Of all the CP scenarios I have been involved in, both in fact and fiction, a boy being caned on his bare behind by an authoritative male figure is the most stimulating. Perhaps because it happened to me when I was about twelve and for the next forty years I constantly tried to recreate it. These days it is mainly in stories that I nervously lower my pants for that exquisite sting. This one, written in 2010, is one of them. Alfred Roy
The Headmaster's Dilemma
The
Headmaster read the appropriate minute again. He had read it three times, or it
may have been four, and he almost knew its telling words by heart. He recalled
the meeting when the matter of corporal punishment had been discussed some
years before. He had been headmaster for only a few months at the time and a
decision on a vexed subject was required. Society was changing, legislation
was, if not imminent, on the political agenda and lines were being drawn on
both sides. Split between the traditionalists and the trendies his staff were a
microcosm of a changing world. Corporal punishment of schoolboys was a last
resort which was rapidly fading from fashion. Should his school, his new
school, anticipate the changing times with a blast of modernism or retain, in
some form, the ultimate sanction. His new staff, trendies and traditionalists
alike, waited with bated breath the guidance and opinion of their young and
progressive headmaster, He did not disappoint. He moved with the times but kept
a steady foot in the rituals and rules of the past. A cane could still strike
the bottoms of uncontrollable boys at his school but only by him or his deputy
and only when there was no alternative. A compromise which totally satisfied
none, but a compromise that both sides could accept. The hard liners could
relax with the thought the cane was not completely abolished and the others
could console themselves with the view that it would never be used again.
Honour to all. Unless there was no alternative. That was the crux. He read the
minutes of that old and distant meeting for a fourth or fifth time and wondered
why it was that those who employed the cane when required were always
considered to be hard liners. It can be so much harder to invoke other means of
expressing ones disapproval.
‘Extract from minutes of meeting 276/9 –
Section 3/Para4 –Restrictions on the use of the Cane.
-
With effect from the date of this meeting Corporal
Punishment of any boy under the age of fourteen years is immediately abolished.
Boys aged between fourteen and the day prior to their eighteenth birthday may
be referred to the headmaster or deputy headmaster for any disciplinary
sanction he or they wish to employ. Such sanctions, if determined by the
headmaster or deputy headmaster in consultation with the referring master, may
include the issuing of an order of Corporal Punishment. In such instances only
the official school cane may be used and all such enactments must be carried
out in private with two independent staff witnesses. No more than four strokes
of the cane can be applied for any individual transgression and no boy can be
subject to more than two orders for Corporal Punishment in any school year.
Multiple transgressions can be included in any one order but in such instances
the total penalty applied must not exceed eight strokes. All applications of
the cane will be applied to the boy’s clothed posterior, or as determined by
the headmaster, and will be carried out within twenty four hours of the order.
No boy attaining the age of eighteen years may be caned.- Ref 276/934
In
all the years since the heated meeting in which the vexed issue was minuted
only three boys in the school had been made subject of the special order and
none had received more than four strokes of the official school cane across
their trousers. As much as he found the use of the cane distasteful the
headmaster had to agree with his deputy that in all the cases the punishment
was well deserved. After the first such caning, a boy who had demanded money
from younger boys, the headmaster deferred to his deputy and the subsequent two
canings were carried out by a man who had more enthusiasm for the task. At
those canings tearful boys rubbing well scolded bottoms left his study and he
reflected that the youthful extortionist, subsequently expelled for similar
offences, had been let off lightly. But now the headmaster had a dilemma. He
had to cane a boy who had done nothing wrong and he had to do it before
legislation to abolish such a scholastic act was introduced. And that was little
more than a few weeks away. It is little wonder that he had been trawling
through the minutes of an inglorious past.
