Adlington re-opened his eyes shortly after the sixth stroke had come crashing down on Johann's bum. It had sounded louder then the fifth stroke, the Headmaster must have put supreme effort into this parting shot. The first four strokes had been terrible enough to behold but it was clear that Dr de Ville had strength and technique lacking in the bulky frames of his deputy and of the PE master. In fact, though Adlington hadn't realised this, Dr de Ville, though still more than averagely muscled and in good physical condition for his age, was lighter in weight than either of the other two masters and less physically strong than the much younger PE master. It was technique that gave the Headmaster the edge. In part this arose from his, already alluded to, skill as an ambidextrous bowler. However, a bowler of Dr de Ville's erstwhile status required more than powerful arms and the capacity to swing them in a disciplined way: he needed an excellent eye. In bowling the eye was for the bails and it oversaw the manner in which the arm rotated, the strength of the rotation, the direction of the rotation and the point at which the ball was released to pursue a trajectory henceforth dictated by Newton's laws of motion (plus a few chaotic perturbing elements introduced by the imperfections of cricket balls, air turbulence, etc. – things that Newton, couldn't, didn't take into consideration.) So it was with aiming a birch at a naked bum. A birch in action must never leave its operator's grasp; well that's obvious. The subtlety is that the birch's trajectory, unlike a cricket ball's, must be adjusted all the way to the target. Not just the force of the swing matters but also the angle of the implement with respect to the target. Even that's simplistic. The target is not flat; it is, ideally, two mounds looking like firm peaches. A skilled operator controls the birch even when it has made contact. A twist of the wrist will ensure that part of the momentum is shared over a wider area than the initial contact points. Moreover, these controlling twists can go in two orthogonal directions simultaneously (the wrist is a versatile joint): left right to ensure flat coverage of the twigs across as wide an up down area of the bum as possible, and forward backward movements to direct the tip appropriately around the mounds and to the flank that the distal end of the birch is reaching. Of course the nakedness of the bum is a considerable aid to knowing where to direct each blow for maximum effect whilst eschewing the unnecessary cruelty (and in some sense less effective in terms of overall pain as against tissue damage) of constantly pounding the same area. Thus, Dr de Ville by being more skilled had a distinct advantage over heavier or stronger colleagues. That's not to say that his colleagues weren't very effective; three boys, thus far, can testify otherwise; indeed those two masters had sufficient prowess with the birch to put anticipatory fear into boys in Eton, Rugby or the police courts of the Isle of Man; its just that Dr de Ville was dramatically more proficient.
Adlington's open eyes revealed that Petreson was slumped forward in an inert manner which contrasted with the muscular tension evident before each blow. He watched as Petreson was coaxed upright and, obviously needing help, assisted off the stage. He saw Petreson begin his long shambling egress from the hall. Petreson was walking with his shoulders hunched forward like an ape. He kept stumbling and it was obvious that without the gentle support of the prefects on either side of him Petreson would have fallen face forward to the floor. Petreson's face was crimson (probably more from being bent forward whilst birched than residual embarrassment) and tears were streaming down his cheeks as he sobbed quietly. Between Petreson's legs there was no evidence of the tumescence that had caused Petreson such humiliation when his body was first fully exposed to the audience. Petreson, three quarters of the way to manhood that he was, looked like a naked three year old who had lost his mummy on the beach.
Even while Petreson was exiting from the drama, neither stage left nor right but stage front, activity resumed on the podium. Adlington saw Wilkins urge Melrose forward and to his left to face the audience. Immediately the diminished line of miscreants shuffled to their left until Thorpe occupied the ring side position vacated by Melrose. He saw Thorpe, looking distinctly agitated, place his hands on his head without bidding. Whilst this was happening Dr de Ville had deposited the used birch with the others. Even as Wilkins began divesting Melrose of his shorts Dr de Ville was taking the few steps necessary to bring him near the edge of the stage facing the audience.
