Supper that evening was a light-hearted affair with Janet chatting endlessly with her friend Sally. Occasionally they would whisper with such obvious glances at Brian than the boys face flushed a deep red. The Elmsfords talked quietly, ignoring the wriggling Brian completely.
Only Brian sat there, glum and unhappy, his caned behind uncomfortable on the hard chair. Thinking of what was now in store for him, made him lose his appetite. He picked at the potatoes with his fork and just taking occasional sips from his water glass. He opened and closed his long, bare thighs nervously, tugging at his tight shorts.
"Sit still, boy," his mother said, "and finish your meal. I dont want good food to go to waste. Look at Janet. She is almost finished. Stop squirming, I said!"
Sally looked over to the blushing young boy and laughed. "I guess hes not too anxious to finish. His little bottom is probably still tingling from that last caning he got. Janet told me all about it."
"More likely from todays caning," George Elmsford interjected. "I hear he was punished at school. This is another matter we have to discuss, my boy."
"But his bottom surely is too bruised by now to take another thrashing," Sally commented, hoping to get further into this most interesting topic. She was amused at the boys expression; she guessed the boy was not too interested in pursuing this matter over the dinner table.
"That is something I cant understand," Janet said. "Why would a boy, fresh from a sound caning, get into further mischief? Dont they learn? Dont they realise that their backsides will suffer again if they dont behave properly? Are all boys that stupid, or is it only this brother of mine?"
"Boys will be boys, as the cliché goes," Mrs. Elmsford said with a little smile. "The lesson has to be drummed into them again and again, hoping that eventually they will learn. I suppose a very sore little behind will keep a boy in line for a day or so, but they soon forget. The moment their backsides cease to be uppermost in their minds, they will revert to their original uncivilised selves. Then another thrashing is due. Its the only way with boys, I suppose." She gave a sigh of resignation. Boys could be such a bother.
"It seems they cant remember their lesson for even one day, to judge from Brians behaviour," his father said. "Well, we will just have to be extra severe with them. Make sure the lesson lasts a few days longer. I just hope the senior cane will accomplish that tonight."
Poor Brian kept wriggling and writhing. He wished the conversation would keep off his present plight. He was nervous enough without being constantly reminded of what his backside was going to suffer all too soon. He nibbled at his salad.
Mr. Elmsford put down his knife and fork, and looked straight at the red-faced boy. "I think Brian and I will now retire to my study. We can have the dessert later on, except for Brian, of course. He can watch from his corner as we enjoy that chocolate cake he likes so much. Isnt good for him, anyway. Lets go, Brian. I see you still havent finished your food, so that will be another item on the agenda." To the others he added, "This is going to take a while, so if you want to come along and watch the proceedings, please feel free. You girls seem to be particularly interested tonight so we will try to make it worth your while. Young Brian here is going to provide you with the after-dinner entertainment." He chuckled as he took Brians ear and dragged him roughly off his chair and out the door. Mrs. Elmsford shook her head and started to clear the table as the rest filed out.
When they reached the study, Brians ear was very red and seemed to have lengthened from the paternal pull. "Get in there," Elmsford snapped and gave the boy a sharp push into the large room.
"All right, girls, we will now demonstrate how misbehaving little boys are punished. Sally, do you want to do the honours?"
"Sure," Sally said. "What should I do?"
"First of all, sit in that chair. You, Brian, stand before her to attention. Hands behind your back, shoulders back, stomach in."
When that had been accomplished, Elmsford continued. "Now, Sally, please unbutton the braces and pull them down."
Brians face turned beet red. "Please, Dad, not -"
"Next, please unbuttons the flies," Elmsford continued, ignoring the boys pleading eyes.
With a big grin, Salle slowly undid the small shorts and then giggled when she saw the boy wore no pants. "Ooh, look at his little -" Brian took a step back, bending forward to hide himself from the girls mocking eyes.
"Get back this instant," Elmsford shouted, "and stay in position. Do you hear? You are not to move until I tell you. Sally, please take his shorts down all the way to his ankles."
Brian, with a little whimper, reluctantly obeyed. By then the shorts had slipped a bit but his sturdy thighs fit too tightly for the shorts to fall down by themselves. Sally had to push them to the knees before they dropped of their own accord.
Brian, utterly embarrassed, had tears in his eyes and even more ashamed at being seen crying and bare from the waist down in front of those girls
"Please, Dad, cant I -" he started once more but was interrupted.
"Sally, please bring the chair over here. Good. Now, Brian, if you know whats good for you, you will bend over the back and hold the front legs firmly. Spread your legs wider. You will stay in that position throughout your punishment or you will get extra strokes. You should be well aware of the requirements by now."
Brian positioned himself, presenting his bare buttocks to where the girls were now standing, watching expectantly.
"Gosh, look at those weals," Sally exclaimed when she had had a good look at the boys backside. "Were those given at school?"
"Answer her," his father snapped.
"Yes," came the mumbled reply.
"What a sight," Janet agreed. "I guess boys really get it as much at school as at home. Serves them right. Nasty little beasts."
Elmsford had meantime retrieved the senior cane from the stand by the door and was experimentally flicking it at the boys bare bottom.