The
boy read the letter again. He had read it three times, or it may have been
four, and he almost knew its telling words by heart. He considered the
implications, the painful implications, and the financial consequences. He was
nearly seventeen and had been at the school for almost six years. And the
considerable fees had been paid for by a man he had never met. The half brother
of his long dead father had paid the relevant fees for all of his growing years
and, as his mother constantly reminded him, they should both be permanently
grateful. And now the half brother had died and for weeks and months both he and
his mother worried that the payments would cease and his privileged schooling
would end. But a last letter to his mother from the anonymous uncle assured
them both that the fees would continue to be met until the boy’s eighteenth
birthday. The letter, from a man who knew he would shortly draw his final
breath, also assured them both that arrangements had been made to ensure a
financially secure future. The worrying weeks and months could be set aside.
And then came the letter to him. From his uncle’s solicitor. And he read it
again and still did not understand. The first part, outlining a successful and
rich life of his benefactor, caused no difficulties. It was the final
paragraphs which engendered thoughts of painful implications and financial
consequences.
‘Your uncle was not an orthodox man and
he had many unorthodox and, frankly, rigid and incomprehensible values. But his
support for you in your educational years has never wavered. The memory of your
father, his half brother, determined his resolve never to allow you to suffer.
But now, perversely, to come to your part of his considerable estate you must
do exactly that. He was convinced that his commercial success was due in no
small part to the fact that, many years ago, he was severely caned by his
headmaster for a sin that he never amplified either to me or anyone else. But,
in his own words, often quoted ‘It was the best five minutes I ever spent in my
life. Bending over and getting that cane on my backside taught me things I have
never forgotten. There is no finer lesson to a boy about to become a man. I
hated that caning at the time but now, every time I count my money, I profusely
thank the man who did it.’ They quoted this comment in his obituary and, in his
adopted country, he became almost famous for it. It should, therefore, come as
no surprise that a condition of you inheriting his estate is that you accept
and suffer the same experience. I will therefore be contacting your headmaster
in due course.’
And
in due course, he did.
‘An
unusual legacy.’
‘Yes
sir.’
‘Or
an unusual condition placed on a legacy. Either way it makes for uncomfortable
reading.’
‘Yes
sir.’
‘I
shall, of course, write to your solicitor informing him that the request, or
instruction, cannot possibly be carried out.’
‘Yes
sir.’
‘We
do not do things like this in England
‘No
sir.’
‘An
application to any court would, in my opinion, see the unusual conditions of
the bequest set aside.’
‘Yes
sir.’
‘And
besides.’
‘Sir?’
‘In
a few weeks time such action, even if approved of by an unreasonable judge,
would be illegal. In this country.’
‘Yes
sir.’
‘So
you have no need to worry.’
‘No
sir.’
The
headmaster reflected that it had been a strange interview. The boy seemed more
disappointed than relieved that he was not about to be caned. Given the
financial implications of his step uncle’s will and the tongue of his
overbearing mother he probably considered that a short and sharp pain to his
backside was the easiest and quickest option. His bottom may briefly burn and
he may shed a few tears but, as the sting subsided, he would be the possessor
of a considerable fortune. A small price to pay. Whereas the headmaster’s
approach seemed rich with legalistic complications. If the boy did not think
like this, and he was only sixteen and three quarters, then the headmaster
certainly did. But it was not as simple as that. If it was, the headmaster
could merely sign a form to the effect that the required caning had been
carried out, even though nothing of the kind had taken place. But the
conditions of the bequest made things more difficult and therefore, in the
opinion of the headmaster, needed to be challenged in an English court. If
necessary.
‘Let
us get this clear headmaster. The conditions of the bequest are that a senior
official from the uncle’s company flies over here to witness the caning. Do you
know who that would be?’
‘The
company secretary. A lawyer.’
‘Ah.
And he signs a form to the effect that the boy has been caned by his headmaster
in accordance with the instructions.’
‘Quite.’
‘Twelve
strokes of a rattan cane on his backside.’
‘His
bare backside.’
‘His
bare backside, yes. And after that the boy gets his inheritance?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well
I could do it if you didn’t feel up to it.’
The
headmaster smiled but said nothing.
‘In
the circumstances I would go easy on him.’
‘The
company lawyer might not agree to that. In his country such disciplines tend to
leave serious weals.’
‘I
always marked the backsides I walloped, headmaster. Even when I did not use
full force. The last boy I caned told me he had the stripes across his arse for
weeks.’
