Authors note
This is the third section of "Oppression".
Two theories have been advanced to me as to why apostrophes are being stripped from this magnum opus. The first, mundane, explanation is that it is something to do with "smart quotes" being turned on somewhere. I have checked options in Mozilla and at www. hush. com but found nothing to turn off or otherwise fiddle with. The second, more likely, explanation is that Smith has taken on a life of his own, independently of the author, and is maliciously manipulating the text. Indeed, I am becoming convinced that this is true. Not only is he altering the typographic layout but also he is subtly dictating the content. This story has literally taken on a life of its own and I am becoming powerless to direct it. My role, increasingly, is merely to turn the raw narrative into prose and occasionally, when I am allowed, to add a few touches of my own. Presumably Smith likes these refinements else they would not be there.
At present I am amused to see where Smith will take this. If push should come to shove I am ultimately much more strong willed than Smith and can pull the plug at any time. However, though that might deny Smith the opportunity of infesting the Archive it would not abort the story. The story, an entirety not yet fully revealed to me, has Platonic existence. It has a driving internal logic that ensures that the whole emanates from just the first sentence. In that sense, this story has become just as real as any reality you are familiar with.
Be warned reader, though I as author outrank you and Smith, my control of Smith is limited. Smith will never outrank me but he might be able to take control of you. The consequences could be dire.
Pettigrew
When the door was closed Smith said "Petreson, empty out your jacket pockets."
Smith then pretended to examine the contents thoroughly. He said "Now take off your jacket and hand it to me." Smith made a great show of feeling the lining of the jacket for any hidden objects.
"Now empty your trouser pockets."
Johann did so, imagining that would be the end of the matter.
After glancing at the contents Smith ordered Johann to take off his shoes. Johann did so puzzled and then Smith made play of studiously examining the insides of the shoes and checking that the heels were what they appeared to be and didnt have hidden compartments.
Next Johann socks came off and he was ordered to turn them inside out.
Johann was startled when instructed to remove his trousers but reluctantly obeyed without comment. These were examined.
"Now your shirt Petreson."
Johann was hoping this was not leading where he feared. But he supposed to himself that Smith had to go through his main garments in case he had cunningly secreted cigarettes away.
Next his shirt came off and that was thoroughly examined, especially along the hem.
Finally his vest which he was made to turn inside out.
Johann was standing in front of Smith dressed only in his underpants. He flushed with slight embarrassment but recollected that he had often been among others dressed only in gym shorts or bathers.
Smith stared at Johan for a while and then ordered "Now your underpants Petreson."
Johann flushed deeply and said "But Smith?"
Smith replied "There are many ways a cunning person can secrete items about their body."
"But under my underpants?" queried Johann vaguely disgusted that anyone would want to keep items there.
"Off!" barked Smith. Down the underpants game and Johann stepped out of them.
"Hands on head!"
Johann was thoroughly flushed now. Smith ordered him to turn around and then back. Smith liked what he saw: the well formed young body with milky white skin and golden hair both above and below.
Smith made a show of checking through Johanns head hair, behind his ears and under is arms.
Then he made Johann stand before him with his legs apart. He slowly and meticulously groped every inch within Johanns crotch. Johann desperately wanted to squirm but dared not. His penis began to stir a bit, not very noticeably but Smith obviously caught onto it, and Johann felt very ashamed. Johanns testicles shot upwards within his scrotum as Smiths cool hand fondled them.
The next humiliation was to turn round and bend with his legs far apart.
Smith admired the firm white bottom and looked forward to beating it in the very near future. It was clear of blemishes apart from some fading bruises from Johanns paddling and strapping last Friday and some distinct cane marks, again bruises rather than lacerations.
After an extended period of gazing, during which Johann became yet more agitated, embarrassed and generally humiliated (if that were possible), Smith ran both his hands slowly over Johanns firm smooth bottom as if trying to detect cigarettes cloaked in invisibility cream. His hands extended inwards between Johanns thighs and then fingers from each hand swept in a circle about an inch from Johanns anus. Smith was fastidious and didnt want to approach closer though he knew to do so would torment Petreson yet more. At that moment Smith had the inspiration of sometime seeking out a pair of rubber gloves from the kitchens so that he could add the final touch to this torment.