"We have to deal with several misdemeanours," he said, whipping the cane softly against some of the bruises. "First there is the fight at school. Then we have the matter for which you were punished at school and finally at your behaviour tonight. I expect immediate obedience when you are due for discipline. I dont want arguments, excuses, pleadings. You were told to finish your food, I believe, but you ignored the order. How many strokes for each offence, would you suggest, Sally?"
"Well, considering the many welts already across his bottom, I would say three for each. A total of nine, I guess."
And you, Janet? How many?"
Janet looked at her bending brother. She had witnessed his canings many, many times and knew that a boys backside is much tougher than one usually expects, even small ones like her brothers. She also knew that her mother whipped Brian with the thick leather strap sometimes for more than ten minutes without doing any lasting damage to that round, firm behind. She had no sympathy for the boy and was fully convinced that he deserved sharp punishment for each of the stated offences.
"Four each," she finally decided. "Twelve in all. One dozen. Sounds just right."
The cane kept tapping the wealed buttocks. Finally, Elmsford agreed with his daughter. "Very well," he said, "a dozen it is. Brian, remember to count the way I have taught you. I want to hear the "please, sir" before the count and the "thank you, sir" after the count immediately following the stroke. No howling and screaming. If I hear a pause between the canes impact and your response, you will get the stroke over plus an extra stroke. I warn you to speak out loudly, in a clear voice, or there will be the same consequences."
Then the cane went into action. Elmsford caned with gusto, applying all of his considerable force to each stroke. The first cut landed right across the fold of the buttocks above the thigh and the boy screeched out "oooh, aah, one, sir, thank you, sir," in a strangled voice. It was not a good beginning.
"No, Brian. You didnt listen. I want to hear a clear count immediately after the stroke lands. That means no "oohs" or "aahs" before the count. Lets try that again. Now you have 14 strokes coming."
The second stroke landed across the upper thighs, the area where the school master had worked on earlier that day. The pain was so acute, Brian could not control a cry of anguish.
"Look, Brian," his father said impatiently, "at this rate we will never finish. Control yourself and count properly. Now you get two more for a total of 16. Are you going to obey or not?"
The cane lashed down mercilessly, again across the underside of the bruised buttocks. Brian choked on the words but brought them out clearly enough to satisfy his father.
The girls looked on, fascinated by the red lines that appeared and quickly turned purple. The boys buttocks jumped at each stroke and they could see the effort it cost him to get the words out quickly without first giving expression to the pain.
"You see, Sally," Elmsford said, swishing the cane sharply across the boys bottom, "boys will eventually learn to obey. All they need is severe treatment and no let-up. Let them get away with the slightest mistake, and they take advantage, getting out of control before you know it."
Another slasher across the lower buttocks drove the boys body up the chair back. A high-pitched cry of pain emerged from his tight-lipped mouth.
"Two extra," his father calmly announced. The total was now up to 18 strokes. So far they had reached the half-way mark.
When the cane bit into the upper thighs again, the boys left foot kicked out, then his knees clamped together as he twisted in pain. His father shook his head. Now he was really getting annoyed.
"Look, Brian, I have told you to retain your position throughout, and again you have disobeyed me. I think after the caning, I will ask your mother to give you a really good dose with the tawse. I am losing my patience with you and adding more and more cane strokes is going to keep us here all night."
"How many is he going to get now?" Sally wanted to know.
"I think you should start from the beginning, Dad," Sally advised. "He still had 9 strokes to come, then moved out of position. That should earn him three instead of two extra strokes. That makes a dozen. Just where we were at the beginning of his punishment. Dont you think so, Janet?"
Janet, her eyes on the naked, striped buttocks of the writhing boy, nodded. "Yes, I think you should give him another dozen." She licked her lips. The boy, now back in the correct position, moaned softly. His buttocks were swelling up and seemed to glow in a red-hot flame.
"Please, sir," he whimpered, "please no more. It hurts so."
Of course, the pathetic plea was ignored and the caning continued.
By now all the boys recalcitrance had been thrashed out of him. All of a sudden, the boy marshaled his common sense and decided to obey his fathers instructions. His body, limp from exhaustion, remained in position. His count was loud and well enunciated, refraining from the unnecessary screams and yells. Elmsford and the two girls now had before them a well-disciplined young child, no longer the nasty, disobedient little brat they had seen before the caning began. Yes, a cane did wonders for a boys behaviour. You just couldnt give up too soon. As long as you persevered, the boy will eventually fall into line and comport himself as he should.
And to reinforce the lesson, Mrs. Elmsford took the boy across her lap the next morning, before sending him off to school, and used the thick leather strap on the boys striped and bruised backside. She thrashed the boy until her arm grew weak and Brian was once more howling like a banshee. Then she hung the tawse back on its hook, pulled the boys shorts back into place and, with a sharp slap on that tender seat, sent him out the door on his way to school.
When the boy was out of sight, she turned, closed the door and picked up the receiver of the telephone. She asked for Brians teacher and when he was on the line, she explained what she wanted.
"It was necessary to punish Brian last night," she said, "but it is important that you dont go easy on him just because he has a few weals cross the backside. Make sure his homework is properly done and that his lessons are up to par. Do not neglect to punish any omissions or mistakes. You have our authorization to lower his shorts when needed. Thank you."
That day Brian was kept at his lessons with unusual rigour. The master seemed to complain about everything he did. The boy had difficulties walking and sitting, and the masters cane did not make it any easier.