I didnt see much of Dr. Woodside during the next few weeks. Once in while, if when crossing the parlor or sitting room when Miss Withers was busy applying the "baby tawse" as she used to call it, to young Erics flaming bottom, he would stop and watch for a few minutes, then nod and go about his business.
It wasnt that Miss Withers for overly severe with the boy. The tawse stung the boy quite painfully but beyond some deeply inflamed skin and a small purple bruise - caused only during the lengthier sessions - the boys behind was left in perfectly healthy condition.
It was not the same with me. It was almost a daily occurrence that Miss Withers would drag the boy into my study with the request that he be given a sound whipping. I had shown Miss Withers the canes and tawses I had brought with me and she usually suggested which of these implements I was to use for the particular offence the boy had committed. Mis Withers made it a point to remain and witness Erics punishment; I know she enjoyed seeing the boys bare buttocks being striped with the cane and I usually extended the time and increased the severity of a caning for her benefit. I did not check too closely on the reasons the governess thought punishment was deserved, I just administered it and made sure it was to Miss Withers satisfaction.
Of course I had the boy to myself during the three hours every morning and afternoon when I drummed the school lessons into his lazy rump. Eric cried and yelled during those salutary whippings but he learned to obey. His manners improved and his arrogance and impudence quickly melted away as he saw that his bottom was never long without vivid marks from my valued canes and irritated skin from Miss Withers tawsings.
Unfortunately for the youngster, his brain was not very quick and his memory quite deficient. It required regular floggings just to get him to memorise a poem with more than three stanzas. But that did not deter me. I punished the boy as I saw fit and Dr. Woodside appeared thoroughly pleased with the boys improvement.
This, then, slowly became routine and young Eric had resigned himself to his daily doses of cane and tawse, and of never having a pain-free backside. He always winced when sitting down despite our numerous admonishments to keep his feelings to himself and not make a spectacle of himself at mealtimes, particularly when we had company. About once a month Dr. Woodside would invite a number of his customers for an elegant dinner when the long dining table would be covered with the finest linens and the dishes would be Meissen porcelain. the cutlery silver, the goblets of finest crystal.
Eric hated these occasions because he would be dressed up in his finest and be admonished to be on his best behaviour. He would be supervised so closely that he lost all semblance of self-confidence and spilled or broke wine glasses, dripped the heavy silver fork or knife, spilled some soup on his fancy new white shirt, scalded his bare thighs with hot tea or soup.
I witnessed one of those dinners about a month after my arrival. There were only three couples, elderly people with the grown sons and daughters. The McNaughtons, Henry and Ruth with their son Ronald, aged 25 and their 22-year-old daughter Geraldine; and Edward and Betty Brown with their son Charles, 28.
The evening started humorously because the McNaughtons arrived early and were confronted with the spectacle of a very red-bottomed little boy across his governess lap getting a very sound application of the tawse.
The four guests, after having handed their coats and hats to the maid, had stood around watching as slap after slap rained down on the hot little backside.
"Why is he being spanked, Miss Withers," Ronald wanted to know, find this tableau extremely hilarious.
Without stopping, the governess simply replied, "Because he has been naughty, Mr. McNaughton. He had objections to wearing his good suit. I have to teach him to behave himself and do as he is told and throw a temper tantrum just because he doesnt like his shorts and shirt."
The spanking continued for several more minutes until at last the boy was pushed off the governess knees and stood upright. The shorts, to which he had objected, were around his ankles and the equally objectionable shirt was rolled up to his neck. At this point the second couple, Edward and Betty Brown arrived. Eric stood and gasped when he saw the visitors surrounding him from all sides inspecting his half-naked little body.
"Look at his face," Edward Brown said after the situation had been explained to him. "He looks just like a naughty little schoolboy fresh from the headmasters study." He gave a short laugh. It reminded him of his own school days when he had delighted in seeing other boys get their backside thrashed.
"Yes, but more to the point, look at his bottom," giggled young Geraldine. "Why, there isnt an inch of white skin left all over his backside."
