This story comes from something I saw and heard several years ago when I visted my nephew at a cricket game at his prep school. The part after the introduction is fictional, as far as I know!
the INTRO
I noticed the slim blond boy as I walked toweard the other parents who had formed a circle around their sons prior to the game commencing. His hair, not as short as it should have been following school rules, was that bright blond colour which enables children possessing it to stand out in a crowd. I walked closer to the group. The next thing that caught my eye was that he was bent at 90 degress and the white cricket trousers he was wearing were tight so that each of his slim buttocks was seperated by the seam of the trousers pulled up between them. I then noticed that he was petting a large dog, that was the reason he was bending.
As I approached to within a few feet a man I took to be his father gave the boy's bottom a single slap. It was not a soft pat, nor a hard smack, something in between. The boy continued to fuss the dog, clearly used to the man's hand on that poart of his anatomy (I concluded....probably wrongly I thought at the time). I had no idea why the man had smacked the boy...perhaps it was an affectionate slap.
Later, I asked my nephew about the boy, looking as disinterested as I could. My nephew explained that Harry, that was the boy's name, was going on to the same school as my nephew but would attend as a day boy. I lokked forward to seeing more of the lad and decided to take my camera along to the next game of cricket.
It was the following summer when I accompanied my sister (she is divorced) to my nephew's open day. It was one of those typically English affairs where one stands around trying to look important and one is dressed in the sort of attire which one never wears at home.
I noticed Harry was playing with a football with my nephew and some other boys and saw his dad (sorry, father)look over diapprovingly. The next thing Harry was standing next to the man and I moved over to say hello. I was not that interested in the father but learned something that I will never forget.
I asked Harry's Harry if he was looking forward to bording and he replied 'I would, Sir, but I am going to be a boy for the first year''. How well spoken I thought and then his father explained.
'I like to have the boy at home so that I can keep a close watch on his studies, he requires a firm hand, if you know what I mean''.
The boy blushed and I had to say goodbye and find the nearest bathroom fast.
The STORY
Henry already had his two older twin sons at the school. They were in the lower sixth and Henry was looking forward to their school career ending and then he would be able to buy the boat he had always wanted. His wife had died when the boys were younger and he had managed to instill in both his sons that sense of hard work and discipline which only a good rattan could achieve.
Henry was pruoud of the twins, both tall good looking and destined to become joint Head of School next year. He often reflected to other, selected fathers , that he had felt rather like that old Headmaster who confessed in his auto biography that if the child charity services had any idea about what the canings administered in his study over the years, he would be in prison by now. In the last few years Henry had caned the twins less, now he punished for lack of A's in reports rather than for misbehaviour, as in earlier years.
Marrying Felicity and taking on young Harry had never been intended and he often wondered how he had managed to saddle himself whith yet another boy requiring an expensive education. Felicity was well worth the expense though and she made him feel young again.
Young Harry was rather a scamp but Henry did enjoy those private sessions in his large country home, usually when Felicity was at the apartment in town, when he could relive the enjoyment of a 12 year old bent across his soft leather chair, his tight white smooth buttocks straining and the air of fear in the room. Henry lined the old rattan up across the boys bottom for the usual 6 scorchers and follow them with a dozen sound whacks, all on the boys right buttock only with his favourite spanking slipper, before taking the crying and penitant boy for his bath. The boy would go to bad again with a bright red bootm, just as he did every Friday night. Henry would retire early, ready for the tutoring he would be giving the boy the next day. After all it was his duty to see that the boy passed into his new school.
Oh how Henry relished the chance to re live the days he had thought over following the death of his beloved first wife.
Harry had pleaded with his mother that he be treated like the other boys he knew at prep school and be allowed to board at his next school(that had earned him another thrashing in the study where Henry explianed that this was a matter for his new father to decide.
Harry stood, proudly noting that his athletic looking son was the best looking boy in the new school reception. A man went up to introduce himself. Henry noted that the tie was not an old school tie and smiled to himself. He could tell that the man was impressed by his handsome young son, standing so obediently at his side. He decided to answer the man's unasked question in the usual subtle way, after all he would only open up to the fellow if he was really interested.
Henry listened as the man spoke to Harry and then answered for his new son
''I like to have the boy at home so that I can keep a close watch on his studies, he needs a firm hand if you know what I mean''
The man replied
''yes , my nephew is the same, rather a handfull I am afraid''
Henry laughed as he noticed Harry blush '' I use a carrot and stick approach with this little fellow'' with some satisfaction Hentry noted the 12 year old boy blush a deeper red, and ruffled his son's hair, as if to exaggerate his good looks. ''But mainly just the stick'' he added and smiled at the man.
After the man had left them, Henry turned to Harry. ''Did I tell you that you could play with the football''
''No daddy'' Harry replied.
''Just you wait till we get back to the house young man'' Henry continued.
Harry did not sit comfortably in the back of the Bentley as they headed homewards. Soon his bottom would be stinging again.