Smiths actions were not particularly _s_e_x_ually motivated. His pleasure came from the humiliation, the intense shame, that he knew they would invoke in his victim. With respect to _s_e_x_ Smith looked forward to the day when he could explore a young womans body and satiate his desire (probably with some violence involved too). Unfortunately girls were not an available feature at public schools. In recent weeks Smiths mind had been turning to the notion that in the meantime taking a smooth youth might be a more than acceptable substitute. Also the act of taking one forced by intangible fear, rather than the physical strength of his oppressor, to submit would be the ultimate torment. Now his mind turned to Petreson as a highly desirable candidate in this respect. However, Smith was not yet ready to chance his arm at this highly risky venture. It might just be too much, the straw that breaks the camels back, and Petreson might blab and be believed. No, Smith would bide his time until Petreson and some other boys (his thoughts dwelt on Atkins and Drumond in particular, but there were others in the frame too) were his totally abject slaves and would never believe that they could ever best Smith. Smith thought of the small dorm next door: the potentate with his harem.
That night the central characters of this drama were abed in various states of torpor or agitation.
Dr de Villes agitation was merely sybaritic. He was lying on the bed next to Mary, his wife, with the school cat stretched out purring on his chest. The good doctor was asleep but his right hand, in some reflex fashion, kept caressing the pussy cat. In his dreams he was thinking of fish pie, enormous fish pies and all his. Coincidentally, the cat in her frenzy of _s_e_x_ual excitement (for why else do cats purr?) was, oddly even for cats, also thinking of fish pie.
Smith, though excited after his humiliation of Petreson, had fallen asleep immediately that night. He dreamt of a naked Petreson running before him. Petresons pale bottom wobbled up and down in a charming fashion, like a firm jelly, as his legs carried him forward. Smith was chasing Petreson and every so often Petreson would look back with a beautiful smile aimed at his pursuer. Petreson slowed and looked round again. Yet however hard Smith ran he could not catch up with the object of his infatuation.
Melrose was tossing and turning in an agitated half-sleep. The humiliation of the day before had not diminished. He kept recalling how Smith had half lowered his underpants, the embarrassment of standing half exposed, the torment of the unpredictable whacking. Yet every so often in these chaotic dreams Smiths smiling face would appear before his like that of a god to be worshipped.
Thorpe, a rather more prosaic soul, was sound asleep dreaming of being locked in the tuck shop over night.
Johanns dreams were profoundly disturbed; that charlatan Freud would have linked their content to no end of mythological characters and, no doubt, written a book based on the premise that all boys desire to have a dominant elder brother and when there is no such they fantasize one from among those with whom they come in contact.
In one of those dream states that most people associate with the consequences of mild food poisoning Johann was drifting through a bizarre reality. He remembered with horror his encounter with Dr de Villes horse and the preceding humiliation of being rendered naked. The horse took on the appearance of a real equine. He remembered bending over the horse as if _s_e_x_ually embracing it. He remembered the sting of the cane. The cane turned into a hissing viper swinging from Dr de Villes arm. The bite of its fangs was agony. He looked back and saw that it was not Dr de Ville swinging the viper but Smith with his winning smile. Suddenly he was standing naked before Smith. Smiths hand reached out and grasped his penis. He liked it and his penis swelled enormously. Smith caressed his balls and he liked it. Yet he did not. Then he was bent over, utterly exposed and at Smiths mercy. Smiths fingers circled his most intimate part: he hated it, yet he liked it. He hated the brother he never had, the brother he so much wanted. The brother who was here for him now.
Hetherington was spending his first night back in his dorm. He was lying prone. The agony in his bottom had progressed to an ache and finally to nothing at all unless it was in contact with something. To lie or sit on his bum was still very painful. Indeed, even lying prone, contact with his pyjama bottom was unpleasant. Therefore he was lying naked from the waist down and his bed sheet was very loosely on him, all blankets discarded.
He could not get to proper sleep. The events of recent days kept wheeling through his mind. Running down the street, accidentally knocking the woman, swearing – God knows why – and continuing without regard for the womans wellbeing. He knew he deserved to be punished. When he had reported to Dr de Ville last Friday he had expected a sound thrashing. He feared the horse, and all to do with it, greatly. His fevered mind recollected the lump of ice that formed in his stomach, that almost instantly thereafter engulfed his whole being, when Dr de Ville had announced his sentence.