The
headmaster studied his enthusiastic deputy and decided that it was a past
conversation he had no desire to pursue. He had contacted the solicitor and
received a fairly curt and pedantry reply. If the boy did not comply with the
conditions of the will it would be impossible to release the funds and a long
and protracted legal case between two countries with differing cultures seemed
the likely outcome. As if echoing his own earlier thoughts the solicitor had commented
that a few quick taps on a young backside seemed a small price to pay to avoid
such complications.
‘If
it has to be done then I, as headmaster, will have to do it. The instructions
make that clear. But I am still hoping for a compromise.’
He
was dwelling much on that compromise when, a week later, he interviewed the boy
for a second time.
‘They
would not agree.’
‘No
sir. I didn’t think they would.’
‘They
would not agree to you not being caned.’
‘No
sir.’
‘They
would not agree to the caning being symbolic.’ The headmaster paused. ‘Less
harsh.’
‘No
sir.’
‘Or
the strokes being reduced.’
‘No
sir.’
‘And
they would not agree to you retaining an element of dignity.’
‘No
sir.’
‘So
it is to be twelve strokes of their choice of cane, delivered to your exposed
backside.’
‘Yes
sir.’
‘Which
causes me a considerable dilemma.’
‘Sir?’
‘Who
is to do it?’
‘I
thought it would be you sir.’
‘It
cannot.’
‘Why
not sir?’
‘I
could not bring myself to do it. Not under their stringent conditions,
conditions which breach the disciplinary rules of this school.’
The
boy looked concerned and the headmaster anticipated his thoughts.
‘I
could not do it. Not even for your inheritance and your mother.’
‘No
sir.’
‘But
I have thought of a compromise. One that I am sure will be acceptable to their
solicitors.’
‘Sir?’
‘You
will be transferred to a new school. Next week. It will be arranged as a
permanent move but you will be allowed to return here next term. I have spoken
to their headmaster, the brother of my deputy, and he has agreed to cane you.
It will fulfil all the conditions of your uncle’s strange legacy.’
‘And
if I do not agree? Sir.’
‘You
have no choice. Your mother has approved the arrangements.’
The
boy moved towards the door with some sadness.
‘I
would prefer to stay here sir.’
‘I
know you would. I would also prefer that.’
‘And
I can. All you have to do is cane me as they say.’
‘I
could not do it. I could not do it well. And they would see that.’
The
boy paused, his hand on the handle of the study door.
‘Even
if I gave you reason.’
‘I
cannot think of anything you could do which would make me wish to cane you. In
that way. In that manner.’
‘No
sir.’
‘So
go and pack your belongings.’
‘Yes
sir.’
The
boy opened the door and, before departing, turned back to the headmaster. His
eyes were full of tears. The tears of boy who had been told he would not be caned.
Not at this school.
‘I
shall have to think of a reason, sir. I shall have to think of something that
would make you cane me.’
And
with these parting words to his headmaster he closed the door.
The
headmaster looked at the cheque again and still did not believe what he saw. It
was drawn on the account of the boy’s mother and dated from the first day of
the following term. He re-read the letter that was attached to it and, picking
up his study phone, summoned his deputy to his office. Ten minutes later,
apprised of the contents of the letter and the details of the cheque, his
deputy gave his opinion to the headmaster. What he had to say was unpleasant
but expected.
‘I
think that clinches it headmaster. You will have to cane the boy.’
‘Meaning
every man has his price?’
‘For
the good of the school. The cheque is for £10,000.’
‘But
only if I cane him.’
The
headmaster emphasised the ‘I’ and let it contain all the distaste that he had
constantly felt ever since this protracted matter first emerged.
‘The
letter makes that clear. If the boy is transferred to my brother’s school and
he is caned there he will not pass any of his legacy to his mother.’
‘And
so the cheque, if presented, will not be honoured?’
‘No.’
‘But
if I do it?’
‘Then
it will. The mother’s letter makes that clear.’
The
deputy headmaster paused and then continued.
‘He
is going to be caned headmaster, whether you do it or my brother does it.
