyone reliable. He was asking whether a research student would want it. We are fairly handy for the university. Why?"
"Would you want a cousin of mine around?"
"I don't see why not. It would between him and Dad or his agent anyway. Why?"
"I've got a cousin, Basil Chapman. He's done his degree at Cambridge and he's just heard that there's a research place for him here. I think you'd get on with him as well, especially if we told him about you wanting thrashings."
"Do you mean he'd want to be caning me?"
"I don't know about that, but I know he's turned on by it as well. He went to a different school from me and his prefects used to use the cane. He was a prefect. I've had some fun with him as well. If you get on, you'll have him around when I go back to Oxford."
"If we meet and get on, we could do that even if he doesn't come to the other flat."
"OK. He doesn't live too far away. I'll get him over."
A few days later, Russell appeared with Basil. He was a year older than Roger, but well built and fair haired, as Roger was. They talked for some time before Basil said, "I don't get it."
Russell said, "You don't get what?"
"You don't live near each other, you go to different universities, you went to different schools. How did you two meet?"
Roger said, "It's my fault really. Some time ago, I got into trouble and it could have finished everything. My tutor was understanding and said that he'd accept it had been dealt with if I could get caned and prove to him that I had been."
Basil said, "I wish I'd known you. I'd have gladly caned you as much as he wanted. What did you do? Get Russell to do it?"
"No. I didn't know him then. Besides, I'm not certain that he'd have wanted to do it. I went to see my uncle. That was no use. He was away. On the way back, I gave a lift to a man and he could see that I was worried. I told him what the problem was and he gave me my whacking. That saved my career."
Russell said, "It was the first whacking he'd every had. They didn't use the cane in his school."
Roger said, "That's right. But as time went on, I found myself wanting to be punished again. I wasn't out looking for people to do it, but if the subject came up, I presented the same problem. Once was a man who'd done it officially when he was in the Navy. Well, I gave Russell a lift and he found a different way out."
Russell said, "It could have been more than he wanted. I took him to my old school. The head birched him. Well, after that, Roger and I have seen a fair amount of each other. It got me away from the family and it's been fun with him anyway."
Basil asked, "And did you give him some comfort after his birching?"
Russell said, "Yes. It was his first try but we've done it several more times since then."
"What? Birching or the other stuff?"
"The other stuff, of course. We haven't been walloping each other. Not even with a strap or a gym shoe. We could have done. Dad was getting stroppy the other day and he told me to get the tawse. I did, but I didn't give it to him. I told him that I'd take a leathering from him if I deserved it but not just because he'd got his knickers in a twist. I brought it over to show Roger but we didn't use it."
"Have you got it handy?"
"Yes. I didn't take it back."
Roger said, "It's behind the books on that shelf so that my parents don't see it. It would take some explaining. Do you want to see it?"
"Yes, please."
Roger got up, collected it and passed it to Basil. He held it and ran it through his fingers appreciatively.
"Right. We've got a right pair here, haven't we?"
Russell said, "What do you mean?"
"Well, there's you for a start. I'll be fair. Nobody should be leathered unfairly but, no matter how unreasonable your father is, there's no need to be rude. You could simply have told him politely that you are getting older and that he's brought you up to distinguish right and wrong. You would accept a punishment if one was due but not unreasonably."
"I suppose so."
"Something else. Did you know that Roger's reason for a caning was a put up job?"
"Not when I explained to the Head. I had worked it out during the afternoon and before it happened."
"Fair enough. There wouldn't have been much point in splitting on him. He got his thrashing and from what I've heard about the Reverend Oliver Middlemiss, he would have enjoyed giving every stroke."
He turned to Roger. "Even if there's nothing else, we've got you fibbing to trick people into thrashing you. That's dishonesty."
Roger said, "I suppose so."
"Right. I think there are two backsides in this room that deserve a good walloping and mine isn't one of them. Roger, for deception and dishonesty and Russell for rudeness to his father and unnecessarily humiliating him."
Roger said, "It's fair as far as I'm concerned. I don't know about Russell."
Russell said, "And for me. You're right. Now?"
"We might as well. I've got a date with an old school friend of mine soon. I can leather you both. That will set me up nicely for when I see him and you two can comfort each other if you want to."
Roger said, "There's no problem this morning. There isn't even any risk of my parents coming round. I know they're out until after lunch. Where do you want to do it?"
