You Shouldn't Be Surprised

You shouldn't be surprised by Castor©

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IN THE BEGINNING

You go to a posh school. You are twelve or thirteen when you arrive at the senior school. Those joining at the same time are pretty much the same as you – relatively small, usually trim and almost certainly lacking in self-confidence. There are of course a few of your number who fit into the category of `fat'. This is either a function of genetics or, more often than not, a reflection of overindulgence in confectionery, cream buns and the like. Some of you have already entered puberty while others are on the cusp. Progress is generally measured in the communal showers where the sprouting of pubic hair and the lengthening of one's organ is a sign of progress – presumably towards manhood.

Your dormitory accommodation is much the same as in the junior school, but nothing like home. The classrooms are much the same as before and the teachers differ only marginally from those you have had in the past: they know a lot of stuff which you don't but which you have to learn. You have prefects, house captains and the like. There is one difference however: `the cane'.

There is a certain aura surrounding corporal punishment. On the one hand, having a few strokes are one's bum can be a sign of bravado arising from some youthful jape. On the other they can be a sign of shame if brought about by cheating or bullying. In between there are whole range of offences which can incur a beating. Some are perhaps serious like being out of bounds, but others are quite ridiculous like walking on the grass in the quadrangle. One learns quite quickly what is permitted and what is not and generally a first offence might result in detention rather than `the cane'.

In this hothouse environment there is another dimension or two of which you are not aware – at least not at first. One dimension is the temperament of your teachers. You learn quickly which ones have a degree of tolerance and those who have a short fuse. The other dimension is lust which is something of which you have no experience. Older boys and the occasional teacher sometimes have a disposition towards youthful buttocks or an angelic face, and only time will tell whether these predators will focus on you.

Always in the back of one's mind as these characteristics emerge and new experiences occur is the knowledge that one day you will be at the top of the heap. It is for this reason that you accept the pettiness, unwanted attention and the discipline.

It takes one a little while to work out how the machine that is the school operates. Rumours abound of course and one has to be diligent in trying to sort fact from fiction. Time is the essential dynamic in learning what is true what is not, and after a week or two when one of your peers is called upon to show two or three stripes across his backside from having met the cane your learning process advances. The hapless victim explains how painful caning can be, what procedure is adopted and how lingering is the discomfort. It is immediately apparent to everyone in attendance that a caning does not necessarily involve turning one's backside into something resembling hamburger mince: one rumour is dismissed.

Being young, one is of course a little rambunctious and that provides those in authority with plenty of excuses to give beatings if they so desire. Very few teachers would even think of wielding the cane. When one is sufficiently disorderly, disobedient or inattentive, the teacher's response is to send one to the deputy headmaster with a chit which explains the reason for your disturbing his day. There is a tried and true method of instilling fear into any boy and that is to ensure that he has quite a long wait before he finally enters the chamber in which his execution will occur.

The waiting process is the hardest. It is not painful of course – unlike the caning – but the uncertainty of exactly how one will fare builds in one's stomach and chest which results in sweaty palms, perhaps a sweaty back and most certainly the occasional rub across the object which is to be chastised. The other part of the waiting process that causes one a degree of angst is that other students pass you by as they move from one classroom to another. Some look at one rather quizzically wondering whether you are there because of some humorous jape, which is of course highly admirable, or whether you are to suffer because of some act of stupidity. Others look at you and wonder how your bum will look once you have been dealt with and yet others try to make one's terror even worse by making snide comments.

The deputy headmaster eventually summons you into his august presence and at first everything seems quite normal. He peremptorily demands your chit which explains your crime in just one or two words. Looking at you the deputy, who apparently has a photographic memory, judges whether this is your first appearance before him or not. He then proceeds to open a large ledger in which he inscribes your name, your offence, your sentence and the manner in which it is to be carried out. Only experience will tell you to look closely at what he writes. It is the third column which is the most important for in it he inscribes the number of strokes he intends to give. Advance knowledge of this can be of considerable benefit to one because it allows you to know when the end will come as you steal yourself for the agony which is inevitable.