At the very moment that Petreson was passing through the double doors at the end of the aisle he had just traversed, Melrose's shorts had fallen to Melrose's ankles; Petreson did not know this. Petreson no longer knew much of anything apart from throbbing pain in his backside; a pain that inexplicably exploded into greater bursts like tsunami crashing through the usual breakers; these bursts coincided with palpable minor muscular spasms in his backside. Petreson barely remembered that his Christian name was Johann. He had no recollection of dismounting the stage and stumbling to the doors. He certainly had not been disconcerted by the faces of the pupils lining the aisle staring at his pudenda as he approached them and then turning in their seats to admire his throbbing bum as he passed them: he was not aware of their existence. Johann was in a private world of agony travelling he knew not where; he was barely aware that he was travelling.
Johann's remaining journey was brief. A reception area with seven beds had been set up in the "Board Room" just off the main entrance hall to Thistletop School. This was where the school governors met three times a year, where Dr de Ville hosted distinguished visitors and where more often than not he met parents of prospective pupils; it was more impressive, but less cosy, than his study and much closer to the school entrance. The room also had an adjacent private lavatory which might come in handy on this occasion. One reason for this arrangement was that Matron's infirmary was too small to accommodate this number. A second reason was that the infirmary was a relatively long walk from the assembly hall and up a long flight of stairs. A third reason was that the two prefects on escort duty might be hard pressed to get back to the assembly hall on time for the next victim if one of their charges had difficulty reaching his destination. The plan was for Matron to keep an eye on the boys, and tend to their immediate needs, until she felt they were ready to be escorted to their dormitories (in Johann's case Headmaster's House).
Johann was led into the "field hospital" and helped to lie face down on an empty bed. No blanket or sheet was placed over his naked form; even the softest silk would have caused torment. His eyes had cleared a little before he entered the room and he vaguely took in sight of Atkins and Drummond each lying flat on beds, each with a raw looking rump, and each sobbing quietly. Atkins groaned loudly. Matron was sitting on a low stool besides Atkins bed. She had forceps in her right hand and was transferring a twiglet to an enamel kidney dish set on a low table near the bed.
By the time that Johann had lain with a groan on the bed Melrose was taking the few steps toward the "stool".
In literature it is not easy to set down events that occur simultaneously, particularly if they are at different locations. There are two main options: a set of intercalated sequences which can become confusingly disjointed, which I Pettigrew (your author who outranks you) sometimes employ, and text in parallel columns as in a newspaper. The latter is not feasible given the limitations of the medium in which I have to work. When the film version of this tale is produced multiple windows may be a solution. For now I shall take the simple, but artistically unsatisfactory, expedient of rewinding time.
Melrose had stepped forward to face the audience. His troubled mind managed to note the spectacle of Petreson's departing red rump half way down the aisle and the necks of pupils sitting by the aisle craning round to allow their eyes to feast upon it. He was aware of Dr de Ville walking toward the front of the stage. He winced as cold fingers came into contact with his waist on the left and right sides. He noted the tension mount in his waistband as the elastic of his shorts was gently pulled away from his flesh to allow downward passage of the garment. He felt the parts of the waistband not in Wilkins fingers slowly pass down his body. The part in the front touched his flaccid penis on its way down. The part at his back moved over his bottom, tightening until it reached the widest part. Then suddenly his shorts fell to his ankles brushing his knees on their descent. He knew what to do next. He bent down, grasped the shorts and stepped out of them, straightened, handed the shorts to Wilkins and replaced his hands on his head.
Melrose, the fourth former now standing naked before the audience, has not been described to you before. The members of the audience can see him clearly. If you screw up your eyes then perhaps you can too.
The Headmaster began speaking: "Melrose is to be thrashed before you because he lied with Atkins, Drummond, Petreson and others to get a decent and honourable boy, who happened to be a nuisance to Smith, into deep trouble that he certainly did not deserve. The fore-mentioned three boys have each received six strokes of the birch for that. Melrose did more: he actively engaged in Smith's regime of torment and abuse of other boys. The evidence is that he enjoyed it. He did not passively help Smith: he collaborated with enthusiasm. Yes, he was much the junior partner. More junior than Dobson who soon will painfully learn what such collaboration earns."
Dobson visibly flinched then resumed his quiet sobbing.
"Yes, Melrose was inveigled into this mess by Smith, an older and devious boy who happened to have authority over him. Yet, none of this excuses Melrose for the fervour with which he engaged in Smith's bidding. I remind again you of a principle that has emerged from the recent, tragic war with the Nazis. A war in which some of you lost fathers, elder brothers or other relatives. The principle is that no man who commits evil acts can use the fact that he was ordered by a superior so to do as an excuse. Yes, Melrose is a sad pathetic boy. Look at him sobbing before you! His age is no excuse but it mitigates his punishment."