"We'll use the bedroom like my father used to, if that's OK with you."
Roger led the way.
Once inside, Basil said, "OK, the pair of you. Strip down to your underpants. That includes shoes and socks. Nothing looks more stupid than a boy wearing socks or shoes and nothing else."
Roger and Russell undressed. Roger, as he had always done, put his clothes tidily on a chair. Russell's were dropped on the floor until Basil said, "Russell, that's extra for untidiness."
Soon they stood facing him, dressed as he had demanded.
"Right. Even with his extra, Russell isn't due for as many as Roger and so Roger can start. We'll get him warmed up and he can have a break while Russell has his."
Roger asked, "Where do you want me?"
"Pants off now and then kneeling on the bed, resting on your forearms and face and shoulders right down. That should give me a good enough target. If you drop or collapse, I'll carry on but you get more."
Roger placed himself in the required position and waited.
SPPLATT!
The tawse crashed across Roger's buttocks. Once again, Roger was appreciating the pain of punishment and feeling better for it.
SPPLATT!
It fell a second time. The power was almost great enough to knock him flat. He forced himself to remain in place, aware not only that he would get extra but also that flat on the bed, he could well have an "accident".
SPPLATT! SPPLATT! SPPLATT! SPPLATT!
Six tremendous wallops. Roger knew that his rump was nicely red but also knew that there was more to come. He did not know how many but did know that each stroke now had its equivalent in the second instalment.
SPPLATT!
The seventh told him that it would not stop at six.
SPPLATT! SPPLATT!
"Get up and face the wall."
Roger obeyed, but made certain that he could witness Russell's treatment by placing himself so that he could see the bed and anything on it in the mirror. He held his seat and massaged the damage.
He watched Russell get onto the bed and attempt to get into position. He did not manage as well as Roger had done and Basil twice adjusted his stance. Then he raised the tawse and Roger watched it being almost dragged through the air to crash into the waiting cheeks.
SPPLATT!
Roger could see the immediate development of a pinkness where the tawse had fallen or rather it had crashed onto him.
SPPLATT! SPPLATT! SPPLATT!
Remorselessly, Basil went on with his punishing and reforming work. The tawse fell six times. Roger continued to count silently. Seven, eight, nine.
At this point, Russell made a mistake. He allowed his arms to slip and was pushed flat by the following stroke.
Basil said, "You were getting three more. Stay there. It's six now."
It was then that Roger realised that it would be no easier there. It was true that the bottom presented a different target and it was not tense in the way it was when the offender was bent forward. On the other hand, when flat on the bed, the tawse could be driven straight down with tremendous power. He held his own throbbing symbol of manhood as he watched that tawse falling. Eventually, Russell had had his extra six and he was allowed up and told to take Roger's place.
Roger was now due for his surprise.
"In my father's rules, if you have a break, it's nearly the same as collapsing. Lie flat for the rest. You don't get a bonus."
Roger said, "Hang on, please. I'll get a towel for the bed in case I come while you're doing it."
Quickly, he got a towel from the rail by the washbasin, laid it on the bed and lay in place. Basil started again.
SPPLATT!
Roger was aware of the extra power he was getting into the strokes.
SPPLATT! SPPLATT!
One by one, the number was made up. He had his nine.
Basil said, "Get up."
Roger rose.
Basil rubbed his groin and said, "I'll be getting off to my friend. I can slam the door. Enjoy yourselves!"
They moved onto the bed. Roger said, "Getting that like that, I'm nearly ready to come. Shall I get you up a bit first?"
He took Russell's penis and held it. He gently rubbed it and felt Russell take his.
Russell said, "I'll just keep you up until we're ready."
His greater experience meant that it was Russell who took Roger's throbbing, sweating organ into his mouth first. Roger took the hint and accepted Russell's. Massaged by tongue and mouth, Roger was aware that he was about to come just as he felt the first arrival of fluid from his partner. It was their first simultaneous orgasm.
By the beginning of September, Basil had made the arrangements with Roger's father and was the tenant in the other "granny flat". It was after that that he had another idea.
Roger found out when he met him in the Union at lunch time. It was nowhere near the beginning of term, of course, but Basil was getting ready to start his research and Roger had been using the library. In any case, eating in the Union was fairly cheap and saved preparing meals. Russell was away for a fortnight, escaping from his father.
