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Date: Fri, 18 Nov 1994 20:21:23 UTC
Subject: STORY - The Old Rectory - Chapter 6 - Special Tuition - Solitary Sacrifice
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Special Tuition - Solitary Sacrifice

After the high jinks of Piggsy's comeuppance almost anything would seem rather dull by comparison. So far as we could tell neither Piggsy nor the Dame suspected anything - which, while it spoilt the fun a little, did not give Piggsy the opportunity to peach on us - which he would certainly have done. In any event there were three of us now in the garb of the junior boy and Alfred, the youngest, was in greys.

My activities at the weekend were commented on by the Dame that evening when I reported after Prep.

" The Doctor was of course absolutely right to flog you severely on Saturday for such outrageous behaviour. You may be assured I will do exactly the same if I should catch you lying to me or getting up to things. I have decided to keep you as an 8 year old for a further complete week, at least until the end of next week."

After such an eventful first week you might suppose life was a continued round of tricks, japes, gaffs and consequent whackings and beatings but not so. Some solid unextraordinary work was done by us and the previous week had rather exhausted everybody I think. Certainly Eddie and I managed to reach the weekend with bottoms that were neither sore nor exceedingly marked by the efforts of our master and mistress. The Doctor had by now determined on the additional Latin it was felt I needed, which was put into effect the third week of my time there.

This was to take the form of some personal tutorials, but the problem was when. There was nobody to stand in for the Doctor for the bulk of the lessons as the Dame did not teach academically. She was in any case not seen much during the day when lessons were proceeding. The solution proved to be my friend the Captain. It transpired he was at least capable of supervising the other three boys for one lesson every day,when the others did additional written work.

My latin classes were taken with the Doctor in the Library. Initially this took the form of memorising and then declining by rote latin nouns and verbs. I had to stand for these recitations and he would sit in a chair behind a desk facing me, his hands behind his ears, the better to hear me with, in a comic fashion which I could hardly forbear from laughing at the first time. When I made a mistake he would kick the desk, which was unnerving and did little for my concentration. I would have to correct the stream of regurgitated memorised or rather imperfectly memorised, stuff until I got it right or, he became impatient.

When that happened out would come either a ferrule or a cane, the former to be brought down in my outstretched hand, the latter on my backside. seldom would one of these viva voce examinations pass without one or the other or both being used several times.

" You have not learnt your work boy - hold out your hand!"

I would not have to move an inch as I had to stand directly to one side of his desk so my outstretched hand could be within reach of his ferrule. If I was to be caned on my bottom I would be told to go and stand in front of the desk and then bend over it. He would then stand, select a cane from a basket near his desk, walk slowly round and thus deliver the requisite punishment, between three and six, over shorts.

After these corrections we would each resume our positions as if nothing had happened.

Once we had moved on from declining nouns and verbs I had to the usual translations and read the translation out aloud from the original latin text. This was given the same treatment except that minor errors or matters where there was a choice of English word, were only corrected orally. I was left in no doubt however that if he considered I had made insufficient effort more severe punishment would ensue. This was the second occasion that I received a birching from the Doctor.

It must have been four or five weeks after my arrival - I cannot recall exactly when. By then I had been adjudged fit to wear schoolboy grey - proper shorts - at least in colour although still with those side- buttons - proper stockings, shoes, tie shirt. Eddie as I recall was also restored to his proper age. the consequence was we went to bed later and so as a result perhaps allowed ourselves more recreation and time spent on fun and games - to the neglect of more serious matters. Either way I do recall my construing very badly.

I had already had the ferrule three times across each palm and the cane - six - on the seat of my shorts - and he was plainly himself a little short on patience. When I mad three simple errors in one sentence he stopped me.

" This is too bad - too bad - Perceval you have made no effort at all - it is as if you have never read the passage. I refuse to waste my time further. You will do it again tomorrow. Meanwhile I shall waste some of yours. Go and stand outside my study and wait. At 4 pm precisely I shall flog you."

It was only a quarter to three as it was so I had a whole fifteen minutes to wait. As the short corridor where I had stood once before, was not a common thoroughfare I did not expect to see any other people about - or more accurately did not expect them to see me, as I would be facing the wall.

Unfortunately two of the upstairs chambermaids was dusting in the hall and had a good snigger at my expense as I entered the hall turned and took up the standard position. One was a relatively new servant, but the other would have been accustomed to such sights and so commented freely on me to the other.

" There's another one of them boys set to 'ave 'is bum whipped."

" Ow d'you know that then?"

" It's 'ow them stands see. If the've just got an appointment they just stands like this with their 'ands b'ind them, still facing the wall, but this one 'as 'is 'ands on 'is 'ead. That means he's for a walloping - dose of the cane or the birch I shouldn't wonder - and wiv 'is trousers down most like."

" Ain't that awful cruel - they seems such nice boys?"

" That's none of your concerns - don't you go feeling sorry for them - they can be little scamps - deserves all they get and more. That's what Polly Perkins says anyhow, and she should know."

" Do they really make 'em take their trousers down?"

" Course they do - that's what they're used to at all them posh schools. Sometimes you see them stood in the hall wiv 'em down already or just after, then you can see the marks or their red backsides."

" 'nuff to put you off your work!"

" As it clearly has already!"

" Lummy, the Dame!" hissed one of these guttersnipes.

" Kindly keep your attention on your work unless you want me to apply similar treatment to idle servants, Smith!"

"Yes mum. " And off they went like smacked mongrel dogs but rather less noble in my view- a dog at least has a certain capacity for love and loyalty.

I prayed that Dame Hilda would ignore me and that she would go away. Indeed I thought she had. I thus relaxed slightly allowing my legs to bend ,shifting my weight from one leg to the other to avoid stiffness in the joints.

The hall clock struck the quarter hour, when I sensed a presence behind me.

" I have been watching you Master Henry, very closely."

" Oh! You made me jump madam!"

" Indeed I'll make you jump right enough - you are an incurable fidget - can you not stand still, as you have been told time and time again no doubt? "

I knew enough neither to affirm, nor deny, this accusation but stood stock still as upright and proper as I could manage.

" Come out into the Hall."

I turned and followed her into the main hall area, my hands still on my head. When she halted, so did I.

" Turn around and place your legs apart."

I then felt my right trouser leg hem being lifted right up - the sorts were quite loose - and then " Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! " Her hand peppered the back of my leg like a maxim gun.I grimaced screwed up my face did every thing but move my leg or let out a cry, only to exhale at the end The other leg and the same treatment and the same result - why did I not cry pride I suppose and a peculiar and perverse notion that I deserved it.

" Now go back and stand there properly! "

The noise of my legs being slapped echoed in the hall and up the stairs to the landing and I could hear giggles and whispers, knowing that those two harpies had witnessed the whole thing!

The pain soon subsided, but neither the shame nor the pain persisted so much as the profound feeling I had merited it, and brought it upon myself entirely.

Now I stood as still as possible making only the minutest of movements, literally aching for the Doctor to arrive and end this - I would rather have had the flogging over with for all its sharp rebuke of my bare bottom than this tiring and tedious standing.

Doors opened and shut, footsteps came and went, women's heels on shiny polished floors clacking and cackling and ringing, ringing in the empty hall punctuating the air with their interrogations and taunts. They seemed to say,

" Who are you boy!"

" What are you boy?"

" Why are you here boy?"

" We know you boy!"

" We see you boy! "

" Hear me boy! "

" Bad, bad boy!"

" You'll be beaten boy!"

" Bad boy!"

" Beaten boy!"

" Lonely boy!"

" Only boy!"

There is no comfort in such grim solitude save self pity and the remorse of tears. Only a much later and lone conversation with the cold stars of the deep desert marking the passing of lost, dead, dear friends in 1941, would ever be as deep and as bitter as the tears I shed as a young boy facing the walls of the Rectory in those distant days. Then I was a man, now I was but a boy - yet the scars of our youth reopen often to enlighten our elder days. In the continuum of our life, the thread from childhood to boyhood may be long but it is thin and unbreakable. We are our memories or we are nothing, and while the richness of our past may haunt our present, let us for a moment lose it and we are bereft, set sail on an empty ocean without counsel and without compass course and victuals. So it is with the boyhood I had and shared.

"Ah but I was so much older then I'm younger than that now."

Time passed, oh much, so much more, slowly. So did my limbs ache and my mind beg for the release though it would only place me in another much more ignominious and sharply painful one than this vigil.

How can I recall the moment when the clock struck for I was numb inside, feeling submerged within my deepest recess, tears and sighs long since gone and spent? I had been broken - not by blows and pain and stripes but by scorn and ignorance, by isolation and deprivation amidst humankind - by the knowledge that the only physical and human attention I was to receive would be that of the birch, the only caress and comfort that of the Lady Queen of rods and me as her penitent but impatient willing sacrifice. Now there were no young men to witness, no manly hands to shake mine, no words of comfort in my ear, no firm hands on my shoulders and back to reassure and calm, no sharing of my ordeal - just lonely vigil and painful denouement.

No - the clock came as a blessing and a release and I exhaled and hoped to live again amongst my fellows.

So came the Doctor and the swish of his gown and so came the birch and the swish of the rod. Into his study I went and out again to the flogging room and the block upon which I had knelt before.

" Take down your trousers." I knew this meant knickers too and did not wait for the instruction to bare my bottom.