One's first experience involves the unpleasant matter of watching the deputy headmaster go to the cupboard at the side of his room and extract from the top of it a whippy cane with which you are about to become regrettably familiar. One is then instructed to adopt the required position. For one's first visit this simply means placing one's hands on the two arms of a leather armchair which causes you to bend over just a tad. Subsequent visits will involve one placing one's hands on the seat of the dreaded armchair and, if one is particularly egregious in one's offence, subsequent visits might involve holding one's ankles. (One perpetual mystery is whether the fatter boys gain some advantage by not being able to reach their ankles.)

Of course one is tempted to try and observe what the deputy is doing, but that is inadvisable because it just increases one's sense of terror. Most of my peers would agree that one is far better off studying the pattern of the red leather armchair with great intensity so that the sound of the cane in the deputy's movements are not particularly apparent.

The first stroke across one's trousers is terribly deceptive. One feels the impact but there is no pain: that arrives a moment later as one's nervous system transmits the knowledge to one's brain. Even a whippy junior cane can startle one quite remarkably, and it requires concentration to remain in position and try to contain within one's throat any rising sound of protest. Subsequent strokes, more often than not two in number for a first offence, gives one the impression of having inadvertently sat on a hot griddle and a conviction that once you are free to depart you will find a burn marks across your otherwise unblemished bum.

Dismissal by the deputy headmaster is rather matter of fact although it comes with a warning to "buck up your ideas" which seems a very odd thing to say when one's offence was sending a spit ball across the classroom. It is not very dignified to rub one's wounded backside in the presence of others and therefore one naturally finds the first vacant, discreet spot in which to do so. The inevitable temptation to let slip a couple of tears has to be resisted of course: three stripes is not really a big deal.

One's friends generally display a degree of sympathy for the pain but behind that display of camaraderie one can discern a desperate desire on of their part to see the results of one's beating. However the time for that is in the dormitory at the end of the day where one's immediate friends can take liberties like feeling the heat generated by the stripes and perhaps even touching them. Such intimacy is not permitted in the showers where naturally enough everyone present observes the results of one's chastisement, and one is required to answer a series of questions regarding methodology, the extent of the pain, and whether one cried or not. With only three stripes, crying would be totally unacceptable and earn one a reputation for weakness which could last for years.

It doesn't take long for one to realise that the school is full of hypocrisy. In sports one finds the best example. Lectures at assemblies tell one that "it matters not if you win or lose; what matters is how you play the game". This sounds a noble principle, provided one is not responsible for losing.

The competition between the various school houses is fierce and the head boy in each house takes an exceptionally dim view if one is credited with making a mistake which proves pivotal to the outcome of a game – be it rugby, cricket or anything else for that matter. The apportionment of blame in a losing situation is left to the observing prefects, and one can be chosen as the responsible party either based on fact or for other, less honourable, considerations.

When one is held to be accountable for a sporting failure, a sort of court is convened where one is required to stand quietly whilst an account of one's indiscretions on the playing field is given. Generally, when one is young, the kangaroo court occurs at a time when one is dressed in one's pyjamas. The prefects, seemingly about six foot taller than you, often look at one as if you were something unpleasant that they had walked upon. On other occasions their looks are more confusing.

In one's first year a caning by the head boy or a prefect is always given over clothing. Rumour has it that that is a benefit which one discards in one's second year. Flannelette pyjamas provide a reasonable amount of protection in the event a cane is applied, but there is the alternative of the plimsoll available and for that one doesn't have the protection of flannelette. I avoided the cane for playing a bad cricket shot when one of the prefects pointed out that, although I lacked technique and the shot was ill-advised, the bowler was, to use his term, "rather fast". I had to bite my tongue to avoid the cardinal sin of speaking at that moment, although I desperately felt like pointing out that the bowler in question was operating near supersonic speed.

The hearing ended with a decision that I should be reminded of the need for keeping my focus on the ball and was passed off into the not so tender care of one of the junior prefects. He led me to his room where I had to lower my pyjama pants and I received three wallops with a plimsoll which must've been about size 40 (well probably twelve). I found the plimsoll to be extremely effective and my small, poor backside was well and truly red by the time I restored my pants and returned to the dormitory.

It is perhaps inevitable that boys of our age would make a certain amount of noise and get up to no good after lights out'. Telling jokes, preferably ones that were crude by our standards, was a favourite pastime as was making disparaging comments about our teachers and the senior students. This form of entertainment sometimes drew the ire of one of the prefects, but on most occasions we were simply told to shut up'. However there were occasions when our raucous behaviour caught the attention of one of those prefects who thought that a good walloping was an answer for everything. So we each had to stand at the end of our beds, lower our pyjama pants and accept several hearty blows with a plimsoll before the lights were turned out and we retired somewhat the worse for the experience.

