I had heard that there was a new boy starting school today, name of Adam, and that he would be joining my class for Geography. Other than that I knew little about him.
It was apparent when the class came into the room who he was and I was impressed by how smartly he was turned out, always a good move with me. He was quiet but well behaved and did his work without any problem.
The next day I was disappointed to see that his shirt was untucked when he arrived for class - something that is not allowed - and I explained that this was the case and not to let it happen again. He tucked it in promptly and was apologetic in his response but something made me suspect that it wasn't a purely accidental event.
I thought no more of the incident until the lesson on Friday afternoon, for which I arrived slightly late. (Friday is my duty day and there were sevral boys requiring punishment at the end of the lunch break). I immediately observed the shirt again untucked and noticed that there was no apparent awareness of this on Adam's part.
I pointed at him: "Stand up, Adam!"
He stood promptly but without any sign of concern and still no awareness of his shirt - other boys would have been hurriedly trying to correct the situation.
"I told you last lesson that your shirt is to remain tucked in at all times. See me after class."
"Yes, sir" he responded as he addressed the matter of the shirt, but still without any undue concern. He sat down and we continued the lesson without fuss.
At the end of the lesson the class dismissed and, as I tidied my own books, Adam appeared by my side.
"You wanted to see me, sir?" The comment was rather too polite and slightly casual for my liking, but the ball was in my court now.
" I certainly did, young man; follow me!"
So saying I marched off out of the room with the young man in tow. I proceeded downstairs to my office (I am the deputy headmaster of the school) and walked straight in.
"Close the door and stand infront of the desk."
I put my things on a side table and turned to find the boy standing smartly in front of me, hands by his side. I now noticed that he was not just smartly turned out but a decent build for a 14 15 year-old, probably a footballer.
"I explained to you last lesson that shirts were to remain tucked in and today yours was not. What do you have to say for yourself?"
"Sorry, sir, I forgot. It won't happen again." Too smug, too unafraid for my liking.
"Too right it won't, young man. It's my job to see that it doesn't!"
So saying I went to a strong wooden chair that stood by the wall - retained of course for such purposes as it was about to be used for - and pulled it into the room. I then walked to the bookcase which stood inside the door and unhooked my favourite cane. I walked back to the boy who was casually watching my movements. I pointed to the chair with the cane and instructed him to stand in front of the chair and place his hands on the seat. He did this without hesitation and I regsitered that he got himself into exactly the position I required: this boy was no newcomer to corporal punishment.
Adam was now bent over with his hands on the edge of the chair seat, gripping firmly. His feet were comfortably apart to support himself and his whole stance looked very solid indeed.
I flesed my cane and surveyed the scene. I say that it is my favourite cane, and it is. When a new delivery of classroom canes was received last year I went through carefully - canes always vary - and of the three dozen ordered selected this one for myself. It is what I think of as 'soft' cane, extremely flexible but with a strong element of spring and a weighty business end. It also looks and sounds the part, being slightly thicker than the rest of the consignment.
I lined the cane up with the waiting backside and again noticed what excellent shape the young man was in, with trousers tightly stretched across muscular young buttocks. My first headmaster had taught me the secret of effective caning - not by force or run-ups, but by bringing the cane down while it is being raised. "Always start the stroke with the cane on target", he would say. This cane certainly stung with this technique and was very effective in providing single warning strokes for very minor offences. By delivering the stroke with great speed, the cane could be made to bite hard into its target and so I found it just as effective for six-of-the-bests awarded to boys who should know better.
I tapped the cane firmly against the waiting buttocks twice (with me, these taps are almost gentle strokes), raised it and
THWACK!
That was a good start - right on target. he should now know that I do this properly. I expect boys to remain in position and take their punishment in silence, but I was surprised that this is exactly what he did. there was no response at all.
I lined it up again. He not only had been improperly dressed, but had done so after instructions to the contrary. That meant disobedience and another straoke was required in my book.
tap...tap..raise it high and
THWACK!
Again dead centre but this time I caught the full width of both buttocks. I estimated that I had left a welt of some 18 inches and noticed that the tip of the cane had whipped round and bit in hard.