Cold hard unremitting words with no witness now to tell either of my courage or my frailty. Did I not retell them now, none save God could, for the Doctor went to his redeemer many years since.

" Go down."

Once again I knelt on the step, knowing now where to place my hands. I felt my shirt lifted, high, right up to the middle of my back.

Now I felt droplets of water as the rod was swished experimentally by the Doctor, then it fell, without warning or forecast of the length of whipping I was to endure - for good reason - the Doctor had none in mind save the duration of the rod.

The familiar sensation came as the tips began to cut my outer thigh at once, but without remorse. No subtle variations of pace and place moved him now, only one aim to elicit cries, tears, entreaties and howls from me. Sharp and needle like were the points and stripes - high were my yelps and yipes. Not once did he vary the area attacked - my left buttock went largely unpunished while the right was flayed and flayed. I kept my elbow and shirt sleeve tucked in to my body to catch the extremes but the rod found its way through to the tender parts lapping round my thigh at the top and at the bottom.

I lost all count and he kept no even rhythm, sometimes slow and hard and others rapid. Some bounced on my bottom's crown and landed on the small of my back stinging the unpunished soft skin there, others stopped against my bottom, hard and brittle, every bud and tip felt as it rested where it had landed - a hard rebuke and eloquent reminder. Others slashed and cut grazing my skin.

I must have had a dozen or so before I cried out at each and sobbed between them. As each spasm of sorrow subsided a new onslaught would begin and through my tears and terror I could hear his heavy breathing and exertion too and clatter as pieces of wig flew off and hit the walls.

So the endless kiss of the Goddess reduced me further to a snotty tear streaked boy of no consequence, my being totally caught up with the assault upon my bottom by the rod - nothing else existed for me but the swish and slash and the sharp burning agony and my tears.

Then it was gone and the rod lay beside me discarded and destroyed, spent, its force dispersed and power discharged into me. I could feel the multiple ridges and weals as my fingers softly explored my right bottom cheeks and thigh and side. Some dampness where grazes threatened but did no actually draw blood stung furiously.

So was he gone too and I was left, alone again, to recover my emotions, my senses, my dignity, my self control and my trousers.

That night I could only sleep on my left side and the sting and hurt needed many days to heal, I am not sure that the mental scars - honourable wounds perhaps - ever have , entirely - this sacrifice would be known only to me and him. I had not felt the Goddess murmuring in either my ears or as warmly in my other deep places and parts - there had been no transcendant joy or passion - no manly embrace - no friendly handshake - just cold solitude and impersonal penitence. This had been a lesson in more than one sense - about more than classical translation. It had been rape by proxy with the rod as corespondent.

There is no love without pain and pain without love has neither purpose nor meaning - that would be real sadism.

Never did its like happen again and never was it referred to by the Doctor. Some years later another, close to me did, to my surprise, when he said to me, " I've no need, or desire to break you - the Doctor already has, that day in his study when he flogged you, for your latin. Then, you began to understand and now you really do, although you do not still realise it. From that day you were part of us and one with us when She took your offering and did not even acknowledge it. That is a real sacrifice."

******************************************************** TO BE CONTINUED:

The Old Rectory - Chapter 7

Easter - Piggsy's Redemption and the Captain's Intervention

Easter was late that year and coincident with that period was a short break for most schools. Not so for us. Indeed affairs became even busier with the promised addition of a new boy as a boarder and of Piggsy Briggs for one week, his Mama having gone to relatives in the country, and she having been persuaded at last to avail herself of Dame Hilda's previous offer to induct Piggsy to the charms of life as a boarder at the Old Rectory.

" This evening we welcome Master Briggs to us for one week."

Eddie and I must have looked at each other in a transparent fashion.

" I will have no bullying or other cruel behaviour. If a boy needs correction he knows where to come."

With that enigmatic remark she left Piggsy with us the Monday before Easter in the evening as he settled into our dorm where another two beds had been installed.

" So now you're one of us Piggsy."

" Yes cold showers, and cold bare scrubbings and spankings at bedtime!"

I must confess he did not look overly delighted to be among us! It had also been made clear that as a new boarding boy he was back to the 8 year old status and he was not happy, knowing from us full well what that meant.

So at half pas seven while Eddie and I still enjoyed some time in the library he was in Perkins'tender hands being bathed and scrubbed an no doubt making an intimate acquaintance with her terrible temper and bath brush.

When we repaired to bed he was there redfaced, streaky cheeked with old tears. Our hostility was not unremitting and we were not complete monsters and we were curious. So we behaved in a sympathetic fashion to hear what had transpired. Much as we had suspected Piggsy had been no more respondent than we to the bath time manner of the maid but had been thoroughly abusive to her too. She had got him over her knee alright but then grabbed his heels, upended him and pulled him back so his bottom rested on her lap his legs either side and behind her, rather like a wheelbarrow. Naked and helpless she then brought the bathbrush down on his plump, damp readily presented cheeks like a timpani player in an orchestra forte and fortissimo. His responses must have been of a matching character.

By the time we caught up with him he had recovered slightly, but we insisted on seeing the effects. Sure enough, clear red blotches marked the edges of the bathbrush and he was obviously tender still. He ,like us, had joined the ranks of the Perkins haters and now had a more perfect understanding of what lay at the root of our hostility to her. But we were not yet ready to enter him into the ranks of the Jacobites and of our conspiracy to revenge ourselves upon our tormenter.

Before we would do that we needed to be clear where his loyalties really lay and whether his week or so's residence at the Old Rectory would permanently amend his character as far as we were concerned.

Having reviewed our plans we had resolved there was still some gaps in our knowledge, some critical ones, for example I had omitted to note which way the doors in her quarters opened, and what sort of door handles they had - were they handles or knobs?

The only solution was to put a boy in - to amend an old intelligence term. The easter weekend was the key - Perkins was going away - this Piggsy had overheard when in the scullery having his early tea before bed. Thus once inside our spy could spend all the time required. You may wonder why we simply did not set our traps then. The answer was they depended on the intended victim already being inside. We had no plans formulated that would operate on a returning Perkins, so that also needed intelligence. If we were successful a second entry would be effected and appropriate actions carried out.

Piggsy would have a role - as a lookout and a diversion - although we would not tell him exactly what our purpose was. We was led to believe a raid on the pantry was our plan. To make this credible we had of course actually to do this too!

We also resolved that if caught the dawn following would have to, be a beating holiday so any punishment would be postponed.

So the eve of Good friday dawned and we made a special effort to get to bed and to sleep on time, with minimal interference. We tried our best to be good, clean and spotless during the day, with modest success - though the trick was not to be so good as to arouse suspicion. So we each had a few "beatings off" to redeem. By now I had graduated to the cane and as it happened had to take 6 bare, so that seemed to do the trick.

"On the eve of our redeemer's sacrifice for your sins, I hope you think on this Master Harry. Take down your shorts and underpants and bend over. "

There then followed six slow searing strokes carving a five bar gate in my backside which Eddie and Piggsy admired later. I was first however and they were still outside waiting for their turn. Trousers still imprisoning my ankles I shuffled over to the bureau to sign the punishment record for the previous day.

" This weekend there are two beating holidays Master Henry but have a care - if you should transgress tomorrow of all days I will not wait until Monday and three week weals will be your lot unless it is very minor indeed. Have a care. Now pull your trousers up and off you go."

The same was said to Eddie, so we knew what to expect - in a general sense. The risks and the consequences needed careful thought. Still smarting both of us from a caning we were very cautious and decided to postpone the first sortie until the early hours of Saturday morning then the consequences would not be made worse by our transgression taking place on a holy day.

Friday was long boring and miserable. We went to church twice, in dark suits - black shorts, black stockings, jackets and ties. the hard pews did nothing to take our minds of the previous days' round of whackings and canings. Back at the Rectory the Doctor insisted on bible study and readings - meals were frugal and semi fasts and we were altogether miserable. We would almost have welcomed a few whackings to enliven things.

Perkins' absence meant we could bath and put ourselves to bed unsupervised save for the golden half hour preceded by inspection and our prayers - especially devout we had to be.

In those days boys had neither wristwatches nor pocket watches and there was no clock in the dorm. Elsewhere in the house there were ticking striking clocks a plenty and there was one on the upper landing we could hear when it struck the hour. Could we be awake in good enough time to do what we wanted and needed?

It was still dark when I stirred and wondered what time it was. The only way was to go out into the corridor and look at the clock. A risky enterprise in itself, but excusable on grounds of biological need. It stood at half past four - still a long time till dawn but once awake we should proceed. I prodded Eddie and Piggsy to wake them and told them the time. We then put our plan into action.

Some time before we had considered the question of dress for this operation. Large white floppy nightshirts were no use and we had our dressing gowns, and could have worn those over the nightshirts but for reasons I shall explain decided not. Slippers would be noisy so we discarded them and would go barefoot. Piggsy's role was to hover at then end of the corridor outside the bathroom and if anyone came out to enter it noisily and ostentatiously to use it.

In case anyone should enter the dorm while we were out of it we had to put something in our beds to make them appear to the casual observer that they were occupied. One of the blankets and pillows each was used to make a shape in the bed. To make it more convincing we wanted one arm to appear to be outside the covers so needed our nightshirts so as to stuff them over the blanket and pillow, using a towel to for the arm inside. For a rough shaped head - seen from behind in the dark, we used a bust of Socrates and one of Plato borrowed from the schoolroom. We had realised that these would not stand close scrutiny of course but might fool a casual glance.