As more of our number joined those of us in puberty and voices as well is testicles were dropped, the matter of sex inevitably arose. I assume it's the same at any school that the amount of factual knowledge is greatly outweighed by the amount of myths. That was certainly my experience and I found some of the assertions so outrageous that I felt compelled to sneak into the senior section of the library where books containing information on such matters were held. Now it is not acceptable behaviour to remove a book from a library without having it checked out by the Librarian but I could not really think of an explanation as to why I had a book of this particular nature. So rather than have it checked out I sought to smuggle it out amongst several other books from the junior section. My tactic was to hold the forbidden book between my knees while I had three others checked out in the normal fashion and then to insert the fourth book into the pile before I departed.

The tactic worked extremely well because I reached the dormitory without anyone noticing of the stolen tome. That night, during prep, I cautiously opened the index of the book and started looking at entries regarding the female anatomy. Now sometimes life is not fair and on this particular occasion it was exceptionally disagreeable for a hand upon my shoulder revealed that a prefect was quietly wandering through the hall discreetly observing what we were doing. Suffice it to say that the book and I were removed from prep unceremoniously and I found myself with a senior prefect and a very red face.

My explanation regarding my earnest desire to sort fact from fiction cut very little ice with the prefect but the fact that the card which should be with the Librarian was still in the book condemned my backside. The prefect, a tall gangling chap named Wise, berated me for my dishonesty but did not take issue with my motives.

I had heard about canings from prefects and I must say there was a distinct lack of ceremony involved on this particular occasion. The matter was resolved by my bending myself over the edge of his desk while he applied four rather painful strokes to the rear of my trousers. Needless to say I was dismissed without having the book restored to my position. I hastily repaired to the bogs to wash my face, jump about and then inspect the damage. I was surprised that the lines were not a deep shade of red given the amount of pain that I was registering. I had expected to find blood pouring out of my rear in torrents, such was my ignorance on such matters, but of course there was no such thing. In due course there were four deep bruises to show for my injudicious expedition to the senior part of the library.

YEARS TWO AND THREE

After the first year I returned to school rather pleased that I was slightly higher in the food chain and more self-confident about my place in the social structure and the order of things. I had a nice circle of friends and we managed to occupy a large portion of one dormitory together. We had all learnt during the first year the boundaries which we could push and those which would cause us grief if we even approached them. We had also developed into randy little buggers which was a source of both great pleasure and a certain amount of disquiet.

I don't know that it is fair to speak in generalities, although I do think it is true that we were all somewhat confused about our sexuality at that time. Our first tentative moves obviously took place in the dormitory but then progressed to the showers where the occasional touch – exploratory at best – occurred. But like a baby that learns to take its first step, others actions quickly followed. The ability to produce semen took on a competitive nature, although none of us was at all vocal about the images in our minds which produced sufficient stimulation to bring about such production. My closest friend, Peter, was charming and witty and, to my mind at least, exceptionally handsome. I didn't dare mention to him that the sight of him in the showers often featured in my mind when I was wanking after `lights out' or in the bogs several times each day. He never enquired and I certainly didn't offer such information.

It is rather peculiar how some things make themselves apparent and so it was regarding the sexual preferences of a number in our company.

Going to town was a privilege that was highly valued and we were generally respectful, courteous and polite whenever we left the school. However, some of the local lads had developed a very unsavoury habit of taunting our formal school uniform. At first we didn't let their jibes get under our skin but when they learned the coarse epithets about one's sexuality and used those words to embarrass us in public, our tempers wore thin. We managed to get through the first term without being provoked to the point of retaliation but early in the second term of the dam broke and a mini riot erupted. No serious damage was caused during our inexpert attempts at pugilism, but seven of us were reported by one of the prefects and none of us expected to avoid retribution.

There was obvious inequity involved in this matter because the local lads would not be held to account for their actions and for the fact that they provoked us beyond reason. The prefects appreciated that but determined that we had brought disgrace upon the school by reacting as we had. The seven of us stood and accepted the rebukes for our actions and listened to an earnest discussion amongst the prefects as to whether the matter should be referred to the headmaster.