A pause.
"That said, I have reconsidered the punishments for Melrose and Thorpe." Melrose and Thorpe each had a moment of hope. Melrose's tears reduced a little.
"I don't think eight strokes of the birch sufficient."
Melrose didn't take this in for a moment. Thorpe immediately felt a weight in the pit of his stomach.
"They each shall receive nine!"
"Moreover, it is fitting when such an example is being made before the school that they should receive a goodly portion of the punishment from their headmaster. I shall, in both cases administer four of those strokes. I should wish to administer all the strokes for all the boys assembled for punishment this day but that would not be practicable."
"Melrose!" Dr de Ville shouted, "Get yourself into position now!"
Smith, anxious though he was to get it all over with, was getting worried on two counts. Would the Headmaster increase his punishment from the expected twelve to say fourteen or fifteen? Would the Headmaster administer a larger proportion than he expected of the strokes he was to receive? The latter possibility vexed him greatly. Though he had not yet attained the ring side position he had observed how forcefully and precisely the Headmaster delivered the strokes and the reactions of their recipients. These thoughts switched Smith from wanting to get it over with mode to procrastination by any means mode.
Mr Watkins had been following the proceedings intently. He watched with interest as Melrose stepped forward to face the audience. The youth standing there in his shorts looked about midway between fifteen and sixteen years of age, maybe closer to fifteen. Melrose was, perhaps, slightly below average height for his age but not remarkably so. Of course, Mr Watkins had seen Melrose before in class but never paid much attention to him; there were many prettier boys in that form. Yet seeing Melrose attired thus, soon to be completely disrobed, and given the nature of the event that Melrose was partaking in the youth suddenly took on a beguiling aspect. Given a choice it would be Petreson every time, next Atkins and closely behind Drummond. However, this boy standing nervously before him had possibilities. The youth was thin, wiry would be a better word. He obviously had muscle and hardly an ounce of fat. His hair, slightly longish by Thistletop standards, was brown. He knew, from previous contact in class, the boy's eyes were hazel but that could not be determined from the distance the boy was away from him now. Melrose's face was long rather than broad but not especially so; he had prominent eyebrows and eyelashes; his cheekbones were clear cut; he had a wide mouth, which in other circumstances could produce a cheeky grin, with narrow lips; his neck was long and slender with a masculine Adam's apple. There were tufts of darkish hair in Melrose's armpits, clearly visible because the youth had his hands on his head. The exposed parts of Melrose's chest, arms, abdomen and legs were white as if never tanned. Melrose's ribs were visible but not as in the emaciated. The belly was flat. There were clearly defined hips and waist but not as marked as Petreson's. Melrose's thighs looked strong but not particularly thick, the sort a wiry lad would have. From that distance no hair was visible on Melrose's arms, except as mentioned, chest or legs. Close to, fine downy brown hairs would be visible especially on Melrose's thighs and the fronts of his lower legs. Mr Watkins waited with exquisite anticipation for full revelation. He was not to be disappointed. Slowly Wilkins drew down Melrose's shorts. What appeared was an average sized penis for a boy of his age, neither particularly long nor especially short, neither exceptionally thick nor infantile. This organ hung limply before a pair of nicely rounded balls, the right one hanging a trifle lower than the left, neither was fully down nor retracted upwards into a tight scrotum. These delights were framed by a respectable mass of dark curly hair that extended on to each thigh but didn't rise above the pubis.
The Headmaster peremptorily ordering Melrose into position was the first time Mr Watkins had ever heard the Headmaster shout in anger. It was obvious that Dr de Ville was taking these proceedings very personally.
Immediately Melrose turned to face the "stool" and started walking toward it. The boy was trembling markedly. The buttocks revealed were pert, wholly muscular, and rounded but very different from Petreson's. There was little feminine ambiguity about them yet they were boyish and pretty to look at. The cheeks of Melrose's bottom rippled pleasingly as he took his few steps forward. The apparently modest size of Melrose's behind belied its enormous potential when Melrose bent over. His buttocks blossomed into two very satisfying well spread peaches. Mr Watkins was feeling excited again and a trifle ashamed of himself.