Follow his wishes and the school gets a considerable sum.’
‘But
only if I do it in the manner decreed in the instructions?’
‘It
is a small price to pay for such a large cheque, headmaster.’
And
on that point the deputy left the headmaster to muse, once more, on his
dilemma.
‘You
knew I would send for you?’
‘Yes
sir.’
‘You
are causing me considerable pain.’
‘Yes
sir.’
‘I
had no, have no, wish to cane you. I understand your complying with your
uncle’s strange legacy. It is a very large sum to inherit. But to transfer to
another school for the caning to be carried out would have been a more
satisfactory solution.’
‘Yes
sir.’
‘As
it is you have….’
‘Sir?’
‘You
have placed me in a difficult situation.’
‘Yes
sir.’
‘And
yet, in a convoluted way, you have also resolved it.’
‘I
hope so sir.’
‘If
I do not cane you then the school loses the bequest that you and your mother
are transferring to us next term. So I will do as is required.’
‘Yes
sir.’
‘And
I will fulfil all the conditions.’
‘Yes
sir.’
‘And
I will make it hurt. I will not hold back.’
‘No
sir.’
The
headmaster looked at the boy’s impassive face. The face of a boy who knew he
had won.
‘I
will not hold back.’
‘No
sir.’
‘I
will cane your bottom hard because as you know I never wanted to cane it at
all.’
‘No
sir.’
‘And
you have forced my hand.’
‘Yes
sir.’
‘Have
you anything else to say?’
The
boy thought for a moment before speaking.
‘Only
this sir. Fulfil the conditions and I will honour my mother’s letter. If it has
to done, and it clearly must, I could only accept it if it was done by you. It
will lessen the pain and the humiliation.’
‘Do
not be too sure of that.’
‘No
sir. But it will lessen the humiliation.’
The
headmaster looked at the boy’s slightly flushed, but still impassive, face
again and registered a momentary understanding. He moved to him and gently
placed his hand the boy’s shoulder.
‘You
may go. I will make the arrangements.’
‘Yes
sir.’
‘And
be brave. That means that you need not be afraid to cry. It may help.’
‘Yes
sir.’
Twenty
minutes after the boy departed the headmaster started to compose a difficult
and delicate letter to a distant solicitor.
The
day after the boy was caned, all the arrangements having been satisfactorily made
and carried out, the headmaster went for one of his long regular walks around
the grounds of the school. The caning of the boy had left a deep impression on
his conscience and the prospect of a substantial cheque had served to enhance,
rather than assuage, his troubled thoughts. These thoughts were interrupted by
his deputy, returning from a regular daily exercise which, the headmaster
noted, did little to inhibit the signs of a comfortable middle age.
‘How
are you feeling headmaster?’
‘Fine.
It is a fine evening. A good one for your evening run for a change.’
‘I
mean after yesterday.’
‘It
is over. At least we can be thankful for that.’
‘And
a substantial cheque will be coming our way.’
‘Yes.
I suppose I should be grateful.’
‘At
least you shouldn’t feel guilty.’
‘Am
I?’
‘The
boy did not mind.’
The
headmaster stared at the reddened face of his deputy, only now recovering his
breath from his exertions.
‘He
seemed very distressed to me.’
‘Who
wouldn’t be after that? Twelve strokes of a cane to your bare backside when you
have probably never even had as much as a housemaid’s slap in the whole of your
life. I thought you did it very well in the circumstances. Laid it on as hard
as I ever did.’
‘Did
that surprise you?’
‘No.
But the boy did not mind.’
‘So
you said.’
‘I
saw him this morning. Fully recovered. Just a bit sore he said.’
The
deputy chuckled and the headmaster responded quickly.
‘You
find it amusing?’
‘Boys
are strange creatures. All this troubles you, and all he says is that when he
looked at the stripes on his bottom he realised what his uncle meant. Said he
would go through it all again if he had to.’
‘That
won’t be necessary.’
‘He
also said that he was glad that it was you that caned him. It made it
bearable.’
‘Then
at least one of us is happy.’