They met in the bar and Basil procured two halves. They sat alone and Basil said, "Do you remember telling me about going to Russell's school?"
"Yes. It seems ages ago when I told you and ancient history when it actually happened. Why?"
"I just wondered whether you'd like to try a parallel performance at my old school."
"Isn't there a risk that your head might have heard about it from the other one?"
"No chance. In the first place, I don't imagine heads go about talking about the whackings they give. In the second place, there's miles between the schools. Mine's north of Bristol and you know where the other is and in the third place, I can't imagine my head having anything to do with the other one. He was always struggling to get the Governors to make our place bigger and he looked down on smaller schools. Russell's school was less than a third of our size. I wouldn't tell him this, but it's really a bit grotty. In actual fact, he must be quite bright to have got to Oxford. As far as I can find out, he was the first person in the history of the school to go to either Oxford or Cambridge and it's been going since 1922."
"I'm game. When?"
"This afternoon. I've already fixed it if you want to do it. I rang the school and went over to see the Head this morning. I told him about getting in here for research and then explained that, because I knew you, I'd been approached by a lecturer. He explained how you'd misbehaved. You know about that, of course. He was telling me because, as far as he was concerned, if you put things right by asking for the work back again and replacing the cribbed stuff with your own, and you had been punished appropriately, the matter would be forgotten. He lapped it up and he can see you this afternoon if you want to go."
Roger said, "Do I! Thanks. It's a good thing we only had half a pint. Apart from driving, we don't want to go smelling of booze."
"That's why I got the drinks."
Basil added, "There is one thing, though. Have you got white running shorts and vest?"
"Yes. Why?"
"It's the tradition. It's what we always wore for a whacking. It would be courteous to fit in with their traditions."
"It'll be something new as well. Can I have some comfort with you as well?"
"Try to stop me!"
"That'll be something else that's new. It'll be easy in one of our flats. My parents are having a holiday in Paris before they go off to Dad's next job."
At three o'clock that afternoon, Basil was driving Roger down the drive of his old school. He parked and Roger took out a small bag with his old gym kit in.
As they moved towards the front door, a middle aged man came out.
Basil said quietly, "It's Mr Churms." It was the name Roger recognised from the notice board as belonging to the headmaster.
"I was looking through my study widow and I saw you arrive, Chapman. Come in."
They followed him in and he said, "You've timed it well. I normally have a cup of coffee around this time, term time or not, if I'm in my study. Please sit down over there."
He indicated some soft, low chairs around a coffee table. As they sat down, a lady, presumably his secretary, came in carrying a tray. Cups were placed in front of each one. She indicate the sugar and biscuits and went out.
Basil said, "This is Roger Livingstone, the lad I was telling you about, sir."
Mr Churms looked towards Roger and said, "I hear you're in trouble, young man. I'd like you to explain exactly what has happened."
Roger had checked the exact story Basil had produced and said, "I can't explain why it happened, sir. It was stupid and unnecessary. It's work which can be handed in during the vacation or at the beginning of term. I think I was just anxious to get it out of the way. In the library, inside one of the books that I had borrowed, there was a manuscript on the same subject. I copied some of it without acknowledgement. I know quite well that plagiarism is a cardinal sin in academic circles and I committed it. I understand from Basil that it was obvious. It's a different style from mine and he says that my tutor says it's not even up to my standard. When he saw me and explained that I'd been rumbled, I was half relieved, sir."
"Relieved?"
"Yes, sir. As I said, I knew it was wrong and I despised myself for doing it. I've already been to my tutor and asked him not to mark it because I want to make serious changes to it. He can't really give it back to me until I've been punished, sir. I can see that, because it's his evidence that I've done it. I can see that I deserve a serious punishment. I'm grateful that he is giving me an unofficial way out and, if I understand Basil correctly, and you are prepared to help me, then I'm grateful to you as well."
Mr Churms said, "I think you've covered everything. You've admitted that you were wrong, you have recognised that you ought to be punished and you've done what you can to put things right already. It would be a pity if what could be a good academic career is spoiled by a single, very foolish mistake. I will see that you are helped."
Roger said, "Thank you, sir. Basil told me that you have a tradition that boys being punished wear running strip, sir. I've brought mine."
"Good." He turned to Basil and said, "Chapman, will you take him over to the gym, please. He can change in the boys' changing room and leave his clothes there. Term hasn't started and so there won't be any boys in, of course. I'll join you in a few minutes."
