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It was a long time ago that I discovered the availability of CP pictures on the internet. More recently I have sought to write stories that might account for those pictures. I am fully aware that many of them come from a completely different background. Indeed in some cases I was already aware of that setting so please don't complain if you feel I've taken liberties. I intended to.
If the reader would like a copy of the picture for any stories in my "Inspired By Pictures" series, please drop me an email with a request and statement of which picture you need and I will try to send it. Many came from the now defunct site which was run for a long time by Johnny in Holland. These are in bitmap form and so are of fair size. I have tried changing them but always succeed in losing some quality and so I will send them as they are.
Picture Name: 4strokes
Mr Vincent Prescott was a schoolmaster in an ordinary grammar school. He had never adjusted completely to the change to civilian life after the war in which he had served with distinction. His absence from the classroom for several years had resulted in his having to work hard to remind himself of the material he had to teach and he was still struggling in some areas. Now, in 1955, there was also the problem that some boys were pushing the limits in ways which he found difficult to cope with.
Victor Pratt was the worst offender. He was a member of the sixth form and a scientist. This was to the mutual disadvantage of Victor and Mr Prescott, for Mr Prescott taught Maths and Victor's science meant that his studying Maths was inevitable. He was very bright. Indeed, he was so bright that could see many of Mr Prescott's weaknesses and was able to play on them when he chose. For example, there had been times when Mr Prescott had been working through an example on the board and had come to a temporary halt. In these circumstances, Victor delighted in offering a suggestion of the way forward and he was almost invariably right.
The hostility between the two had been sealed when Victor had annoyed the master, saying something foolish simply to see him riled. Mr Prescott's reaction had been to say, "Pratt by name and prat by nature." Victor had had to live with that wisecrack for almost the whole of his time in the school from other boys and he was naturally upset when a master said the same thing to make him look small.
As for Mr Prescott, a man who had been conformist before the war and had enjoyed the regimentation and discipline of army life while he had served king and country, to have Victor arriving in school each morning with hair reaching below his jacket collar was a vision he found difficult to endure. Thus the scene was set for an inevitable confrontation and being inevitable, it finally occurred. Looking back on it afterwards, Victor had to admit that it had been largely his own fault. It had begun when he had been talking to a neighbour while the master attempted to teach. He was rebuked for that. Then he had interjected with the solution to a problem when Mr Prescott was waiting for another member of the class to answer.
That got another rebuke. This time the master said, "Pratt, you may think that you're the only one who matters and that you know it all but you're mistaken. Doubly mistaken. There are other people who matter and I was allowing another member of your group an opportunity to develop as well. In addition, this time you have managed to give him the chance to shine for you have got it wrong."
Victor was not going to be put down.
"Don't be stupid. I was right."
Mr Prescott took a deep breath and said, "Silence! I'll come to you in a minute. Freeman, can you now try to answer my question, please?"
To Victor's dismay, Freeman did that, clearly demonstrating that the master had been right and Victor wrong.
Mr Prescott said, "It seems that even Homer can nod. The great Pratt can be wrong."
Victor still failed to realise how close to the edge he was.
"I might have been wrong then but I'm not wrong as often as you are."
There was a gasp from some of the form. This was deliberate defiance - a gauntlet thrown down at the master's feet or even slapped across his face.
Mr Prescott replied, "I don't accept rudeness from any boy in this school, Pratt and that was deliberate rudeness. You may be in the sixth form but my cane can still be used on you. As a recognition of your seniority in the school however, I will give you the choice. Either you come forward here and now to accept any caning I choose to give you or you leave this lesson now with a note for the headmaster. Even you should be able to work out that, at least that will mean a far more serious beating than I can give you and, at worst, that beating could well be followed by expulsion."
Victor realised that he had stepped over the acceptable line. He rose to his feet and went to the front of the class. Recognising victory and not wishing to make matters worse by gloating, the master said, "The rest of you get on with the exercise we were working up to."
He went to the cupboard where his cane was kept. Victor knew what was required. He stood in front of the master and held his arm out sideways.
Mr Prescott said, "Come on, Pratt. The other hand. I don't want to stop you working."
Victor was grateful for this comment and replied, "I'm sorry, sir. It was a mistake because I was nervous."
He extended his left arm holding his hand palm upwards for the master's attention. He saw the cane rise and closed his eyes. He heard it rush through the air and felt it crash onto his hand. An agonising surge of pain rushed from the line of impact up his arm and seemed almost to overwhelm him.
Now he had the task of taking all that the master chose to give him and, at all costs, he had to avoid taking his hand back in front of his colleagues in the class. He opened his eyes and placed his arm back into the correct position. Again the cane was driven into his hand. He longed to place it under his armpit for comfort but that was impossible in the circumstances.
His hand had to remain for the subsequent strokes. He checked that it was right and waited. Once again, the cane rose and once again it slammed into him. It was sheer agony. Victor looked at his hand and saw the darker lines produced by the cane's arrival. He tried to consider the matter. Three had been the maximum in the classroom up to the third form. Above there it had been six. Victor did not see how he could expect to have less than six strokes in the circumstances. He had only received three so far.
Again he extended his arm and made sure his hand was flat.
Again the cane crashed into it.
Mr Prescott said, "I am not one of those people who believe that punishments necessarily have to rise with age. The embarrassment for you will have been greater than for a fourth former and I think you are intelligent enough to accept the lesson. Return to your place."
Victor recognised the olive branch. It was up to him to respond.
"Before I do, sir, now that I won't be suspected of doing so to reduce the punishment, may I apologise unreservedly for what I said. It was inexcusable and I am grateful for the generous way you have dealt with it."
Mr Prescott replied, "Perhaps this incident has cleared the air between us. Your right hand is still capable of shaking mine."
A handshake set the scene for a far happier classroom in the days ahead.