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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: four strokes
Harry Gamble had made a mistake. It was his last day at school and he had successfully avoided the cane during the whole of his time there. Now, with 'O' levels and 'A levels completed and every hope that his grades would be good enough for him to gain a coveted university place, he was waiting outside the headmaster's study. With him was Mr Furness, the PE master.
Soon they were both inside. Mr Ramsey, the headmaster, looked up.
"Trouble?"
Mr Furness replied, "I'm afraid so, headmaster. Serious trouble. I found this idiot shinning down the drainpipe outside the masters' cloakroom. We went up there and I discovered that there were disparaging comments about certain masters chalked up on the wall and that offensive labels had been attached to the coats of those same masters."
Mr Ramsey looked towards Harry.
"And you were responsible?"
Harry nodded and said, "Yes, sir. I wouldn't lie to get out of trouble in any case, but my fingers had chalk dust on them when Mr Furness checked."
"What do you think you were playing at?"
"Do you really want me to tell you, sir?"
The headmaster's voice was raised. "Of course I want you to tell me. That was why I asked you."
Harry replied, "It was two useless masters, who taught me nothing all the time I was in their classes and both of them picked on me something awful as well. I just thought I'd get back at them a bit, sir."
"Do you want to tell me who these masters are?"
"Not especially, sir. It was just a private way of getting back a bit but it went wrong."
"I would still like to know, Gamble."
"Mr Wright and Mr Dykes, sir."
The headmaster replied, "You're about to leave and I think I can rely on your ability to keep quiet. They were two masters I inherited when I was appointed. I understand that they were emergency appointments when several masters were away fighting during the war. Sadly, they were not temporary appointments and so I use them in positions where they do as little damage as possible and try to dispense them out so that no form has an unfair share of them. However, I have a duty to ensure that even they are not subject to inappropriate treatment. What you have done is serious enough, under other circumstances, to consider your suspension or even expulsion. There would be little point in doing that for half an afternoon. It looks as though it has to be the cane. Do you agree?"
Harry replied, I'm afraid so, sir."
"However, Mr Furness has brought you straight here and no-one else is aware of what you have done."
Harry replied, "They might not know who did it, but the masters will know what's happened, sir. I didn't put the damage right."
The headmaster half smiled. "I don't think it will do that pair any harm to be reminded that they are not liked. It can stay and I know nothing about it officially. If Mr Furness agrees, however, I was going to suggest that your caning should also be unofficial."
Mr Furness said, "If you mean that it's not to go on his record, that doesn' t worry me."
"I meant more than that. So that no-one can work out who was responsible for the vandalism, I was going to suggest that Gamble should return later for the caning. Otherwise, he may be needing to explain where the bruises came from."
Mr Furness replied, "I'm happy with that and I'm sure that, if he gives his word, Gamble will turn up."
The headmaster turned his attention to Harry.
"It's clear that you have to be punished. You have an almost spotless record during your time with us and I really see no reason why your colleagues should be aware that you have blotted your copybook at this late stage."
Harry replied, "That's very good of you, sir. What time do you want me here?"
"Is six o'clock this evening convenient?"
Harry replied, "I'm not trying to be difficult, sir, but Dad arranged for the whole family to be out tonight."
"I'll be in school doing routine office work tomorrow. Can you get here then?"
"That's not problem at all, sir. Any time convenient for you and I'll be here."
"Very well. Ten o'clock in the morning. You'll have left school officially, of course, and it'll be holiday as well so wear something informal."
"Yes sir."
Thus it transpired that Harry was making his way back to school on the day after his holiday started. As Mr Furness had said, Harry could be trusted implicitly. He had given his word and he would be there. Inside the school, he went straight to the headmaster's study, knocked and entered. Immediately Mr Ramsey stood and said, "Close the door, this is private."
He crossed the room to a cupboard and took out a cane.
Harry said, "Do I bend over somewhere, sir?"