Basil stood and said, "Yes, sir."
Roger rose and followed him out. Once again, he was committed.
A few minutes later, Roger was changing when another man came in.
"Chapman, it's good to see you. The Headmaster told me that you'd probably be over. Have you got any gym shoes or training shoes with you?"
"No, sir."
"You ought to have some. We can't have you on the gym floor in ordinary shoes and you might be needed. There'll be a lot of work trying to arrange mats for you as well as the Headmaster. What size do you take?"
"Nine, sir."
"If you don't mind wearing someone else's, I'll see if we've got a pair that size. You'll remember that they get left lying around and boys won't mark them properly and so be can't trace owners."
He disappeared and returned a few minutes later. He threw a pair of gym shoes towards Basil and said, "Try these."
Basil put them on.
A few minutes later, Mr Churms came in.
"Are you ready?"
Roger replied, "Yes, sir."
Mr Churms said, "Are you ready, Mr Lovell?"
"Yes, Headmaster. I've already left a couple of canes in there. It's rare that one breaks but it's better to be prepared."
The Headmaster turned to Roger again. "I've asked Mr Lovell to deal with you. As an athletic man, he can get more power than I can and so we can get it over more quickly for you."
The gym master said, "Come with me."
Roger followed him with Basil and the Headmaster completing the procession. They went into the gym. At the door, Mr Lovell stopped and said, "I've put some mats down so that you can get across without your shoes damaging the floor, Headmaster."
"Thank you, Mr Lovell. I take it that you're reminding me to keep off the floor."
"It is expensive, Headmaster, and you made the rule when it was opened. You complained how much the floor had cost."
They went across to a set of parallel bars set at right angles to the wall. The gym master turned to Basil and asked, "Have you explained how we do things, Chapman?"
"No, sir. I didn't know that it would be in here."
"Very well. Livingstone, select the space which is near the height of the top of your legs and put your body through. Go as far as you can and then bend right over, reaching the lowest bar you can. Hold onto that as firmly as you can."
Roger worked out what was required. Soon, he was securely supported by the bars and unable to escape except by loosing his grip and actually deliberately getting out.
Mr Lovell said, "It's got to be fairly severe, Chapman. Stand by to give him a hand if he needs it."
"Yes, sir."
From his position, bent over like that, Roger could see the gym master taking up his position. The cane did not touch his seat, but Roger assumed that he was aiming. Then he could see the weapon go back and was aware that the gym master was winding his whole body like a vast clockwork spring. The spring was released and almost every muscle in his body was involved in the co-ordinated movement, more powerful than the best tennis forehand smash because the target was stationary. The cane struck.
THWHACK!
Roger could not help it. A cry was forced from his lips as it felt that the torrent of pain overwhelmed every intention of self control and his head bounced back. The only consolation was that, rather than finding himself loosing his grip on the bar that held him there, that grip was instinctively tightened.
Mr Lovell knew what was required, but he was a compassionate man and not a sadist. Roger had to be punished and it had to be severe, but it did not have to be torture and he should have the opportunity to retain his dignity. He waited until he was sure that he was under control before preparing for the second stroke. He went through the same routine.
THWHACK!
It fell parallel to the previous one and about half an inch below. As Roger again struggled to avoid shouting out, Mr Lovell said, "I apologise, Livingstone. It's easier to manage when you know where the goal posts are. Unless the Headmaster overrules me and says you've had enough before then, I'm intending to give you a round dozen. It will seem a long way off at the moment, but it will be finished. To save your counting, and keep a check that I don't go too far, Chapman will count for you."
That speech provided a longer recovery pause. Now Roger was waiting for the next stroke.
THWHACK!
It arrived, driving into the lower part of his buttocks, just at the top of his legs. Basil said, "That's three."
Again, as the pain surged through his body, Roger was unable to suppress a gasp. Another generous recovery gap followed and then, THWHACK!
Roger heard "That's four." He was beginning to wonder whether he could see it through but was determined that he would. He knew that Mr Lovell was being very fair. He knew, too, that he had asked for it and agreed to it.
THWHACK!
"That's five."
THWHACK!
As Roger absorbed the full impact of the next stroke, he heard Basil say, "That's six. Well done. You're half way through, Roger."