Had we taken our dressing gowns which hung on hooks by the door we would have been inviting suspicion so they had to remain. All we could prowl about in therefore were our tiny silken knickers, unless we could get to the changing room and our PT shorts or our dance tunics.

It was cold in the early pre dawn and we could not afford to wait long as we moved cat-like along the hall to the stairs. Our plan meant entering Perkins' quarters first, then raiding the pantry as we calculated the risk would increase the longer we were abroad and that a pantry raid would be more explicable and thus forgivable - though not free from firm chastisement - than interfering with the Maid's quarters. All we had with us was a scrap of paper and a stub of pencil - no really incriminating items.

All was quiet as we edged along. Through one door we could hear snores. A floorboard creaked! We froze, waited - no reaction and softly made our way to the door, opened it slowly - I already knew it did not squeak. Then we were inside! We talked in whispers as we swiftly noted the things we needed to know and confirmed that we know had all we wanted. So back down and our second plan - intended to put piggsy off the scent - and as it happens fill some hungry stomachs.

We had just pushed the door at the bottom of her stairs open and peaked out when I saw a figure down the hall. I pulled back and motioned silence to Eddie. I was unsure who it was, so we listened out.

At that point Piggsy did his stuff. We could hear the noise as he clumped along the corridor to the bathroom and the clatter and rush of the chain as he telegraphed a warning to us and his presence.

We then heard voices one low and murmuring, the other higher and piping but through the crack in the door found them indistinct.

What was going on? I had to look. What I saw was two figures one smaller in a white nightshirt in front of the other tall and looming. They were heading downstairs.

It was now or never and as soon as I reckoned they had gone down and left the hall area I motioned to Eddie for us to make a tip toe dash for the dorm. The pantry raid was cancelled and Piggsy's diversion was clearly turning into something else as far as he was concerned.

Once back we removed the tell-tale bolsters and put on our night shirts making everything normal and lay there wondering what was going on.

Eventually as dawn was weakly peeking in the window - we had no curtains you understand - he returned alone and looking distinctly the worse for wear. Naturally we wanted to know what had happened.

"It was a man - I don't think I've seen him before - he said he was the Dame's brother staying here over Easter, but I'm sure he came out of her room."

"Anyway I did as we arranged and so he came up to me and wanted to know why I was not asleep.I explained why but he said I was being much to noisy and inconsiderate and I needed a jolly good thrashing."

"So he told me to go downstairs and he followed me. He took me to the Library and then he took me over his knee, lifted up my night shirt and spanked me till I cried. He then made me stand in the corner until I stopped, then told me to go back to bed."

Piggsy could not say how many smacks he had received but the evidence on his red backside made it clear enough it had been a great many. The mystery of this unknown brother to,the dame intrigued us. But before then we had to explain to Piggsy how we had managed to return uncaught but with nothing to show for our efforts and his pains. There was no choice but to tell him - he had paid the price for helping us so we felt he should know. He was not terribly happy at missing a feast or on having been kept in the dark but we soon won him round by praising his pluck and courage in exposing himself as he had done and guaranteeing his full participation in all future plans.

Unfortunately for Piggsy the incident of the night before was not over. After breakfast Dame Hilda swept into the scullery and made an announcement.

" Master Briggs - I have been informed of your inconsiderate and noisy behaviour of last night and of the punishment that was inflicted. I do not consider it to have been sufficient. You will stand outside my parlour now, with your trousers down. I shall come and cane your bare bottom directly."

Poor old Piggsy - he had not merited this - but the game had to go on and he took it as well as he could. The Dame was a tartar though and gave him nine strokes which made him blub a good deal afterwards.

" I-i-its a-al-all right for yo-you ch-chaps.Its not your bottom that's hurting. Oh she was terrible - each one was so hard and she cut me right in here." He indicated the soft lower fold of the underbum. " It was her waxy whippy cane too. But I didn't tell anything. "

Another contribution to his discomfort was the news that he was to accompany the housekeeper on a shopping expedition that day but that we were not - and had the day more or less to ourselves.

Spring weather made the grounds more of an attraction than previously and Eddie and I took a football from the PT room and went off to the lower end of the extensive garden to the rear for a bit of a kick-about. we made a goal from our jackets and took turns firing shots at each other in goal. The bottom of the garden slipped away from the house and in the hollow we were out of slight from most of the house which was a good 100 yards away. We had a great time in the open air, dribbling the ball past each other, leaping to catch balls in the air, sliding to save certain goals and generally getting covered in muddy grass stains at the knees, elbows, on our shoes and the seats of our shorts until Eddie in goal connected famously with the ball when in goal, the tip of his shoe sending it soaring up the slope and out of sight. then there was a Crash and a tinkle!

"Oh Gawd Eddie what have you done?"

" Never mind what have I done - they won't care - it'll be what have we done."

" But its all you fault! And now we'll both get good hidings for it - you're a chump!"

" It could've been either of us - so stop getting windy - its my backside they'll skin - especially if you tell 'em!"

" They'll skin both of us if you don't own up! "

" Well I'm not telling them it was me and you'd better not either!"

" I'm not getting whacked because of you."

" So you'll peach will you - little sneak!"

" I'm not a sneak!" I pushed him. he pushed back and before you knew it we were all over each other rolling on the floor making fatuous attempted to injure each other without success but managing to get ourselves even more muddy in the process.

Eventually Eddie, being older and stronger prevailed and sat astride my chest pinning me down, threatening to do unspeakable things to me unless I promised not to peach and giving me one or two sample tweaks in a boy's tender vulnerable places by way of demonstration. Since that had never been my intention it was a simple promise to make and after a further warning tweak he let me up.

Our scrap and quarrel over as easily as it had begun we now had to readdress our minds to our problem.

We hardly dared look, so like Indian scouts crept up the convex slope to peer over the edge to inspect the awesome damage we expected to find. It was difficult to see. As we had fatefully surmised the ball must have gone towards the gardener's greenhouse, which was a large on set to the side of the grounds at the back, behind the old carriage shed - now used as a garage.

" What should we do?" asked Eddie.

" We can't just leave it can we?" I asked.

" Its bound to be discovered fat head and they'll know who did it."

" We could say it came from outside - that rough boys kicked it over."

"They'll recognise the football."

We stared at each other fully realising the potential storm of Damish and Doctorish wrath that would descend on our heads and ultimately our backsides before the day was over.

" We'll just have to own up - maybe it won't be so bad if we do?"

So we stood up and prepared to reclaim our ball and enter the house with the most solemn demeanour we could muster to take our punishment as manfully as we could.

We found the door to the greenhouse unlocked so went in search. It was an extensive one with half a dozen rows and about twenty yards long so it took us a few moments to find the ball and assess the damage.

It was plain enough. A great hole had been made in one of the sloping roof panes and shattered glass lay with the our leather instrument of destruction amongst the tomato plants.

We retrieved our ball and looked for something to sweep up the glass - we found a yard broom and a tin pail and began to make some effort when a voice spoke.

" Tamperin' with the evidence eh?"

It was the Captain. We at once and at the same time but not in unison attempted to explain that we were tidying it up and had been about to own up and we were sorry and it was an accident.... and so forth.

" Now one at a time and quietly. Harry Perceval - you tell me exactly what happened?"

" Well sir we were playing football down in the hollow when suddenly the ball got kicked a long way and we heard this crash and....then we ... had a... disagreement.."

" Wait "got kicked" - who by - who kicked the ball that broke the glass?"

"I did sir " we both chimed - this time in unison.

He smiled a thin smile.

" And why did you not report this immediately?"

" We wanted to clear it up a bit first - we were going to honestly sir we were!"

" It is perhaps less important whether I believe you that certain others in the household, however even this commendable honesty is unlikely to spare you both a thrashing - and look at you - one look at you and the dame will spank you till your backsides glow in the dark. Judging by your condition it must have been a dashed strong "disagreement". And you'll have your pocket money docked to pay for it."

" Oh sir that's not fair - a whacking well that's to be expected and we'll take that as it comes - but pocket money too!"

Eddie chimed in " Won't you out in a word sir - you'll tell them we weren't going to lie about it won't you sir?"

" Yes - please sir!"

We were getting quite distressed more at the unexpected nature of this crisis than at any of the specific terrors that might be unleashed.

" Well I might be able to do something..... hm...." He smiled that smile again - wicked but slightly teasing and jolly too.

"Now see here, I'm... well sort of... "On Duty".. as it were. Dame and Doc otherwise... engaged... you might say....busy....not wanting to be bothered... that sort of thing.."

We waited hanging on every word - was this hope?

"So-o I could decide to deal with this myself. I punish you - fair and square - end of story."

This seemed a reasonable offer - but.."What do you mean sir - I mean how would you punish us?"

"Oh - good whacking of course - lively lads like you can't expect to be let of completely - dashed careless - need their backsides warming - no mistake, but circumstances..."

" We'll take your punishment sir, whatever it is." Eddie leapt in.

Now we'll see what manner of man this " Captain" is I thought.

" Capital, stout boys, like to say that, dashed manly. Now then first we'll finish here, get all this cleaned up. Now be careful don't cut yourself"

So under his guidance the incriminating evidence, other than the gaping jagged hole in the roof, was disposed of.