After
that particular comment the deputy shrugged his shoulders and went off for his
evening shower. Clearly he did not think corporal punishment of schoolboys was
any big deal and, judged by the comments, neither did the boy who was the
subject of their discussion. In different circumstances the headmaster might
feel the same but the experience of the previous day was one he had no desire
to repeat.
‘You
know why you are here?’
‘Yes
sir.’
‘And
you wish to go through with it?’
‘Yes
sir.’
‘Then
we will not waste any time. Take off your school blazer and place it on the
chair,’
‘Yes
sir.’
The
boy looked around the headmaster’s study. There were four people in the room
other than himself. As well as the headmaster and his deputy, both standing by
the desk, his uncle’s solicitor was standing by a small side window cleaning
his tiny round spectacles with a silky white handkerchief. He had met the
solicitor a couple of times over the past few weeks but the fourth man he did
not know. As he placed his blazer on the chair the headmaster introduced him as
a representative of his uncle’s company. The company lawyer who had to agree
that all had been enacted as required. He had sat, large and impassive and
silent, in a corner seat when the boy came into the study. As the blazer was
removed he stood up and moved towards the solicitor.
‘There
is no need to remove your trousers but it will be best if you lower them before
you bend over my desk.’
‘Yes
sir.’
‘And
bend over from the front of the desk, facing the back wall.’
The
headmaster paused and as he did so the boy saw, for the first time, the cane he
had produced from behind his back. He did not know it but the cane was a two
foot six inches long and medium thick rattan cane specially brought over by the
impassive company lawyer. No detail had been left unattended. The headmaster,
his voice strangely thick and breathless, continued.
‘It
is important that everyone in this room gets a good view of your caning.’
‘Yes
sir.’
‘When
you are in position my deputy will hold onto your wrists to enable you to take
all of your…, all of your caning without any unnecessary interruption. Do you
understand?’
The
headmaster had nearly said punishment but such a word seemed inappropriate. The
boy was not being punished. If anyone was being punished it was him.
‘Yes
sir’
‘Then
do as I say. And you had best lower your underpants as well. It is a condition
of the caning.’
‘Yes
sir.’
The
boy moved towards the desk and to the four waiting figures enacted out his
small defining scene. He undid the belt of his long grey school trousers and
releasing the buttons of the fly pushed them firmly down to his ankles. He then
placed his hands under his pale blue school shirt and pulled down an equally
pale blue pair of regulation underpants. He pushed these down his pale legs to
join his crumpled trousers and stretched himself firmly across the surface of
the desk. He had made no attempt to lift up his school shirt and the area he
knew would shortly suffer unfamiliar pain remained decently covered. The deputy
headmaster moved towards his bending head and gently but firmly held onto his
wrists. The headmaster watched these proceedings and then enquired,
unnecessarily, if all were ready, and approached the prostrate boy. He said
nothing but lifted the tail of the boy’s shirt and rolled it to his waist. The
boy, acutely conscious of this final baring of his lower body, lifted slightly
to allow the shirt to make an easy journey of uncovering. Someone in the room
coughed.
The
headmaster had no wish to mark the sight which met his eyes but equally he had
no wish to prolong any agony. The round, beautifully smooth, pale brown cheeks
of the boy’s buttocks captured everyone’s attentions. Such lower perfection in
the boy suggested that sacrilege was about to be committed. Not a blemish, or
stain, or spot detracted from the glory of his naked skin. But nature had
always decreed that this was the area designed for chastisement and nature was
now about to get its wish. In a few moments the smooth and cold rattan cane
would gently rest on the warm and trembling cheeks and the first strike of a
strange legacy would, literally, make its mark. For a moment the even pale
brown skin across the back and the buttocks made the headmaster wonder if the
boy sunbathed nude, but the moment passed and he raised the cane in readiness.
‘Please
compose yourself. And be brave. You are to be given twelve strokes across your
naked behind, as you yourself requested and the conditions of your uncle’s will
requires. They will hurt but it will not take long. Are you ready?’
‘Yes
sir.’