Chapman began to watch with real interest as Melrose was angled into the perfect position for his punishment. Though it was Smith that Chapman truly wished to see humiliated and suffer there was some satisfaction to be gained from watching Melrose, a bit player in Smith's scheme of things, writhe in pain. His gaze followed the Deputy Head has he went to the barrel and selected a birch. The Deputy swished the birch perfunctorily and started walking to his starting position for bestowing punishment.
Melrose's feelings are best summed up in one word: terror. He was shaking uncontrollably. Sweat had broken out all down his back. He was gripping the rail in front of him with the tenacity of a near drowning man clinging to a rope dangling from the side of an overfilled lifeboat. Melrose was in no state of mind to think of prognostic indicators such as the scuff of feet behind him or the swish of the birch. For Melrose the first stroke just happened; it didn't say it was about to happen; it didn't say it was in the process of happening; it happened. A moment later that which happened elicited a startled howl.
Melrose's terror was not diminished by finally having faced that of which he was afraid. As the pain in his behind ratcheted up following the first blow so did his terror in tandem. He didn't anticipate the second stroke. This time his howl was much louder. He lay panting and beginning to sob. His terror had become a physical thing quite distinct from his pain, it was a tension in his chest ten times that which he had felt when once waiting forty minutes outside Dr de Ville's study for a meeting with the "horse" and watching seven other boys enter the study in turn and each emerge a few minutes later in tears and, in most cases, clutching their bottoms.
Melrose was so absorbed with his mounting pain and terror that he didn't notice the coming of the third stroke. This one caused him to scream shrilly. The rapidly inhaled and exhaled breathes that followed the scream competed with his need to sob and to groan.
The Deputy gave Melrose half a minute to collect his wits.
By the time that the acute pain of the third stroke had mellowed into background agony Melrose had reassembled his thoughts sufficiently to catch onto the "rules of the game". He realised that he could expect anticipatory sounds from behind him and should take the opportunity to tense his body for the blow.
He thus managed to take his fourth blow a little more comfortably though its impact was hardly less than the others. He managed to stifle a potential scream to a very load groan followed by heavy rapid breathing and then softer groans. He was barely ready for the fifth stroke which arrived as the Deputy quickened his pace.
Then he heard footsteps receding from him followed immediately by approaching steps. "Oh, my God the Headmaster" thought Melrose. He tensed immediately when the steps stopped, not waiting for the other sounds that predicted impending excruciating pain. He was rewarded almost instantly.
He was aware that this blow had arrived from his other side. His body was slammed forcibly and painfully into the upright part of the stool. Later, a day or two later, when Melrose had recovered sufficiently to begin to think about his predicament dispassionately, he discovered tender bruises on the fronts of his upper thighs where they had made contact with the upright wood. These evidently had been caused by Dr de Ville. A day or so later Atkins, Drummond, Petreson, Thorpe and himself had got together privately to compare their behinds and he observed frontal bruising on each of the others. Of course each of them were also obliged, by unwritten school tradition, to display their bottoms to classmates or any more senior boy who asked. None of these witnesses made any mention of the frontal marks, they were all engrossed by what was revealed behind. Melrose never got to know whether Dobson or Smith had such bruising but he presumed they must. He was convinced that throughout his birching by the Headmaster he had pressed his body as firmly as possible against the "stool" but presumably that did not protect from momentum cascading forward through the muscle and fat of his thighs and slamming those tissues on to an unyielding surface.
The sixth blow caused him to yell, almost scream, but not so loudly as on the previous occasion when he had been caught by surprise. Yet the pain was much more intense.
Dr de Ville noted that Melrose seemed to be taking his punishment well and did not dally in preparing and delivering the seventh blow. Melrose was well prepared for it and despite his intense suffering was keeping a grip on his thoughts. As the blow descended with a sharp swish he was thinking "Only this and two more to go." He desperately didn't want to scream. His will power was almost broken yet he managed a loud reasonably well enunciated "Ouch!" Oddly, despite the intense pain that was occupying most of his being, Melrose felt proud of this.
The Headmaster decided to keep the rhythm going. The eighth stroke was delivered after only the briefest of pauses. Its force was no less than the previous two. This time Melrose couldn't manage any degree of fortitude. He let out a very loud yell followed by "Please, please Sir, no more" and then subsided into very loud sobs.