He recollected sitting in assembly knowing that his fate would be announced yet begging God that it was all a dream. "Please God," he had prayed, "make it not be true."
But true it was. Dr de Ville had stated Hetheringtons sins in detail, had reiterated the sentence, and had announced when it would take place.
After assembly he had been drawn aside by Wilkins, the Head Boy. Wilkins had not gloated, he patiently explained what Hetherington had to do. "Look here," he said "skip prep and half an hour before prep ends have a thorough shower and get into clean gym kit. Stand outside my study with your hands on your head five minutes before end of prep bell is due to sound."
Hetherington recalled having done as bidden. He recalled his distaste at being confronted by Smith. He had always loathed Smith. He knew not why but there was something, something deeply unsettling, about Smith that he could not quite identify. When Smith had ordered him to run at the double toward his fate he had wanted to punch the bastard in the face. He had barely restrained himself, yet one day perhaps.
Hetheringtons fevered mind recalled arriving at the door to the stage, Wilkins kindness in letting him regain his breath, and, then, entry on to the stage. Much of what followed was a haze. He recalled Wilkins telling him to take it one step at a time and just to do as instructed. He remembered that on entering the stage there was absolute silence and a sea of faces before him each gazing at him.
He recollected that Dr de Ville had said some stern words. He remembered taking off his shirt and handing it to Wilkins. Then there was the intense embarrassment of taking down his shorts and handing them too to Wilkins. He was standing naked before the entire assembly. To his even more intense embarrassment he recalled that something about the occasion had caused his penis to stiffen and rise. It had not risen more than a few degrees but it must have been obvious to everyone. He had desperately wanted to cover his crotch with his hands but somehow he had remembered to place them on his head without being instructed so to do.
Then he had been ordered to get into position. He had turned to his right and been mildly surprised that the dreaded horse was not before him. In retrospect he realised that the horse was too unwieldy to drag from place to place. Instead there was a solid wooden flogging stool, he had seen it once before. He walked to stand in front of it. The Deputy Head Boy and another prefect went to stand on either side of him.
Dr de Ville had delegated the rest of the proceedings to his deputy, Mr Townsend. This delegation, not that Hetherington knew, was for two reasons. First, Dr de Ville was not the least bit happy about his shoulder. Second, those with real power dont do the physical work: they delegate. That was also the reason why the Head Boy was standing in front of the door rather than taking part in the restraining party.
Hetherington, in his feverish attempts to sleep, recalled that Mr Townsend had ordered him to kneel on the front end of the block. The solid wooden block was shaped such that it was impossible to kneel on it without ones legs being far apart. Hetherington was then ordered to bend forward and grasp a bar at the front. The two prefects then walked forward and gently, yet firmly, held Hetheringtons shoulders in place.
To Hetherington it had seemed an age before anything happened, yet it was only twenty seconds. He heard shuffling behind him, then, suddenly, a swish followed by a thump that seemed to have nothing to do with him. Yet an instant later a fire broke out on his left buttock. Hetheringtons current semi-dream state had only a tenuous connection to what had really happened. On the one hand it had been a steady stream of whacks raining down ever more painfully from the paddle while on the other hand the entire process was an unreal experience in which the interval between each blow was an infinity in which entire universes could be born, flower, and die.
Though Hetherington was lying in his bed hovering between wakefulness and nightmare his recollection of what happened next was accurate. Indeed, the following recollections had to be as they were literally embedded in his buttocks; perhaps there is such a thing as muscular, superficial fat and skin memory.
He remembered the awful paddling stop. It had stopped of its own accord; not because he had on several occasions begged it to stop. After a brief interval during which he felt the pain lessen in acuteness yet extend and deepen in his bottom he was helped to his feet. He had briefly wondered if Dr de Ville had decided that he had received enough. He was standing supported by the two prefects. His hands had immediately gone to his throbbing bottom and nobody had the heart to order him to place them on his head. For what seemed an age he heard shuffling noises and whispering behind him. The audience below was absolutely silent with all eyes on Hetherington.
Eventually the two prefects directed him back into position and resumed their grip on his shoulders, more firmly than before.