" Good. I'll sort that out, now give me that football. I'll return that."he glanced at his pocket watch - half past two - plenty of time before tea. So both of you to the gym changing room and get into your PT togs and out of those.

We dashed off relieved while he disappeared for a while. In the changing where there was another shower were kept PT sports and dance clothes. We assumed his idea was to whack us and then give us a chance to shower and clean up our togs before the Dame or anyone else spotted them.

We were partly right. He reappeared in the changing room. He was in sporting togs too and as we had hoped had some clothes and boot brushes, polish and rags to help us clean up our clothes.

" First things first. You young fellows get your gear licked into proper condition." His military connection began to emerge." Give your shoes a good cleanin' first and I'll take a look at 'em. But before than a bit of encouragement. Up!"

We stood up. "Into the gym jump to it!"

We stood there in the "at ease" position that Jack Poole required - clad in our usual single pair of white PT shorts.

The captain had a large gym slipper in his hand, which we well recognised - Jack's!

" First boy step forward three paces. Left turn, Touch your toes."

Then " Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack!"

Six swift stinging strokes lambasted me and I grimaced as the thin cotton shorts contoured my backside tightly.

Then it was Eddie's turn and I could see as I watched that this "Captain" was an experienced boy-whacker. he knew how to wield Jack's slipper and delivered accurate stinging slaps rather that thuddy ones, with a sharp twist of the wrist and up to connect with the fleshiest parts of a boy's bum.

" That's to encourage you in your work - now go to it with a will.

We put in a real effort on our shoes. he made us sit on the hard floor - " More efficient posture" with our legs crossed to do this - which by the way also reinforced his encouragement.

Of course boot polish and boys do not mix - or rather they do overmuch and we soon had as much polish on our hands and wrists - and my knees and thighs - as on the shoes, which he nonetheless pronounced satisfactory.

Our clothes would nee more attention. He instructed us in sponging the mud off the worsted shorts and long grey stockings and off our grey jerseys and in hanging them to dry, before the could be properly brushed.

" They'll need a good hour to hang and dry before you can wear them, so before then I think some correction and some instruction is in order. Back into the gym."

He said that judging by our condition the fight had been a rough and tumble and not much sport. Had we been taught any wrestling?

We had not so we got out a coconut mat and he demonstrated a few techniques, cross buttock throws, half and full nelsons, how to unbalance your opponent and so on.

" Now you try it together. The loser of a round is the one whose shoulders are pinned to the mat for a count of three or who is thrown off the mat. Best of three - loser gets the worst of your whackings for getting yourselves so filthy."

Eddie clearly had an advantage in height and weight and soon had me off the mat for one round to him. The next round I hit on the tactic of getting right down on the mat face down so he could not pin my shoulders easily of throw me off. On my knees I tried to either catch his legs or pull him down. This almost worked and I got him down and tried to pin him put somehow he wriggled free and got behind me and tried to lift me so he could carry me off the mat. I resisted very well until frustrated he put is hand right between my legs, grabbed me there tight, squeezing hard. At this I squealed and lost my footing and was out on the floor

Eddie was looking pleased with himself. But the Captain was not.

" Don't think I don't know a foul hold when I see one - that's ungentlemanly - that round's disallowed. Come here Forrest."

Eddie scowled and sloped up to him.

" Stand up straight when I'm talking to you. You should know better than to grab a chap in his private parts like that - s'gainst all the rules of all sports is that. You'll take an extra thrashing for it - go and fetch the cane from the office."

Ruefully Eddie went to fetch the stick.

The Captain tested it. " Well it will do I suppose. Go overt the horse. Perceval come with us so you can witness."

Eddie made ready to go over it but the Captain stopped him.

" Take 'em off first."

Shrugging in an uncharacteristically surly fashion Eddie took them down. He was now naked save for mud streaks between knee and upper thigh.

" Now go over, but keep your legs together and stretch you arms out. Perceval go down the other end and hold his arms tight. Pull so his feet are off the ground. That's it now hold it." He came over and stood next to where Eddie's head rested on the soft leather of the vaulting horse.

" You're a surly ill mannered tyke who needs a good whipping to teach him manners and that's what you're going to get."

At that the Captain strode back cane in his right hand, with the left rolling up the long sleeve of his sports shirt. he swished the cane and then took up a stance some five or six stride from Eddie's bare, and, I could see now, quivering, bum. The Captain stood like a duellist side on to his target, then took a few long rapid half running strides and " Whhhh- Craaaaaack!"

"Aaaaaaah!"

Eddie yelled as the cane propelled by the Captain's run sliced into his bottom right on the crown and with a mighty whoosh and crack. I could feel him tensing then easing as the pain surged though the weal that must have raised and then subsided slowly.

The captain waited close to the backside that was his target waiting for some sign, then turned on his heel strode back, took up his stance and repeated the run. " Woooosh! CraaaaaaacK!!

" Eeeeeeeoooow Oh Aw Ow!"

I could not see where this landed exactly but it must have been lower and the cane at the end of the stroke still rested hard against his tortured behind.

Number three was delivered in like manner and Eddie shouted even louder. This time I could quite clearly see the imprint of the cane where it had landed on Eddie's right upper rump. Deep red parallel lines appeared where the cane's last six inches had done their devilish work.

Number four was cleanly in the crease and Eddie howled and yipped and kicked his legs to ease the pain. The Captain waited until the boy's legs and bottom became still and delivered five, which was a square cut and then six which was almost identical. At each Eddie yelped but with less gusto than before - he was running out of lungpower.

" Now then Laddie what have you got to say for yourself? "

Eddie hesitated then mumbled "Sorry sir"

"Come on you can do better then that, Perceval let him down."

I let Eddie'd wrists slip out of my grasp and he stood down hands to his afflicted rear.

" No rubbing yet - I'll say when you can do that. Hands behind your back - stand up straight. Now what have you,to say to me?"

This was so much more direct that the ritualised apologies and remorse of a Dame or Doc birching and demanded a sincere relevant response. I could tell Eddie was thinking hard what to say to this tyro of a boy beater who would clearly thrash his well whipped bottom again if he was unsatisfied with the answer.

"Sir I'm sorry for fighting dirty sir, and for being rude to you and being sulky." He paused, them " You were right to beat me hard and I deserved it, thank you sir. " And Eddie held out his hand to the Captain."

" Well said Edward - you're a good lad really - but you do need bringing up short sometimes - that's cleared up now. " And he shook the offered hand.

Eddie recovered his shorts.

"Now you young'un. You're not free from all this. You were just as covered in mud as this chap . I reckon he's had his punishment for that but you haven't. What's it to be eh?"

Was he actually inviting me to name my punishment. This was unheard of and perplexing as I did nit really how to respond. I did not want a repeat of Eddie's and sensed that was too much but did not want to show myself up.

Here goes I thought " Six strokes of the cane sir - that..uh.. seems..fair?"

" But not like that eh laddie - no I thought not. But still you're no coward either and I'll not disappoint you. Over here!"

" Edward, you're a strong lad - can you take Perceval here on your back - piggy back style. Up you go laddie. "

So I was horsed by Eddie - not for a birching but for a caning. Eddie tucked my bare legs under his arms and stooped forward as far as he could without toppling over. I clasped my hands together and closed my eyes.

" Whip!" The cane slashed down on to my upraised seat - not hard but whippy and very stingy.

"Whip!" This time it came in low in the crease and I "Yip!" ed

"Whip!" Right across the centre! "Whip!" lower down and to the left!

"Whip!" Another in the crease "Oww!" and finally "Whip!" back on the crown.

Through out this eddie kept a form grip on me and I squeezed tight with my knees against this ribs as each stroke cut home. My backside was so tight ion this position that each stroke was a needle sharp cut and at the end my bottom throbbed because of the tightness of my skin in that position. I too felt obliged to rub and was told off for doing so.

Now lads its half past three and you need to clean up so into the showers and really scrub. I'll want to see you have before I let you go and of course we have a certain matter of a window to consider.

Dash it - we had forgotten that with all the terror of his thrashing us with the cane. He would be bound to do worse for the window - whatever could that be?

In the shower we inspected each other's stripes closely. They were thin and fierce and would take several days to fade unlike the Dames which had usually gone by the next day. We scrubbed and scrubbed to get the incriminating mud off our knees and to scour off the sweat from wrestling. Just as we were finishing the Captain returned. "Forrest you carry on, Perceval - over here." So dripping wet I stepped onto the tiled floor.

" This is for the window. Touch your toes. Bare, wet and dripping my fingers sought my toes and water dripped from my hair down onto them. I could see he was standing to my left side, one foot in front the other behind. I then felt something cold and sleek laid against my left bare cheek.

"Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!"

Something hard, shiny stingy and horrible smacked and smacked me and it was all I could do to stay in position. Then the other side.

"Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!" "Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!"

"Ow Ah OOh! OOOOh!"

And again.

"Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!"

On top of the cane marks and all wet these final whacks were nasty and left me feeling quite raw and sore all over. Dismissed I ran to my bench and towel and rubbed away the sore as well as the wet as hard as I could. Salt tears mixed with the water from the shower.

I could hear Eddie receiving the same treatment wit a similar effect.

We dressed in silence.

But before we could go for tea he had us stand before him to inspect us.