The Headmaster paused a little longer this time. He waited until Melrose's sobbing was almost inaudible. He shifted the birch into his other hand. He poised to strike.
Although Melrose had begun to think that he now knew what to expect each time, he was taken completely by surprise at the ferocity of the final stroke. Not only did it force him harder and more painfully than ever before against the "stool" but also the birch had come from an unexpected angle and had found fresh places on his other side to torment. He could not help a lengthy piercing shriek as he collapsed devoid of muscular tone into his embrace of the stool. His sobbing was loud and interspersed with piteous groans. It took over a minute for the prefects to coax Melrose into standing upright. The youth was visibly shaking as he stood by the "stool" ready to be led off the stage. Those with a view of his rear could see little ripples or spasms occurring on various sections of both bloody buttocks; the lager ripples were clearly associated with louder groans. It was obvious to the audience that this youth's behind was ravaged in a manner that the three previous behinds had not been. Everyone in the hall, except Dobson who was still quietly blubbering, was shocked into stunned silence.
Smith was taken aback at the ferocity of the strokes Melrose had received, all of them but especially those from the Headmaster. It seemed as if the masters were putting greater effort into chastising those whom they regarded as the major sinners; perhaps they were doing so unconsciously. What had been administered to the first three had been shocking enough, but this? He knew he would receive no mercy. He doubted he could bear it, yet he had no choice. It was only though immense self-control that Smith didn't give way to self pity and blubber like Dobson.
Dobson had reached the point where he hardly registered what was happening around him, a defence mechanism of his mind perhaps. Even so, he realised that matters had taken a turn for the worse. His trembling increased as he shuffled to the left to take up the position vacated by Thorpe who had been ordered to stand near the front of the stage facing the audience. An arithmetical realisation suddenly impinged on his mind and made him literally shudder: he was next but one.
Thorpe's mental state had hit an all time low. He experienced terror as Melrose had. If anything his terror was more profound because he had witnessed what Melrose had only been able to guess at; that is Melrose's calculation started from what he saw the previous three endure and then he added some but this extrapolation had been more optimistic than Thorpe's expectations based wholly on observation. He had switched into a somnambulist-like state of being: up and around in the world but hardly aware of his surroundings. He was an automaton as he stepped to face the audience.
Thorpe was dimly aware of Melrose, slumped forward in the arms of two prefects, his legs hardly touching the ground, being taken toward the exit. From that distance Melrose's buttocks were like crimson orbs; the detailed results of the depredations they had endured were not visible but Thorpe had seen them close up; that image filled his mind; anticipatory pain was already cascading through his behind, an example of time leaving a shadow from a future that is inevitable.
Thorpe felt hands at the waist band of his shorts. He felt his shorts being tugged down. At the same time he was vaguely aware of the Headmaster speaking but did not take the words in. His eyes were so misted with tears, though he was not actually sobbing yet, that he couldn't see the audience.
Dr de Ville faced the audience and said "Thorpe is being punished for the same reasons as Melrose. He is to receive a birching of the same severity."
The Headmaster paused, looked over toward Thorpe and waited until Thorpe, after prompting by Wilkins, bent down and picked up his shorts to hand to Wilkins. The naked youth standing side-on to the Headmaster was within a month or so the same age as Melrose but he was strikingly different. Thorpe was one of those youths who have a growth spurt in the mid-teens. During the past few months he had shot up to become the tallest boy in his year. Indeed, he was slightly taller than Smith in the year above him. A consequence of rapid growth is that the flesh doesn't have time to catch up with the skeleton. Such youths tend to be gangly until they fill out later. Thorpe was long in his legs and arms, but proportionately so. There was no trace of fat on his torso or limbs. Nevertheless he wasn't painfully skinny either. His calves were fairly protuberant and rounded. His thighs were reasonably muscular as befits one who has recently discovered a talent for cross-country running. His right buttock was quite protuberant, rounded nicely from top to base, and looked very firm; it was, as suits an athlete made almost entirely of muscle; his buttocks were not as large in proportionate terms to the rest of his body as those of the boys who had preceded him in "kissing the headmaster's daughter" yet in absolute terms they were of roughly the same mass, but not shape, as Atkins' and Drummonds'; they were a little larger than Melrose's. These details were not of particular interest to Dr de Ville but he did note the lengths of Thorpe's tibia and femur. It was evident that the "stool" would need to be adjusted. The Headmaster hoped that Wilkins and his partner would realise this so that time would not be wasted getting Thorpe down and up from a stool that clearly was wrongly calibrated.