Roger longed to be able to escape but he knew that he could not. He longed to be able to hold his bruised backside, but that would have to wait. Now, his task was to hold on and to try to get through with no more than verbal support from Basil. Bent over so far did mean that he did not have to be taken by surprise by a stroke arriving. He could see the Mr Lovell's movements. Now he knew that the next stroke was on its way.
THWHACK!
"Seven. Only five to go."
Another surge of pain shot through Roger's body. This time it emanated from a new line, well up on his buttocks. While he could not see, he thought it likely that he would have a series of parallel lines decorating his seat and he was surprised that he could start thinking like that in these circumstances.
THWHACK! As Roger tightened his grip on the bar again, he heard Basil say, "That's eight. Only four left now." Another pause followed before Roger saw the warning movements.
THWHACK! Basil reported, "Nine. Only three left. That's three quarters of the way through."
Roger was now hoping that he could see it though. His rump was painful and even a man with Mr Lovell's skill would be unlikely to avoid striking untouched areas after so many. Once again, Roger braced himself.
THWHACK! He heard Basil's report. "Ten. Only two now. You're doing really great, Roger." He waited for the next. It was now critical. He had got this far without Basil's active intervention. He wanted to complete the challenge.
THWHACK! "Eleven. Only one left now."
Roger saw himself now with a final challenge. He was going to avoid crying out or loosing on this final stroke. He wanted to stay in place until he was told he could move. It would be too easy to relax and blow it at the last fence. Then it arrived.
THWHACK! "Bloody well done, Roger. That's the twelve."
Mr Lovell said, "That's it, Livingstone. You can come out, now."
Roger eased himself out, grasped his seat and gently massaged it. He turned to Mr Lovell and said, "Thank you, sir." He looked round for the headmaster, saw him and said, "Thank you for arranging that, sir."
The headmaster said, "That's the worst part and Chapman can tell your tutor that you've been punished. However, there is a second stage. It's nothing like as bad but it is important. Chapman knows when I'll want you and he'll bring you. Now, you can get changed and Chapman can take you back. You'll want a break after that."
Basil said, "Come on, Roger. Get changed again."
As they went out, he turned to Mr Lovell and said, "Are you coming to make sure we don't make a mess in your changing rooms, sir?"
"I'd better, if the Headmaster will excuse me."
"Certainly. I know how careful you are about your empire."
In the changing room Basil said, "I thought you might want to see how well you'd done it, sir."
"I thought that was what you were up to."
Basil said, "You don't mind, do you, Roger?"
Roger replied, "Not at all. Actually, I didn't know what to expect but, if I hadn't been told to bring my gym kit, I wouldn't have been surprised if I'd had to have it bare."
He slipped his shorts off and turned his back to the gym master. He asked, "Is there a mirror anywhere, so that I can see it?"
Basil said, "Just round the corner. There's a full length one. At least there used to be."
Mr Lovell said, "It's still there."
Roger admired the damage, rubbed it again and started to get dressed.
Basil sat down and took his borrowed footwear off. He said, "You did it well, sir."
"It had to be, I'm afraid. It was serious."
"That wasn't what I meant. I've heard of people giving a whacking who have deliberately laid a set of really heavy stripes like you did tonight, sir and then put some others diagonally across. It often draws blood at every intersection. You gave him what was right, sir. I don't think it could have been much harder, but you haven't made him bleed."
Mr Lovell replied, "I hoped not to. I hope I'm a professional. I think a good thrashing is right, but it should be done properly. Deliberately drawing blood seems to me to be gratuitous violence and is inappropriate and unprofessional."
Roger was now nearly dressed and said, "I'm not an expert, sir, but I felt that. You gave me a chance to take it with dignity and I was grateful. If you hadn't given me that recovery time between each stroke, I think you could have got me losing control and letting go, but it wouldn't have hurt any more in the end and I wouldn't have been punished any more. I should think the boys you have to cane respect you for doing it like that and treating them like that."
"Most of them do."
Basil said, "While Roger finishes getting dressed, I wonder if I could have a private word with you, sir?"
"Yes, providing you aren't asking me to cane you as well."
"No fear, sir. Once was enough. I can still imagine those whacks."
They went away. Only a few minutes later Roger was lowering himself onto the passenger seat in Basil's car. When they got back, they went into Basil's flat and Basil's bedroom. There they both undressed. This time, it was not a cane that was at work!
To be continued.