" Yes, yes much better , altogether - smart lads. Good boys really - they just need the cane now and again to keep them good. you're both good lads - no hard feelings - I' ll be saying nothing to anyone about this afternoon - episode closed word of a gentleman." He offered his hand again and we shook it gladly. For all that he had whacked us and caned us good and hard and brought a few tears he'd treated us as boys of our proper ages and didn't preach or act all pi. He was a good sort even if he was a hard boy beater and we liked him.

THE OLD RECTORY - Chapter 8

The Jacobite Rebellion and Three Week Weals

The new boarder, Peter Frost, joined us after Easter, when Piggsy returned back to his mama. The third bed and other furniture in the dorm remained therefore. Unfortunately Piggsy was unable to enjoy the benefit of our plots against Perkins as we postponed them further. We promised faithfully to relay to him fully the results of our labours, and his pains, when they materialised.

The time had come to put them into effect. The dawn came up before Perkins was likely to rise in good enough time. Our confidence and determination were aroused and too much time had passed.

So in the early hours of the second Saturday following Easter the operation began.

Peter Frost who was ten, had been with us long enough already to have experienced Perkins' bath and bed time ministrations and her bathbrush. He was, therefore, fully willing to act as our decoy and lookout despite having been told of what had happened to Piggsy when he had last performed this function. Peter proved a brave and loyal Jacobite!

So we found ourselves upstairs in Perkins' room with all our materials ready to lay our traps. The whole plan centred on trapping her in her bathroom in conditions she would find unendurable. Into the catch in the door frame we poured a sticky glue that we knew from tests would not quickly dry and which by our calculations would be just right by dawn. We removed the spring from the door handle so it would not move - this was why we needed light!

The terror factor was a combination of our delightful rubber spider and some genuine examples of Eddie's local fauna, which were placed in the bath and sink, calculated to prompt Perkins to vacate the bathroom with all speed.

The second trick was the contents of the several fireworks - gunpowder - which we placed in a small muslin bag, secured with string hanging just where the jets of the geyser, when lit for hot water would explode it. This we anticipated would not happen in the morning but later in the evening when she took a bath or even later than that. She would assume there had been a gas explosion and the evidence would literally be up in smoke - with, we calculated no actual damage.

The final touch was the most dangerous. In case Perkins did not close the door behind her on entering the bathroom and to ensure she could not get out easily, one of us had to lie in wait at the bottom of her stairs, where she could not see them, and secure the outside handle of the door - which opened inwards to the banister with a chain of rubber bands. Sufficient pressure would snap them but it would hold for a while.

As usual we had flipped a coin and I lost.

So in the chill morning light I crouched at the bottom of the stairs clad only in my tiny knickers waiting after the dawn for Perkins' appearance. It seemed and indeed was an age.

Then I heard stirring, small thumps and bumps, and then I heard a door open and tensed, expectant and ready. The creak of floorboards and the swish of women's garments suggested she was approaching the bathroom. I heard that door open and made ready my chain of rubberbands. The door closed. I took a great risk and padded swiftly barefoot up the stairs crouching low. I could hear no noise from inside the bathroom which was strange but I could not hesitate and slipped one loop over the handle and immediately looped it round the banister rail of the small landing outside her bathroom.

My final task done I prepared to evacuate the scene, but hesitated unsure of the situation. Why were there no shrieks and screams, why no frantic turnings of door handles and banging on doors. Was Perkins totally impervious to our tricks. I could not forbear but to look - through the keyhole. There, on the floor she lay. "Oh Gawd!" I muttered under my breath - " We've killed her. What shall I do? "

My next actions were proof of a basic goodheartedness I suppose but extreme naivety and foolishness, especially where ladies are concerned. I unslipped the rubber bands and tried to turn the door handle. Foiled! Our tricks had worked only too well! I struggle and struggled with it but to no avail. I had to get the penknife with which we had unscrewed and then rescrewed the handle. I bolted downstairs and with no though for stealth and safety pounded along the corridor to the Dorm. There I found Eddie and Peter unsleeping anxious for news.

Responding to their inquiring looks I said "She's had a fit and I can't open the door - she'll die - I must get the door open. Where's the penknife?"

While ,Eddie retrieved it from its hiding place I related what had taken place. We agreed that Peter would stay where he was and play no further part ,in these matters since they had gone so awry, but he was game to provide a diversion if needed.

Eddie and raced back with the instrument ready to rescue the imprisoned maid. Along the corridor and up the stairs we raced and reached the door.

"Quick get the blade out and get the handle off! "

I bent down to look through the door to see how our victim was.

I could not see her!

"She's gone Eddie!"

"What - how can she have gone?"

I tried the door handle.

It was still stuck fast.

" I don't understand?" Eddie said.

" But I do very well."

The voice was that of doom, death, discovery and the Dame!

"Oh Gawd!"

"Stay exactly where you are both of you. Do not move from the spot. Captain please proceed."

So he was here too!

That's right lads, the games up, time for your medicine."

Defeated, in the very moment of our triumph, and no shrieking tearful screaming Perkins to compensate.

"Follow me."

Quite defeated we followed the Captain meekly to whatever doom was in store.

When we reached the landing he separated us. eddie was taken into the room where we took lunch and looked in. I was, once again place in the earlier bare room where I had lain in leathern fetters waiting to be birched.

I could hear the dawn chorus outside the window heralding still a new day. How many times since have I been able to listen to " E lucevan le stelle" without having deep personal sympathy with Carravadossi as he waits for dawn and the firing squad. My execution was going to be as inexorable if not as final, and probably more prolonged and painful.

How long I waited before anyone came I cannot be sure. I must have been at least an hour and a half.

This time I did not make the mistake of laying on the dusty floor and getting filthy, so lay on the table.

The key in the lock turned and in swept the Dame - La Belle Dame sans merci" indeed! With her were two downstairs maids - her acolytes. With minimal words I was restrained once again - though not as before. The table was pulled out and a chair place at one end and I was required to kneel on it. My ankles and legs were secured by buckles and straps and my hand stretched out in front of me and likewise secured. A rope stretched from them to the far end of the table where it was tied under the table. I was bent and kneeling as if for a beating and expected it then. I had assumed a birch would be my likely punishment and readied myself.

But no. That would have been too easy, too simple and too merciful.

First I was harangued. The catalogue of tricks and plots was laid out before me by the Dame - save the gunpowder! She knew or had guessed it all.

" You have behaved like a thief in the night - a criminal - and shall be treated like one - with the utmost severity. When I am ready to deal with you, you will wish you had never set foot in Perkins' rooms and will not sit down comfortably for weeks!"

At this she departed, her maids in train, leaving me trussed like a chicken, my backside to the door, still barely covered by skimpy knickers, though I had no doubt they would be taken down when the time came. I assumed that the next time the door opened it would be to receive my sentence.

You might think that with all the range and host of punishments that had been inflicted on our mischievous and errant boys' bottoms we were immune from further suffering - what more could they do? In fact as we became hardened, so too did their punishments - they simply increased the weight and severity and number of strokes.

So it was I lay there.

The wonder of it was I did not grow unbearably stiff and cramped, but the way the bonds were attached allowed circulation to flow freely. My knees even were comforted by a cushion that had been placed beneath them. Dame Hilda's approach was ever to punish our hands and bottoms and dignities but little else - more specifically she did not want other discomforts to distract from the main one - the pain and suffering of our bottoms under the rod and the attendant humilation of being stripped before stangers to recieve it.

Periodically I tensed my legs and hands and other muscles and wiggled my toes. I shifted my knees slightly and clenched and unclenched my bottom cheeks to ease stiffness. The wearsome wait was endless it seemed. I would have taken any punishment however severe when it came.

And so it came.

The key turned again in the lock and I could feel the presence behind me.

"Release him."

Two maids unbuckled the straps round my knees and ankles and release me from the table - though my hands were still bound.

I found it difficult to stand easily so I was half carried and half dragged from my place of confinement by these servants. Along the corridor to the stairs. Down stairs we went - to the flogging room! I, who had already had two such visitations expected to see the block and birch made ready, but not so. Ready prepared in the room were two trestles, with blankets on top and straps on them, one at either end of the room. Lying on the table in the room were two long tapered canes each bound at one end with leather handles. Their tips were rounded and pointed, but not thin. They were fearsome looking instruments.

Under the Dame's instructions I was placed across the trestle and my head forced down. One servant grabbed my still bound wrists and the other buckled leather straps round my ankles to which my hands were then secured. My ankles were then clasped together and my legs also buckled and strapped together, just below the knee. I could neither move nor see much. To either side of my feet I could see the feet of the others in the room of which there seemed to be at least six - many of whom seemed to be ladies. Then Dame Hila spoke.

" Draw down his knickers to his knees."

Slowly I could feel them being pulled down, exposing my bottom fully to the cane and the gaze of the audience.

People left the room and silence ensued. Why didn't they get on with it?. Here I was stripped and trussed and ready.

Then they returned and I could see a pair of bare legs like mine being bundled in. It was Eddie. So we were to be thrashed together! I could not see him as his trestle was at the other end of the room but I could hear the creaks and rustles and clink of buckles as he too was bound into position. Then came the instruction to lower his knickers. There was a prolonged pause then the Dame spoke, her contralto edged in a harsh metallic masculine tone.