Miss Hodkins, viewing this specimen through her opera glasses, was interested. He was much taller than those who had gone before but his figure was that of a teenager rather than of a man. His flesh was pale and there was no evidence of hair other than under his arms and a generous supply in his crotch. What was fascinating was his penis and testicles. The testicles were about the size of those she had seen before but they resided in a pendulous manner at the base of deep scrotal sacks: that is they noticeably dangled. His penis was the largest she had yet seen. In proportion to his height it was noticeably longer than those of the other boys but not greatly so; it wasn't thicker than the other specimens she has seen. Disregarding proportions and taking absolutes it was definitely the longest regardless of Petreson's erection. This example was certainly not erect, nor was it entirely flaccid: it was straight rather than limp but raised only forty or so degrees from the vertical. The foreskin, Miss Hodkins barely knew the word, was slightly retracted, to expose the tip, but certainly not fully so.
Miss Hodkin's raised her glasses to take in a flat belly, a thorax on which rib lines were visible as the youth breathed and arms that were not as muscular as the legs. The boy had a long somewhat scrawny neck, but not out of proportion to his stature, topped by a pleasing face that hinted that in pleasanter times he would have a winning smile. His complexion was mid-way between blonde and brown, let's say mousy. His eyes were definitely not blue but from the distance the spinster could not make out what shade of brown or grey. These observations took place during the three or so seconds during which the Headmaster paused in his address before resuming with the barked command "Thorpe! Go and stand facing the birching stool!" In a softer tone, an almost sotto voce inaudible to people not on the stage he said "Wilkins, I suggest you adjust the stool to a lower setting before inviting Thorpe to straddle it and then take matters from there should further adjustment be necessary."
Wilkins complied with his Headmaster's "suggestion" while Thorpe stood miserably gazing at the "headmaster's daughter" he would so soon embrace.
Whilst Thorpe was standing transfixed by a vision of hell to come, Mr Watkins took the opportunity to study Thorpe's bum. Thorpe had never before struck Mr Watkins as a youth of potential interest, no more so than Melrose had.
At this point, lest we traduce Mr Watkins, it should be made clear that to him "potential interest" meant no more than a boy to dream about. Mr Watkins had sufficient self-control, honour and general decency never to try to take advantage of one of "his boys". Even if one of "his boys" were, so to speak, to offer himself up on a plate to Mr Watkins the kindly master would politely decline because he understood that no boy of that age can really know what he wants. In the deepest sense Mr Watkins truly cared about the welfare of "his boys" whether they interested him or not, yet dreams harmed nobody. Mr Watkins typified a large body of male teachers employed in English boys' public schools at that time: men drawn to youth, not merely _s_e_x_ually but also because of the vitality of the young, who always behaved wholly professionally toward their charges. (Of course, with respect to administering deserved corporal punishment teachers could have their cake and eat it.)
Mr Watkins saw that it was a nice, rounded, very firm and highly spankable bottom, despite the fact that in comparison to many boys its was proportionately small for his stature. He wanted to see it blossom as Thorpe bent over. He fretted while, for a seemingly interminable period, Wilkins messed around with the base of the "stool" (a mere twenty seconds in fact).
During those twenty seconds Thorpe's mind had switched out of autopilot. He was fully aware of his surroundings and of what was about to happen. He was resigned. He too fretted over the delay. He was anxious to bend over, to receive the pain that he knew might be unbearable and to get it over with. A deeper section of his mind (your author seems to have caught onto this Freudian crap) had noted that when boys showed signs of great distress the masters paused until they calmed; he wanted no pauses, he wanted speed, he wanted it over; thus a resolve, as yet still sub-conscious (bugger Freud, perhaps not – the bastard might enjoy it) to display as much fortitude as possible: no shrieks, no screams, no begging for mercy, no collapsing in an inert heap, no convulsive sobbing – just get it over.
To be continued. Where and when depends on what happens to MMSA Stories Archive.
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