"Yes, and did you have to spank him so hard, Miss Withers?" asked her mother, Ruth McNaughton. "He seems so young to get such a sound thrashing. Surely a few spanks less would have achieved the same results?"
Henry smiled. "You must excuse Ruth," he said. "She is very sensitive about corporal punishment. She thinks the present psychological approach is the best for dealing with children. We have had a number of arguments about this when Ron was a boy. Ruth always objected whenever Ronald had his behind spanked. But, as you can see, it didnt do him any harm."
"I have hired both Miss Withers and Mr. Harris to educate the boy in the traditional manner, with plenty of physical punishment and I fully approve of their methods," Dr. Woodside, who had been silent up to now, interjected.
"Eric, dont just stand there like a dim-witted calf . Get dressed."
I watched with amusement as the boys face, red and tear stained, grew even darker as he bent to retrieve his shorts. He lowered his shirt and tucked it into the shorts, then buttoned up and adjusted the braces. The guests now laughed and clapped.
"Oh, how cute. Look at the little black velvet suit."
"Yes, and that frilly white blouse. Just like a hundred years ago. That collar, those sleeves. Fantastic!"
"I love those big buttons down the sides of the shorts. Adorable."
"Well, the shorts are quite tight, arent they? And so very brief. The boy looks simply lovely."
"I see there are some serious weals high up across the backs of his thighs," Betty Brown remarked. "Was he caned as well? He seems too young to be caned so severely."
"Look, ladies and gentlemen," Dr. Woodside said forcefully to make an end to this nonsense, "Miss Withers and Mr. Harris know how to deal with boys such as Eric and if they think that dressing the boy the old-fashioned way, then I believe it will do the boy some good. It is only for special occasions, but when ordered to wear such clothes, he will do so and not argue and protest. As regards the canings, it was I who had to punish the boy last night. It was unfortunate, but necessary. His lessons do not progress satisfactorily unless they are caned well into him. Now, shall we go and have a drink before we start dinner?"
Miss Withers looked at him gratefully. People just didnt understand that sometimes boys had to do things they didnt like. If you allowed them to get away with such attitude, you are well on the way to a future criminal.
When we sat, I had Eric pour and serve the drinks. "You will not spill one drop," I said, slapping his bare thigh sharply a number of times to underscore the seriousness of my warning. "You will be polite and serve each guest the drink he or she ordered; if you make a mistake (here I slapped him a few more times and he started to whine annoyingly) you will feel the cane again, I promise you."
"Yes," Miss Withers confirmed, "I will keep an eye on you throughout the evening. If I see so much as a pout or a reluctance of any sort, I will deal with you as well. I insist on perfect behaviour tonight or you will be very sorry."
Dr. Woodside nodded. "Eric, I expect you to be at your best behaviour tonight," he said sternly. "Otherwise I will make sure you are properly dealt with."
By then we had managed to make the boy so nervous it was only minutes before he dropped a glass. A large, dark stain now decorated the light carpet. With a gasp, he darted looks at me and Miss Withers with a comical expression on his face. The guest all turned to stare at the boy, making him even more self-conscious. He broke into tears and when he heard the laughter around him, he cried even louder and ran from the room.
Miss Withers had to go and drag him back and the guests were presented with a second installment of the spectacle that had greeted them on their arrival. The little velvet shorts were suddenly around his ankles again and, as if by magic, the governess, tawse in hand, had him draped once more across her lap, red bottom upwards, head down. We all sipped our respective drinks as we watched the longest spanking any of them had probably ever witnessed. They just sat there, smiling or chuckling, except for Ruth McNaughton who frowned her disapproval but refrained from interfering.
Once the spanking was finally concluded to Miss Withers satisfaction, we all went into the dining room where the maid started serving. Young Eric, his shorts once more restored to their normal position, lowered himself carefully onto the only hard seat in the room and squeaked appreciatively when his tender buttocks flattened themselves against the wood. Then he dropped his fork and another anguished look followed, first at his governess, then at me. We scowled a warning. You will pay for this later, our gesture signaled him and tears once more started to flow, silently this time.