" These two youths have been sentenced to be whipped and in a judicial manner for their offence is that of a criminal - to steal into a lady's apartments for nefarious purposes. I have summoned all of you - the servants of the household to witness the just and due punishment of these two offenders. Their victim Miss Perkins is still sedated from her ordeal but you will be able to relate to her in full detail what has occurred. Let nobody think the servants of this household can be toyed with by mere boys."

This last word she spat out with venom.

" You will each receive eighteen strokes and you will count them - if you can. Failing that Jones kindly keep a tally for me."

Another prolonged pause ensued - a silence you could not penetrate.

Then came a rustle and.....

" Whoooooosh! Thwaaaaaaaack! "

A ferocious stabbing searing stroke lit up my backside!

" Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" "O-o-o-o-one, m-m-m-m-ad-a-a-am! AH! Ah!" Ah! Ow!"

The throbbing then began. Unlike any other cane stroke I could not identify where it had landed and it hurt and hurt so. I tensed and strained at the bonds, trying to shift my backside to shield it from this terror, somehow to hide, but I could hartdly move at all. I gripped my ankles, palms sweating profusely.

" Whoooooosh! Thwaaaaaaaack! "

" Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" "O-o-o-o-one, th-thank you m-m-m-m- ad-a-a-am! AH! Ow!"

Eddie's first stroke was no less effective than mine had been.

I expected the next to follow immediately, but no - there was an agonizing wait of fifteen- twenty seconds?

Then " Whoooooosh! Thwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack! "

Even harder, if that were possible.

" Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Owoowowowowowowo! Oh! Oh! Oh! Ah uhuhuhuh T-t-t-t-two th-th-th-thank you ma-m-madam."

" Tears already? Dont' think to soften my heart or my arm you wicked vile boy. Nor you sir!"

" Whoooooosh! Thwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack! "

Eddie's second stroke had the same effect as I could hear his cries, but all I could think on, was my poor, afflicted bottom which throbbed and throbbed across its whole width, but especially my right cheek, which was hurting like hell!

" Whoooooosh! Thwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack! "

Number three seemed to land on or across the others and I bawled.

" Ow Oh Oh Oh Oh pleeeeeeese, I'm Sorry Pleeeese no!" and sobbed as more throbbing pain peaked.

"I'm waiting - boy!"

" Th-th-three th-thank you M-m-m-madam."

The next ten minutes passed bitterly, slowly and cruelly as Eddie and I yelled and cried and shouted till our boy soprano voices grew hoarse. Tears flowed throughout and at each slowly delivered stroke our bottoms flared up again with the sheer pain and agony of this judicial style whipping. I can hardly recall the pattern of events in that ten minutes as each stroke merged with the other. Neither of us could keep count after five strokes and Jones the gardener then kept count for Dame Hilda.

Eighteen strokes at the best of times is an ordeal but at the hands of an expert with the long cane to hurt and penetrate as she did but without breaking the skin is an art. No cut was off target. When we were able to examine our wound subsequently we found purple and blue and red - weals pencil thick and six inches long which hurt to touch - they covered every area - both cheeks - including the crease - absolute agony were those - but none had drawn blood.

When Eddie had received the last cut all was silence save the sound of two boys crying. I felt only relief and pain. Without a word people left that room. When we had recovered our breath it seemed as if we were alone.

"Eddie?"

"Harry?"

"I'm sorry."

"So am I."

I could feel a really strong burning sensation now, in my backside, not that warm afterglow of a spanking but a total presence - as if I could not feel any other part of my body. Other strange feelings also arose - like those when I had been birched that first time.

Then the door opened and in came two women.

" You take that one and I'll take this one."

" She really whipped their backsides proper this time - just look at this one! Weals everywhere!"

" Well never you mind - just do as you were told and put it on."

" Don't see why she's being kind - they deserves to feel it after."

"Oh they do - this ointment just stops bruises - it don't stop the stinging - in fact it makes it sting."

At this I yelped as something cold was dabbed on my bottom.

"Just you keep still Master 'arry while I puts this on your bum."

So Eddie and endured further painful treatment while these two servants anointed our backsides with this ointment which did indeed sting.

My knickers were pulled back up and we were given our clothes to put on - school greys - no little boys deed and punishment this requiring reversion to eight years of age.

For the rest of the day we were to be banished to the schoolroom and would have to do extra schoolwork we were told.

In the dorm we compared marks and commiserated as we readied ourselves for a painful day sitting on a hard schooldesk. Even through our lined shorts the pain was ever present.

Breakfast we took as normal although we kept getting knowing looks and winks from every servant we encountered and teasing pats on our behinds. We were pretty glum.

At nine o'clock the Captain reappeared. I could not recall if he had been present at our public whipping.

"No - been on other errands chaps - worse luck - must've been quite a do! She give you "three week weals" like she said ? - Lets see'em"

We turned, dropped our shorts and knickers and showed him, hands on our knees.

" Oh my eye - them's three week weals alright! Real corkers. Sleep on your tums tonight, and tomorrow too I'll wager."

He had a good eyeful inspecting the Dame's handiwork.

The he playfully smacked my bottom and said. "You'll have to get out of those shorts - its these for today my poor lads - bare bums for all to see her work."

We complained and exclaimed as we donned these shorts with no backsides in them - these were grey ones too - not black side buttoned velvet - but with no knickers the whole of the backside was open to view and punishment and anyone who didn't already know would see our marks.

Still there was no arguing with it and don them we did and repaired to the schoolroom - to find it already occupied - four others were already there - none of them had we seen before - at least I did not immediately think so - they were all in school grey shorts, stockings etc and sat at desks, but they were all big boys - sixteen or older.

They looked up as the Captain escorted us in and spoke to them.

"Today you are joined by these two regular boys - treat then as you would any other of your number. Watson, Richardson, you will move your desks to the back. You two get two stools and desks out of the storage cupboard."

The two other boys fetched two hard wooden stools about two feet high and two desks to match them. These were placed at the front of the room and repalced the more usual one piece bench-desks we usually sat at.

" Your perches for the day, lads."

It was only when we sat on them that the other four realised how we were dressed and what were revealing -a buzz went round the room. It was plain that all four could see everything we had to display from where they sat, and to be able to write on the desks at all we had to bend slightly forward which only revealed more welt covered bottom to the curious and fascinated gaze of our new classmates.

Shortly the Doctor entered and we began a normal schoolday - or that was the appearance........

With our backs to them we could not immediately gauge the nature and metal of our new classmates. The Doctor began his day with a roll-call and they answered not in piping treble voices but in older broken voices - those of young men. Still centred on our sore and afflicted backsides we did not ponder much on this but endeavoured to work diligently and without earning further punishment.

This contrasted with our fellows who soon incurred his wrath.

" Watson this preparation of your is totally inadequate. Stand up and decline the irregular nouns you were set."

In a halting tone the one called Watson made a feeble effort at his latin nouns - the Doctor banging his desk with his foot repeatedly, until he ceased exasperated.

" Come out here boy and bend over. It seems only a thrashing will encourage you to think. "

At this the "boy" Watson came out and before our eyes received six well delivered stingers with the cane, touching his toes, across the seat of his well filled shorts.

"Six, thank you sir."

As he got up from his punishment position I recognised him!. He had been present many weeks before when the Doctor had flogged me!

Similar treatment was meted out to each of the others in turn as they failed to satisfy the Doctor, two of whom I also recognised from that occasion. The fourth I did not recognise though there was something very familiar about him, which I just could not place - his voice - his manner.....

These canings proved to be only a prelude to a fusillade of hand and backside canings and tawsings throughout the morning, each far harder that we were accustomed to receiving. The doctor would raise his cane high or far back and deliver it more like a tennis player following through a stroke on the unfortunate hand of bottom thus presented. A Tawse would whistle down fiercely. Often at the beginning these strapping young men would return to their seats grinning, but by the end of the half morning one or two appeared red eyed as they stood up after a caning.

Unlike Eddie and I none had to take their shorts down for the cane or strap and I began to feel hard done by.

There was a break at about half past eleven and the Doctor swept out. At this point we could get to know these young men better.

They crowded round wanting to know all about the manner and circumstances of our thrashings and inspected our backsides with all the interest of connoisseurs of art.

One of them - Tony Richardson - turned to the one I had not recognised and said " The old Dame really knows her stuff eh Hildebrand!" He winked and laughed and the one referred to as Hildebrand replied " She's not lost her touch I can assure you!" At this the all broke out in loud laughter, but the joke was lost on Eddie and I.

" Why are you here like this?" I asked.

" Yes, you are not really lower schoolboys are you?" Eddie added.

" Not schoolboys at all now - but still in need of tuition and training lads. You see we were all once like you - pupils at this private academy - and we return regularly for reminders of what we learnt. "

We had to be content with this incomplete explanation as the break was soon over and lessons resumed - much as before.

Neither Eddie nor I were punished afresh that morning - not just because we were good at our lessons.

" In view of earlier events Forrest and Perceval I shall take a lenient view of these comparatively minor shortcomings this morning, but at the end of the day's lesson I shall consider whether along with these some final reckoning is not due."

We did not lunch with the others but in our own lunch room. Peter did not join us so we could not share the day's doings with him yet.

" Its all a bit rum Eddie." I said, these older chaps being whacked like us young 'uns. They're old enough to be prefects."