"Even at your age you don't. The governors have given strict instructions that the cane is to be applied to the offender's hand. It follows an incident with my predecessor when a boy reported for caning wearing football shorts under his trousers. He was told to remove his trousers and there was some subsequent unpleasantness with accusations of indecency which were totally disproved, of course. Nevertheless, to ensure that neither he nor any successor was placed in a similar situation, they introduced this rule."
"Can I ask if you'll do it to my left hand then please, sir? I want to do some writing and it might be difficult with bruises all over my hand."
"Of course. Usually I have to check which hand a boy writes with. Many who are caned are also looking for an excuse for poor work."
What Harry was unaware of was that his headmaster enjoyed caning boys and had longed for the opportunity to deal with the boy now before him. It was a better chance than he could have dreamed of. The boy was here voluntarily, he was no longer a member of the school and he was old enough for there to be no possibility of accusations of child cruelty. He has spent much of his waking time since the interview on the previous afternoon almost drooling over what was to come.
He said, "You will decide how many strokes you have. You hold out your hand in the position I will indicate. After each stroke you will be given about five seconds to restore it into the receiving position. If that is done successfully, you will receive four strokes but for each delay you impose or for any removal of your hand during a stroke, you will receive an extra one. Do you understand that?"
"Yes sir."
"Very well. Extend your arm, but with the elbow slightly bent and your hand at almost shoulder level. Your forearm in a slightly rising position with help you maintain your position."
Harry obeyed and prayed for the ability to take what was to come.
The headmaster took aim and then raised the cane. He was about to use the cane in a way he had always longed to but had never dared before. He had long felt that this boy was too big for his shoes. He brought it down with every ounce of power that he could muster leaving an immediate mark which ran from the heel of the boy's hand to almost then end of a finger.
Harry gasped in horror at the sheer agony of the blow. He had never been caned but he knew immediately that this was no ordinary caning. He realised that he was in competition with his headmaster and he was determined that the headmaster would not win. His hand had been knocked down by the force of the blow. He forced it up again made sure that it was straight and horizontal and waited.
Once again the weapon was raised and once again it descending with an almost bone breaking power. He longed to place his hand in his armpit and hold it for comfort but he dare not. He was determined that he would receive no more than the basic four strokes. He made himself force his arm and hand into place again and watched the cane rise. He saw the two bruises on his hand, both turning purple. He saw the blur through the air as the cane fell a third time. Again he gasped as the pain surged through his hand and up his arm, almost overwhelming his body.
For the fourth time Harry forced his hand back into place. For the fourth time the cane was raised. This time Harry glanced at the headmaster's face. There was intense concentration there as he took careful aim and inserted every ounce of power that he could into the cane's operation. Harry was also aware of a deep seated pleasure in those eyes. The man was enjoying dishing out this punishment. Harry now knew that he had only to keep his hand in place for one more blow to fall and that pleasure would be over.
The headmaster was also aware of this. He had not expected Harry to maintain his position for all the strokes and would have taken intense pleasure in increasing the allocation. He was now regretting telling him that it was to be four strokes. He raised his cane again and once again crashed it into the outstretched hand. Once again, Harry stoically keep his hand in place for the blow. Once it was complete he took his hand down and looked at the damage.
Mr Ramsey said, "I didn't tell you to take your hand down. That will be two more strokes."
Harry replied, "With the greatest respect, sir, it won't. You told me to hold my hand out for four strokes. I did. The punishment is complete. Just one other thing, sir. I've seen the hands of boys who have been caned quite often. They've never had bruises like this. I gave my word that I would return for the caning and I kept my word. You didn't behave with the same integrity. You took advantage of me."
With that he walked to the door, turned and said, "Don't worry though. I can 't be bothered to do what I probably ought to do and go to the police to report you for causing grievous bodily harm. You aren't worth the effort."
With that he walked out, closed the door on the stunned headmaster and only then did he place his bruised hand under his armpit. He had not been prepared to give Mr Ramsey the pleasure of seeing him trying to ease the pain.