Absolute silence for an almost unbearable interval. Then what sounded like a hop and a skip, a very loud swish, and .... microseconds .... eternity .... a flashing agony that started across both his buttocks but which then engulfed his whole being. He wanted to scream but managed to merely yell instead. A gasp arose from the audience. The second stroke was no kinder and his yell was more like a scream. He was agitated and desperately no longer wanted to be where he was. He wanted to be up and away. He wanted to escape this hell. It was an animal reaction to intense pain – too flee. With all his strength he tried to rise up. The prefects restraining him were taken by surprise. He managed to rise a quarter way to standing and in doing so twisted his body from right to left so that he was almost facing behind him.
The birch was already swinging with Mr Townsends full strength behind it toward where his bottom had been. There was nothing that Mr Townsend could do: his eyes might have registered the change but it takes time for neural impulses to travel, be processed by the brain, and to alter the motor impulses of arm muscles. The birch struck accurately where it was originally intended but the target was different. The birch rods and their attached twigs no longer connected, as desired, equally across Hetheringtons buttocks. They struck him forcefully on the left buttock and twisted round into his groin.
Hetherington felt the explosive blow on his left buttock. He felt his front left thigh, and inner left thigh being hit. He felt his lower abdomen being struck. He felt his penis being struck. He felt the blow on his left testicle too. He screamed; from the force of the blow he was knocked back down into position. Yet that initial scream was only the beginning of a much bigger scream. To the audience it sounded as though he had screamed, caught his breathe, and continued to scream. Hetherington knew better, even now in his tortured attempt to slumber. The blow to his testicle had been hard. It is a visceral pain only a male can comprehend. It is a pain that produces agony that goes to the depths of the soul. It is a pain that reaches its crescendo rather more slowly than a vicious blow to ordinary skin. The scream Hetherington gave would have been vastly bigger if he had managed to catch his breath. Everything thereafter had concatenated in Hetheringtons memory into a continuous blur of agony.
During the coming weeks from near half-term to the Christmas holiday matters went swimmingly for Smith.
He started out by making the lives of Atkins, Drummond and Petreson tough. They were given no unsupervised free time. Even on Saturday (if there was no intercollegiate match on) and Sunday (when all the shops, tea houses and other entertainments were shut anyway) afternoons the three youths had to accompany Smith when he went into town. He wasnt a total tyrant though, not all the time. On these outings he found things for them to do that all enjoyed and bought tea and crumpets for his entire party when in town. He even took them to the cinema on a couple of occasions (films that Dr de Ville had posted on the school notice board as suitable for his boys and therefore permitted). Indeed, weekend afternoons became quite enjoyable for all of them. During the rest of the week it was a different story. All three youths were beaten at the slightest pretext. Smith had acquired a whippy cane, above a junior but less vicious than the senior, which on the bare bottom left florid marks but had little chance of cutting; Smith didnt want physical evidence of his undue severity. He also found a large wooden spoon in the kitchens that had many of the fearsome properties of Dr de Villes largest paddle. Also, to his joy, Smith had found an excellent thin whip like the one he had used on Drummond in Dr de Villes punishment room; now all three had a taste of it, for Smiths delight.
The searches were going well too. All three were subject to them but Johann mostly. Sometimes Johann would be escorted by Smith to his study three or four times in a day for a humiliating search but most were perfunctory compared to the first one; that is Smith didnt bother examining Johanns clothes in detail but he always searched for cigarettes and matches, cloaked by invisibility, on Johanns skin.
Also, due to Smiths devious plan of general severity mitigated by pleasant interludes all three youths were beginning to accept their fate as being normal and becoming increasingly compliant to Smiths wishes. There was a camaraderie among the three youths and Smith too was beginning to be seen as a rather strict elder brother rather than as merely tyrannical and sadistic. Smith was their only other company when not engaged in the classroom and other necessary school activities; more and more they craved his smile and good opinion of them; ever more did they seek to please him and thus be rewarded by his winning smile.
Smiths sphere of malign influence was extending too. At first he used his power over Melrose and Thorpe to abuse them. Gradually he realised they could be of greater use to him. He set them to informing on other boys and rewarded them with fewer beatings and humiliations, and with favours too. Gradually those whom Melrose and Thorpe had grudges against were turned in. The duo were sometimes rewarded by being present at the entrapped boys punishments and, as a special treat, invited to contribute to them.
Smiths collection of signed confessions (all destroyed of course) enlarged.
To be continued