" Older I reckon, and there's something odd about that Hildebrand chap but I can't place it."

The afternoon was not like our normal schooldays. There was no PT or Greek dance, for which we were grateful - I did not relish prancing about in our tunics practically naked in front of these chaps - for all that my backside was permanently on view to them - but they had all, save one, seen it before, that night in the Doctor's study and in the flogging room.

By the time four 'clock drew nigh Eddie and I had both accumulated some penalty marks for our work which the Doctor decided should be beaten off as per usual. This system seemed to apply to the others and we were all told off to line up in the corridor outside. There we were, six of us facing the wall hands on our head and in turn the Doctor summoned each of us back into the schoolroom.

The door would open and a name would be called. "Richardson"

The boy called entered. The door shut. Then in due time we heard the sound we were well used to, of a cane or other implement descending on a backside. The door opened and out shuffled Richardson his shorts and knickers round his ankles and back to the wall he went. Soon all four of them were in a like condition to us with bare bottoms exposed.

I could not help noticing that not a single servant was seen throughout these proceedings - when we were dealt with they were always about - peering and leering at us.

Then came our turn.

" Forrest and Perceval"

Together we entered and stood before the Doctor, who sat on his dais at his desk peering over his spectacles at us.

" I know that you have both begun the day with a severe flogging at the hands of Dame Hilda, so I have been merciful today. However I cannot completely overlook some inadequacies in your work today. Your handwriting Perceval is execrable as usual and your spelling Forrest likewise."

We looked at our feet - more stripes to add to those our bare backsides already sported.

" Turn to the right and hold out your right hands."

Ah - so that was it!

He took up one of his lighter this canes, measure the distance and..

" Twhip!" A painful cut right on my palm.

I flinched an blinked back tears already.

Eddie received his and then I another...

"Thwip" Two red lines marked my hand.

And so on till we had three each.

"Now turn and face the other way and hold out your left hands."

Thus the process was repeated for our left hands.

We though that must be it but then...

" Now turn and face away from me. Bend over grabbing your ankles."

Ow! The marks on my hands burned as I grasped the rough wool of my grey stockings. With my bare bottom well stuck out I felt particularly vulnerable - worse than when I had ny shorts taken down.

There was a long pause then.....

" Whack! Whack!"

Two stokes of a paddle landed - one on each side of my bottom, making my stripes seem to flare up anew, throbbing with pain.

While I adjusted myself to this Eddie received his.

We each had six, all delivered squarely, and were a little breathless and flushed when we stood up.

" Return to your seats."

The unwelcome discomfort of the hard wooden stools on our sore bottoms was balanced by relief it was over and pleasure at not having to stand outside again.

Eddie and I glanced at each other puzzled and curious.

Then the Doctor opened the door and summoned one of the others.

In he shuffled. It was Hildebrand. he stood in front of the Doctor and from behind we could see a smooth well rounded bottom well reddened and striped.

" You have performed most unsatisfactorily today and deserve to be flogged. Pull up your trousers and go and prepare. You will report to my study at 6 o'clock precisely."

Mumbling some response the unfortunate Hildebrand pulled up his knickers and flannel shorts over his well whipped buttocks and left head hanging down.

Then came Richardson.

" Your conduct still leaves much to be desired. You will receive 12 strokes of the cane with your trousers down. Bend over."

We were seated behind him and ether was sufficient room for the Doctor to stand between us and his victim while he delivered his punishment.

The boy bent right over, grabbing his ankles, his backside tightly drawn and muscular - also smooth and hairless - like Hildebrand's - I had not yet appreciated that beyond a certain age boys and became hirsute in places other than their chins and upper lips so saw nothing special in the hairless aspect of the young men we shared that day with - they were hairless everywhere below the waist - that was plain to see - as was another strange manifestation in their private parts which I did not understand but which Eddie later explained - and demonstrated.

We then witnessed twelve fierce strokes descending on the unprotected bottom of this young man. He took it well but at then end there was a distinct quaver to his voice - even a hint of a tear and at the end the manifestation of which I spoke had disappeared in the boy concerned - and had appeared - I could feel on me. I flushed and tried to hide my face.

" Makes you feel all goosey doesn't it watching after you've had it yourself" said Eddie afterwards.

We witnessed three such canings with very similar aspects and effects which I must say I had found very exciting and stimulating.

We were not to be allowed to witness Hildebrand's flogging, it seemed, and when the last of the three had received his bare bottom caning we were dismissed to our dorm by the Doctor.

There we shed the hated seatless shorts and put our normal ones back on and spent the time reliving the day's events. Eddie then tried to explain the thing that had puzzled me and I must say I was not much enlightened afterwards, for all that the physical demonstration he gave seemed to have a similar effect on me - and a pleasurable one.

Now of course I understand completely but then I was an innocent boy on the eve of puberty still ignorant of the sensual aspects of life and totally unaware of the impact that regular and frequent castigation could have on an impressionable untutored libido. Looking back, our new schoolchums of that day clearly were not so ignorant and Eddie and I must have furnished considerable encouragement to them as we sat at the front our bare well whipped backsides on display.

At about five o'clock there came a knock on the door. Unusual because nobody ever respected our privacy before at the Old Rectory.

It was two, of them - Watson and Richardson.

" Hello you two chaps - how's the old wounds now - healing or still sore?!"

We then exchanged pleasantries and views of each others marks. As I bent over my shorts down to allow a friendly inspection the touch of hands on my bottom had an effect.

This was noticed. " Oho - I can see you'll be joining us in a few years time - the Goddess has clearly found an acolyte. Better pull up your bags before we all get randified - that's a sweet bum you've got there lad - ripe for the rod in all its manifestations."

" Steady on Tony - no need to be such a rip - they're just boys still. Anyhow we're here for a purpose - you've to join us downstairs for Hilde's flogging, but make sure you're smart - best togs. We'll bring you them so you can get ready.

This puzzled us and we were even more so when they returned with dark barathea dinner suits - bum freezer jackets and shorts with black stockings, white shirts with high wing collars and black ties. They helped us put on the ties as we were unversed in this skill and gave us a good looking over.

" That's a treat - pair of smart looking boys - you'll do. Don't mess yourselves up or I'll tan your backsides if no-one else does. Report to the reception room at a quarter to six before we go in.

So began another interesting evening at the Old rectory.............

******************************************************** TO BE CONTINUED:

THIS STORY IS STRICTLY COPYRIGHT AND MAY NOT BE PUBLISHED WITHOUT THE AUTHOR'S PERMISSION EXCEPT ON FOXXNET AND THE COLLEGE BBS... ********************************************************

THE OLD RECTORY Chapter 9

Pre Dinner Games

Eddie and I joined our new found friends in the reception room adjacent to the Dining Room at the appointed hour and were greeted in a warm and friendly manner and offered sherry.

" Come to see "Hilde" get his come-uppance have they?" said the one called Franks.

" The Doctor says they are one of us now and are to be treated as such." This was Tony Richardson.

" I wonder if "Hilde" will see it that way?" said Watson.

" Too bad if he don't - he's on the bill for two dozen regardless and will have to accept it - just as we have had to each in our time as new boys joined us."

I decided this obscure conversation had gone far enough.

" Why should Hildebrand object if you didn't?"

" They don't know!" said Franks.

" How could they?" said Watson.

" Well I'm not going to tell them - come here."

The three moved to the corner of a room and consulted in whispers.

Eddie shrugged his shoulders and took a hefty swig of sherry. I must say I felt its warming effect easing the still sore parts of my backside - which I was enjoying being covered for a change that day.

Then Tony returned.

" Its been decided you have a right to know. Hildebrand is in fact Dame Hilda's - um - brother."

" Yes her younger brother." chimed in Watson.

" So you see he would be discomfited knowing that a couple of tykes she'd whipped only that morning witnessed his flogging this evening." said Tony.

" But we've decided he needs it - to keep him humble." concluded Franks.

This was news indeed and we wished Piggsy could have been here to witness the punishment of the man who had spanked him that Easter Saturday morning while he kept cave.

However it was now time and we filed out to the Doctor's study. There waiting just as I had was the victim - dressed in the same manner exactly, in black, velvet, side-buttoned backless shorts, long white stockings, short black bum freezer jacket, and white frilly shirt. His hands were on his head, and above him were two birch rods - longer than the ones I had been made to construct.

The five of us entered the Doctor's study and moire sherries were poured while we waited for the Doctor. He was not long and processed in followed by the Dame's brother holding the two rods.

The, as before we followed into the adjacent flogging room, where only that morning Eddie and I had been given a judicial caning over trestles. How the positions had reversed in a manner of speaking. Glad I was that I did not have to face the Dame's stern and cold eye while this ceremony was conducted.

In a few moments Hildebrand was facing the block awaiting the order to take down his trousers and go down. Richardson was at his head and Watson at his heels.

" Once again it proves necessary to demonstrate the power of the rod over the reluctant scholar. Place your hands on your head Catchpole. Master Watson."

Unlike my own flogging Hildebrand was not allowed to unbutton his breeches and had them unbuttoned by Watson, who then slowly pulled them down. He then turned towards the Doctor, knelt and intoned,

" Sir I have been idle, inattentive, and poor in my work. Only the rod can expiate these sins."

The doctor held one of the birches down. I was long and slender with vicious looking tips. Hildebrand kissed it.

"Rise."