We made him pass the butter, pour some more water or wine or soda, ladle out the grave and - he dropped the ladle, spilling the dark sauce onto the spotless tablecloth. Eric looked as if he wanted to run out of the room once again, but controlled himself. The tears that had gradually dried, began to roll again. The presented such a pathetic picture that we all laughed out loud again.
"You will please cane the boy later, Mr, Harris," Miss Withers said to me. "The boy is really being impossible tonight."
"Oh, but you cant!" Ruth McNaughton exclaimed with horror. "The poor boy was just spanked, spanked twice as a matter of fact. This little accident should not warrant a caning. After all, he is only ten, isnt he?"
"Yes," I replied calmly, "he is ten years old and should know better. Mrs. McNaughton, I admire your soft heart and affection for this obtuse child, but nothing good will come out of my neglecting my duties towards the boy. Clumsiness such as he has displayed tonight cannot go unpunished. But I promise you, I will be lenient and you may assure yourself of that if you care to witness the caning. I will only give him 3 for the dropped fork and six for the stain on the rug. Nine strokes with a good cane will teach the child to pay more attention to his duties the next time. Eric, when the guest have retired to the parlor, you will clean up this mess and scrub the carpet until it is spotless."
We chatted and smoked while Eric worked vainly to remove the gravy spot. The carpet would have to go to the cleaners. But we kept him at it until I was ready to take him to my study. I invited the guest to accompany us and we marched in single file, except for Eric whose ear I was pulling sharply , to my study.
Those "cute, adorable" velvet shorts found their way around Erics ankles once again and I ordered the boy across the desk, bare bottom fully displayed to our audience. I selected a very serviceable cane, maybe 3 feet in length and a centimeter in diameter, and showed it to Dr. Woodsides guests.
"This is a normal school cane for junior boys about Erics age. They use them on boys as young as 7 or 8, so it will do no harm to a ten-year-old. Six of the best is the usual dose but anything more than a small infraction, deserves considerably more." I swished the cane through the air, close to Erics nose, and he let out a small cry. "Therefore, the nine I will administer is really the absolute minimum for the faults Eric committed tonight." I tapped the boys bare buttocks and Eric whimpered.
"Please stand back," I said and raised the cane. I held it there for a moment, then whipped it sharply across the lower buttocks so nicely propped up by the boys position.,
"One, sir, thank you, sir," the boy dutifully recited, but not before producing a high-pitched little shriek of pain.
I applied the second stroke almost on the same spot, a fraction lower, perhaps, and watched the weal widen and darken.
"Two sir, thank you, sir," came the gasped count and now the crying began. The boy really was quite annoying.
Numbers three, four and five followed with adequate pauses in between and the boy was bawling freely.
"I never realised how severely boys get caned at school," Geraldine commented, her eyes fixed on the naked, striped buttocks of the bending boy. "Is it anywhere near as hard as you do it?"
"It should be," Edward Brown said with conviction. "I believe the headmasters would administer the most severe canings, but Mr. Harris here is doing an excellent job. Just look at those weals. They are spaced almost perfectly down the lower half of the buttocks and a bit of the thighs."
"It is too bad that Eric had to be punished tonight with all of us being present," his wife added. "It must be very humiliating to be punished like this in front of these people."
Miss Withers nodded. "Yes, that is the point. The more shaming the punishment, the more effective. Mr. Harris, please give him the last three strokes, but make them felt, would you?"
Ruth McNaughton shook her head but I really laid it on. Each stroke was a beauty, applied with full force, all across the under-bum. Eric had a very hard time keeping count and at one point, when he cried out instead of counting, I had to give him two extra strokes. Those he got across the thighs and he felt them, all right. It was a very sorry little boy who now lay across the desk blubbering like a five-year-old, his bottom brick red and well marked.
"Get up," I ordered harshly. "You will stand in the corner, hands behind your head until I allow you to pull your shorts back up and join us. And stop that infernal noise."
We left the sobbing boy in his corner and went to have our after dinner brandy in peace.