The
words were hardly out of the boy’s mouth when the first stroke struck his
backside. It was as if the headmaster was eager to commence the proceedings and
it took everyone, not least the boy who suffered it, by surprise. He gasped and
lifted his left leg slightly as if to ease the pain but, other than that, there
was no movement and there was no sound. The stroke had been clean and true, and
hard, and as it seemed to echo in the air a clear red line painted itself
across the centre of the upturned cheeks. It did not sound its pain but the
vividness of its colour spoke loudly to all who watched. The second and third
strokes fell equally quickly but after that the headmaster slowed his pace and
allowed the boy to absorb each individual shock to his system. By the fourth
stroke the buttocks, now twisting and turning, were beginning a fiery glow within
the lines across them and by the eighth, or it may have been the ninth, the boy
was clearly crying. The deputy headmaster was by now holding on grimly to the
arms and hands which begged for release but he did so silently and intently.
Other than the sound of the cane hitting its delicate target and the subsequent
groans of increasing distress from the boy the room was silent. None of the
four men spoke until the last stroke of the twelve had fallen across the naked
bottom and, released, the boy had recovered himself and left. It took some
time. He had hopped around the room and rubbed his bottom with a violent vigour
and then, quickly calming, pulled up his underpants and trousers and begged to
be excused. The headmaster had no wish to detain him and he held the hands of
the tearstained boy and told him he had been very brave and let him go. And the
boy had been brave. But, in his own way, so had the headmaster. And all in the
room silently acknowledged that fact.
‘Thank
you for the cheque. It arrived last week. We are very grateful.’
‘Thank
you sir. The school deserves it.’
‘And
you have no regrets?’
‘No
sir. Should I?’
‘It
is a large sum of money.’
‘Yes
sir, but small compared to my uncle’s estate.’
‘And
you are happy with the way you earned it?’
‘I
am sir. I would be happier if I knew that you were comfortable with the way you
earned your small part.’
‘It
is hardly small. £10,000. It did occur to me that there was a possibility you
might not send it. In which case I would have caned you for nothing.’
‘I
could not do that sir.’
‘No,
of course not. It was an uncharitable thought for such an honourable boy.’
‘If
I was to be caned, especially in that way, it had to be you that did it. As I
said it was a small price to pay.’
‘And
you have no regrets. I mean the caning?’
‘No
sir. I would go through it all again if necessary.’
‘So
my deputy said.’
‘Yes
sir.’
‘In
spite of the pain? And the humiliation?’
‘There
was no humiliation sir. What you did was an act of love for this school. It
made it bearable.’
‘You
didn’t give that impression at the time.’
‘I
was being caned on my bare bottom at the time. Sir.’
The
boy smiled, the first time he had since being summoned to the headmaster’s
study following receipt of the promised cheque.
‘Yes.’
The
headmaster smiled.
‘You
may go. And thank you again for the cheque.’
‘Thank
you sir.’
The
boy turned to go and then turned back.
‘Sir?’
‘Yes?’
‘What
would you have done if I had not sent you the cheque?’
‘I
do not know. Probably got my deputy to give you a second thrashing.’
‘In
spite of the new regulations?’
‘I
am sure we could have got around that.’
After
the boy left the headmaster mused on their conversation and everything that had
led up to it. He was not happy that the boy had been caned and he would have preferred
it not to have been done. But, strangely, if it had to be so, he was glad it
was he who carried the caning out. It was what the boy wanted and, now it was
over, he was glad he was the one to cane him. Whatever else he owed the boy,
and the magnificent cheque to the school would bring great benefits, he owed
him gratitude for helping him to learn something of himself. The deeply
personal act that had taken place in his study told him that. The boy would
never forget his experience but neither would anyone else in that room. On the
day that vicious cane kissed the defenceless naked bottom of a perfectly
formed boy, four people learned many things about themselves. When he struck the soft and fetching cheeks, shamelessly exposed, his whole being inexplicably surged. And all he was aware of in himself was in all the others. The headmaster
was sure of that. The collective silence in the room, both during and after the caning, said so.The uncle’s strange legacy was far reaching.
Alfred Roy © 2010