He stood up and turned towards the block.

" Go down sir. You will receive two dozen strokes"

Then he went down over the block presenting a fine muscular pair of buttocks well up for the rod's kiss.

Tony, at his head pulled up his shirttail to expose his bottom fully and held his shoulders. The Doctor swished the birch and I could hear splatters as droplets of water came off. this had been kept in pickle all right.

The stance was taken up and this time the Doctor raised the rod high well up and behind him, and brought it down with great force " Swiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiish!"

" Splat!!!!"

This sounded different - so wet were the twigs and so long. No sound came from the lips of the boy-man being beaten., yet it must have hurt dreadfully.

" Swiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiish!"

" Splat!!!!"

Already fierce, angry, red, wire-thin lines and nettle rash marks were appearing speckled red.

Four more times the doctor laid the rod on, and on each not a sound was heard.

" Fresh rod!" grunted the Doctor as he threw the birch to Franks, who nodded to me and indicated a bucket in the corner, behind the door. I had not seen this and had assumed the second one carried in by Hildebrand would be put to use.

I jumped and strode over pulling out a dripping bundle of twigs. I handed it to the Doctor who swished it several times then brought it down unceremoniously on the bare reddened buttocks kneeling at the block.

" Swiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiish!"

" Splat!!!!"

"Ah!" - a noise! Clearly the fresh rod had an effect!

" Swiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiish!"

" Splat!!!!"

" Swiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiish!"

" Splat!!!!"

"Oh! Ah! Oh!"

" Spare me your noise child! Take your whipping and be silent or I shall flog you until I have no rods left."

He strode over to the other side of his target and swished with an expert and vicious backhand.

" Swiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiish!"

" Splat!!!!"

" Swiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiish!"

" Splat!!!!"

" Swiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiish!"

" Splat!!!!"

These were stop strokes ending with the rod tight up against the skin.

Stifled noises came from the figure being flogged.

" Twelve - fresh rod!" Fresh rod!"

Once again I scampered to select another.

By now backside at the centre of attention was covered in livid red- blue-white weals and speckles, arching round the curve of the bum to the flank.

The next six were an education in technique for the Doctor flayed his bottom with cutting strokes slashing down instead of into the skin and the red that glistened now was where the skin had bee grazed and cut by the tips and nodules as each stroke cut the skin open - but only slightly.

Increasingly loud hisses and exhalations indicated the pressure being exerted by the Doctor and the difficulty being experienced by the bending victim in restraining his noise.

Yet another fresh rod was fetched - this time I left it to Eddie who was looking a little pale I thought. (Later he said it was the sherry - but I was unconvinced).

There was a pause as the Doctor adjusted his gown and spectacles which had become increasingly unbalanced as the flogging proceeded.

Then he stood back a little a delivered a mighty blow designed to elicit an unrestrained response from the hardiest soul. As it struck twigs shot off scattering on to the panelled walls.

" Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!"

A great shout echoed round the room! Tony then leant down firmly on the shoulders of the prostrate man who had now been reduced to a boy to hold him well down.

Then the Doctor slowly, methodically reduced the rod to a stump as in stroke, after stroke, he drew the same or similar cry. Not two dozen but four dozen strokes did he deliver in total by which time Hildebrand was not shouting but sobbing like the kids that Eddie and I were, had been that morning.

When four dozen had been delivered Hildebrand's backside was like minced beef all red and shiny and wet with cuts and scratches and weals, right round to the side of his thighs.

The Doctor was breathing heavily as was the boy, between sobs, and no other sound could be heard.

The rod was tossed discarded into the corner of the room and the Doctor left, turning on his heel smartly.

Franks indicated we should depart also and we did into the study where I for one welcomed another sherry - though Eddie who was definitely green at the gills declined asking for a ginger beer.

It was some while before the trio emerged, Hildebrand refaced - and red-bummed - and solemn looking. The others looking knowing with twinkles in their eyes. Then they shook hands with him with great formality. It was clear we were expected to do the same but Eddie and I could not look him in the eye as we followed suit for some reason I could not fathom.

After a stiff whisky Hilde was led off by Franks to be cleaned up.

A gong sounded.

"Grub up boys!"

So we were led by Tony and Watson (whose nickname was "Wart" we soon discovered) into the dining room - a room we had only entered on a Sunday for dinner with the Doctor and the Dame - usually a cold and cheerless affair.

That night was a much more jolly affair, despite the pre-dinner games. eddie and I were each sat between one of the four older "boys". Hildebrand when he arrived was surprisingly cheerful and chatty and we had a pleasant evening - although we could still feel our stripes through our shorts and were given hard chairs to ensure it . It was pronounced that we had both had enough strong drink for, one evening so had to make do with ginger beer. The Doctor did not join us which we did not understand but the Captain did. Indeed he sat at the head of the table!

I quietly asked Tony during a noisy how this was and what part he played in the proceedings.

" Ah - Hawkins was mine and Wart's fagmaster at ---------- (he named a famous public school). He's never been one for anything but the giving end - he did enjoy swishing us so - usually with our bags down too! He stands in for the Doctor quite a lot. the Doc never mixes with us socially - he doesn't want to be seen to relax in front of us and the Captain wields a sharp stick and strap on his own account.

Eddie and I could verify that alright!

When the last course had been served and the gentlemen were drinking their port the conversation took an interesting tone.

The Captain it was who said," You know if junior boys are to join us on Saturday's on a regular basis I am not sure it should be on such an equal basis as tonight or without their providing some contribution to the evening's entertainment."

" What have you in mind sir?" We noticed the others were courteous but not reverent in their dealings with the Captain.

" Well, for a start they could serve at table, suitably attired, and if they make any little mistakes appropriate treatment could be meted out - just top enliven things!"

" Perhaps we could discuss that a little more when....?"

" Yes - Forrest and Perceval time for you to go to bed. Tony and Wart perhaps you would escort them?"

" A pleasure sir."

" Oh sir do we have to sir - its such fun."

" Yes sir could we not stay a little longer?"

" No arguing - I should not have to say this twice - off!! Richardson and Watson - do your duty if you please!"

At this we were collared by our left ears by the respective escort and frogmarched out and up stairs - half protesting half giggling and joined Peter who must have been in bed some time by now and who was amused at what then took place.

First they made sure we changed and washed properly -though not as fussy as The Dame and Perkins they were fairly firm.So we made ready to say our prayers - not our usual trick unless there were witnesses, and knelt by the side of our beds, but they interrupted.

" No need for false piety we know the drill same as you."

" Thanks chaps - and thanks for this evening smashing time!"

" Yes rather - jolly good fun!"

" Ah yes well its not quite over is it Wart."

" No Tony I think not- we have an outstanding duty I believe."

At this we were grabbed by each of them, hauled up from our knees over our beds and over one knee as they rested a leg on the bed - our feet were both off the floor and our heads right on the counterpane. In a trice our nightshirts were ripped up and over our heads and their hands were raining down on our bare bottoms for a goodnight spanking!

In between smacks we were told off good and proper.

" When the Captain says get off you go see!"

" No jaw or backchat!"

" You jump or else you get your bottoms' smacked!"

" So remember next time."

In between we "ow"ed and "ah"ed and "Ouch"ed but more for the surprise and sudden indignity and for the fact that our chums had pounced in a way so contrasting with their earlier conversation.

After about five minutes solid spanking we were pulled up and passed each to the other and spanked anew over a fresh knee facing the other way so both sides of our bottoms were well and truly reddened.

Peter was by now sat up in bed enjoying this unscripted entertainment for all it was worth!

At the conclusion our shouts subsided, for it really began to hurt, especially as our morning's stripes flared up again. We did not want to blub whatever happened! We just managed it but were a trifle subdued when we were let up.

" Message understood boys?"

Tony was very masterful when he wanted to be.

We nodded looking down at our feet, hands rubbing our backsides.

" Turn round both of you. Bend over hands on knees. Lift up their shirts Wart. Yes a nice sight - that should keep 'em quiet tonight. Into bed smartly now and off to sleep - no talking.

For once we did as we were told - we were tired and sleepy. peter we told gruffly would have to wait to hear about the day's events. We had not in fact determined what to tell him.

As predicted sleeping on one's back was not comfortable at all and we nodded off on our tums.

Early the morning I woke with a start. I was sure I had heard a loud bang - then Ow! my behind where the cane had cut in - " No must have been a dream." and so went back to sleep.......

When Sunday came Eddie and I woke stiff and sore in our backsides. We felt bruised even though we were not as a visible enspectio showed - though we both had many long red and purple weals. These marks were indeed still partially visible three weeks later.

Matins was a terrible trial on the hard wooden pews. We kept wriggling to relieve the pressure, incurring sharp looks of displeasure from the Doctor.

Otherwise it was a quiet day indeed by our standards. we had decided to limit our tale to Peter to our beatings and schoolwork. The two young men who had spanked us in front of him in the dormitory were, we said, visiting prefects from our new big-schools. A bit thin but could you do better?

That evening we dined, all three of us, with the Doctor and the Dame - the usual undemonstrative affair. But as we were eating our pudding the Dame spoke.

" You know a very worrying happened this morning."

The Doctor looked quizzical.

" The geyser is Perkins' bathroom nearly blew up - soot and dust everywhere! The thing obviously does not work as it should. "

I choked and my dinner went down the wrong way.