This section is narrated by Downey, to give an idea of what the school was like from a pupils perspective.
My father has never hit me and at my last school beatings were very rare. I certainly never got one. In a way, Im sorry about that. If Id had even one whacking Id have been readier for what was going to happen when I arrived at Dartmoor College.
The very first day there was a group of us in the common room. We had nothing to do but sit around talking and it seemed that wed been doing that for ages. Someone produced, or found, a rugger ball and we started tossing it around from one to the other. Mr Starling walked past and saw what we were doing, opened the door and ordered us to stop.
About ten minutes later Pole wandered in, saw the ball and chucked it at Skinner. And before we knew it we were all chucking it around the room, just like before. Wed forgotten that wed been told not to.
Needless to say, Starling went past again and saw that we were disobeying him.
"Follow me!" he said grimly. He led us down the passage to his study and then we had to line up outside, facing the wall, hands on heads, and wait there till he could afford the time to, as he put it, deal with us. None of us dared speak, and I think we all knew what was going to happen – even me, who had never been whacked before.
When he came back we all had to go inside and line up in front of the bookcase. He went straight to the bottom drawer of the bureau and took out a cane. The sight of it made my throat go dry. And then he bent it into a semi-circle and I knew that my bottom was going to suffer.
"Direct and wilful disobedience. I wont stand for it. Is that clear?"
We all nodded.
"Any of you had the cane before?" I knew that some put their hands up. I only found out later that it was Pole, Shelley and Skinner. "You – " He pointed with the cane. "Come to the chair and bend over."
It was Pole. Mr Starling made him bend tight over the back of the armchair and then hauled his jacket up his back and tugged his shirt out of the back of his trousers. The cloth was smooth over his backside. I was kind of fascinated, having never seen anything like this before. Mr Starling took aim and stood back a step and then lashed the cane down with a sharp crack. I could see the faint line it left across Poles trousers. Pole didnt make a sound. Not even when there were five more.
He gave us all six. When it was my turn I bent over the chair like the others with my heart pounding. It hurt like mad, a kind of hot stinging pain in lines across my bottom. Of course, I know now that he was going easy on us because we were new boys and it was our first day. But at the time it was a sharp punishment. As soon as we got back to the common room we all pretended that it hadnt hurt at all and that we were the brave boys who werent afraid of getting the cane. We dropped our pants and showed off our stripes to each other and the other boys, who all treated us like heroes. I was quite sorry when the bruises disappeared about three days later.
Being punished together like that made sure that we would be friends. I was behind most of the others in experience of whackings, but that made no difference at all. Shelley claimed to have been caned on his bare bottom, but then, only three days after Mr Starling whacked us, I became the first victim of Mr Donnelly, the PT master.
The clothing list said that we had to have blue shorts for rugger and white for PT. My mother had been unable to find any white shorts for me. The only shop in our town had none in my size, father had used up all his petrol coupons for that week so wed been unable to go to the city. "Never mind," she said. "I dont suppose it will matter for a week or two if you wear the blue ones for PT."
Which shows how much mothers know about the way schools operate.
"What are those?" Madman demanded. We already knew his nickname – and how he had earned it.
"Please, sir," I said. "My mother couldnt get any white – "
I stopped as he held his hand up. "Youre surely not going to blame your dear mother for the state youre in, are you? What a low trick for a man to pull. Does the clothing list state WHITE shorts for PT?"
"Yes, sir."
"Those appear to be blue."
"Yes, sir."
"Get them off."
"But, sir ...."
"But what? Whats your name?"
"Downey, sir. Ive got nothing else on." I could see my pals grinning behind his back.
"We wont mind your disgusting nakedness, Downey. And maybe it will encourage you to find some white shorts for the next time you come to my gym. Oh, and in case youre worried about feeling the cold without your shorts on, I intend to give your backside a good warming dose of my strap. Say thank you."
"Thank you, sir," I said and was a bit consoled when the form all laughed.
They didnt laugh when he strapped me though. It was a short length of heavy leather, as thick as the sole of a shoe. He made me touch my toes and whacked me three times. It stung like fury and I hopped about rubbing myself when he let me up. The sting was as intense as the cane, but within ten minutes it had faded to no more than a warmth that filled my buttocks. It was almost pleasant. And I felt better about being naked about half way through the lesson when Skinner was also made to take his shorts off and bend over for three of the strap. By the end of the lesson, two more lads had joined us. Madmans name was certainly appropriate.
But it wasnt just Madman. Within a fortnight the whole form had been caned by masters and slippered by prefects. Whacking of one sort or another seemed to be the only punishment they used, apart from blacks which we didnt take much notice of. I didnt mind it too much. A whacking hurt terribly to begin with but the pain quickly faded and there was no lingering feeling of being punished like there was when I got detentions at my last school.
Lawford and Pole were the first in our form to be sent up to Duckering for blacks. They came back rubbing themselves and the state of their bottoms showed how much a slippering could hurt.
Shelley, Skinner and I were the first to be sent up to the old man. He caned us, but it wasnt as bad as some whackings Id already had, so it didnt bother me too much.
Ive been here nearly two years now. I get whacked once or twice a week. Sometimes you can go a whole week without a whacking of any sort. Other weeks are terrible and you get whacking after whacking. My record is four slipperings and two canings in a week. My dad made me promise I would tell him about my whackings. But there are too many.
Ive never been up to the porters before. Ive seen what boys arses look like after a whipping, and Im _s_h_i_t_ting myself. I know we deserve it really, but the waiting is terrible. I just wish he would hurry up and get it over. Im quite glad its the young one. He looks a decent enough chap.