But there was still neither sound nor movement. I was impressed but noted mentally that he might be a challenge. Anyway, two strokes was enough fo rthis offence and I told him to stand.
I noticed when he turned to face me again, that he was neither flushed nor showing any signs of discomfort.
I waited.
"What do you say?"
"Pardon, sir?"
"When I cane a boy it is for his own good, and I expect him to ackowledge this afterwards by thanking me."
"Sorry, sir, I didn't realise. Thank you for caning me, sir."
_d_a_m_n_ cheek! Instead of "thank you" he says "thank you for caning me", to which he might almost have added "I enjoyed it"!
He stood waiting impassively. I made the usual short speech about not letting it happen again, and dismissed him.
Over coffee on Monday I overheard a collague comment that he had had to warn "the new boy" about his uniform. Further enquiries revelaed that he had his shirt untucked during registration. I immediately arranged for himn to be sent to me after morning break.
Ten minutes later there was a knock at my door.
"Come in!"
Adam walked in, calm as a cucumber, and again asked if I wanted to see him. I told him to close the door and stand in front of my desk.
I said that I understood that his shirt had been untucked during registration. he responded that it had, that he was sorry and that it would not happen again. No emotion, no fear of the cane, no real concern. Was he challening me?
I decided that words were unnecessary, only actions would do.
"Two strokes were clearly no enough." (Let him know what is about to happen, imply more than two strokes, tell him no more.)
"Pull out the chair and pass me the cane." (Boys generally hate having to be involve in the preamble to a punishment, but he did not seem flustered. He handed me the cane, which I took and flexed in traditional style.)
"Remove your blazer and put it on the back of the chair." (Not necessary but it underlines that I mean business.)
When he turned to face me I had the two ends of the cane almost touching. I tested it in the air once, as if to be sure that it was up to the job.
"Bend over!"
The same strong stance and firm grip on the chair.
Tap, tap, raise it fast and
THWAACK!
The first stroke is often not the best, but that was a beauty. He would learn the hard way not to mess with me! He again made neither sound nor movement but I noticed his grip tighten on the chair.
Tap, tap, up and
THWAACK!!
He felt that one! But no sound.
Tap tap, lower down and
THWAACCKK!
The chair moved this time, there was a stifled groan (he was clearly gritting his teeth) and his left leg buckled slightly as he tried to absorb the pain. This was my chance to let him know that I had spotted the chink in hias armour, so I didn't hesitate:
"Straighten your leg!"
He did, bringing his buttocks back into position, but it gave way again.
"STRAIGHTEN YOUR LEG!"
He forced his leg straight and held it there. Strong muscles at play in the trousers I suspected. He braced himself again.
Tap, tap
THWWAAACKK!
Sooner than he had expected and harder and lower. A definite groan was heard, and both legs buckled.
"Straighten your legs, boy, I won't tell you again!". (Let him think that there's more to come!)
I waited until he was back in position. Then I waited longer. Then I told him to stand, keeping the cane in my hand in case I needed to continue.
He was clearly in great pain but hid it well.
"Thank you for caning me, sir"
"Will four strokes be enough for you to remember?"
"I think so, sir" I noted that the answer was not certain.
"Shall we try six?"
"No, sir, four will be sufficient for today." Still that inference that there would be a next time.
I laid the cane on my desk while he replaced his blazer. He was a good boy to cane I and had to make a comment.
"You took it well."
"Thank you sir, you cane well."
"You've obviously been caned before?"
"Often at my last school sir, but not as well as you do it."
I decided to take matters further.
"I need to check that there's no damage - drop your trousers."
No hesitation, he undid his trousers and let them fall.
Turn around, lower your shorts and place your hands on your head."
He did this and I moticed that powerful thighs that I had suspected were lurking beneath the trousers. He was going to be a very strong young man.
Six welts were spread right across his buttocks, the two from Friday now turning into bruises. I had done a good job.
I made a mental note to make it the full six next time with trousers down - partly so I could see the was his muscular thighs behaved during punishment. I would also need to address his slightly cheeky manner and resolved that the firm application of the tawse across the back of the thighs would be a good place to start.
Both of which proved necessary before the week was out, but that story is for another day.