That discussion was the most horrid I had experienced up to that point for the thought of being sent to the headmaster meant that, without exception, our backsides would be bared and subjected to the senior cane. The prevailing legend was that anyone experiencing such a beating would be unable to sit for at least five or six days. I think I was shaking at the thought of that outcome but fortunately the senior prefect, Johnston, decided that such extreme action was not required.

Procedurally we were required to wait in the corridor outside the room while Johnston and two others prepared to administer justice – or at least their perception of justice. We waited nervously in the corridor wiping the sweat on our hands on our black trousers and having a very quiet debate as to how many strokes of the cane we would receive and whether it would be a lightweight cane or the far heavier senior cane. I joked with Peter about my desire to send one of the junior boys to get me some more underwear to protect my delicate backside but my feeble attempt at levity seemed to fall short of the mark.

The prefects had been brought up through the ranks and knew of course that waiting was as dreadful as the cane, and Johnston and his compatriots kept us waiting for a good twenty minutes. Then we were ordered into the room and told to stand on either side of the doorway facing inwards.

I must say the view in the room was not encouraging for an arm chair had been placed towards the right-hand wall and my fertile, or perhaps feeble, brain took this to be a sign that our backsides were going to be in a very prominent position. That notion was confirmed when the first of our number was called forth and instructed to remove his trousers and underpants and to kneel on the leading edge of the armchair with his arms and head over its relatively low back. None of us anticipated the horror of having to the bare our backsides and I felt quite overwhelmed by that thought.

The very action of having to remove one's shoes when your hands are shaking like jelly in an earthquake necessarily takes time as does the fumbling with one's belt and flies. The discarding one's underpants takes no time at all. But the effect was to prolong everyone's agony.

Adams, the first of our number, assumed the requisite position over the armchair and, when his shirt was pulled up, his very fine backside mooned us all and I was not the only one to find the sight somewhat enthralling. The white, alabaster skin didn't remain unblemished for very long as Johnston took a cane, and made a couple of short steps and then brought it down with incredible force across Adams' bared flesh. Quite naturally our friend bucked a little as the fire raced across his cheeks but I think we all appreciated the fact that the Johnston had decided to use a junior cane on our fundaments.

Adams endured five more strokes muttering under his breath at each of the last three and then was allowed to dismount. He was told to pick up his clothes and shoes and to come and join us whilst the next lad was dealt with. As Adams' gingerly made his way to where we were standing I couldn't help but notice that he, like me, evidenced a certain amount of excitement in the groin area, which I found very peculiar on both our parts. My eyes followed Adams as he took his place and it was then that I noticed significant lumps in the front of the trousers of several of our number.

The caning in front of us diverted my attention from matters of a sexual nature. Adams had set the bar for stoicism fairly high and the other six of us clearly had to try and achieve that standard. Barclay, the second to be thrashed, managed quite well as did the lad who followed him.

I hadn't realised until my turn came that we were being punished in alphabetical order and once I was in position I was exceptionally grateful for the fact that a senior cane was not being used. The junior cane had a ferocious bight when it didn't have to be concerned with underwear, trousers or pyjamas. Like the others I tried to be as stoical as possible but the fourth stroke was particularly low and hit the crease at the bottom of my backside and I let fly with a "fuck!" before I knew what I was doing. I thought I had let the side down, but later my friends would tell me that the blow had been particularly cruel and they understood my reaction.

After the beatings were completed my friends were allowed to dress and leave as were the two prefects who had observed our collective execution. Johnston told me to remain behind and I watched with a touch of sorrow as my classmates left.

Johnston was decidedly unimpressed by my language and had me resume my position on the dreaded armchair while he delivered an extra stroke to my already damaged backside. The lecture I received was rather predictable and I resolved to keep my feelings in check should I ever again experienced such a beating.

That night all seven of us were treated by our peers as having been somewhat heroic in engaging with the local boys in fisticuffs. We showed our stripes with a certain amount of pride that evening although each of us was still feeling exceptionally sore. We decided as a group to take our minds of our distress by going to the bogs and having a collective wank which I must say made me feel considerably better.

Throughout the balance of the year corporal punishment continued in relative moderation. Competition between the houses moved from the cricket pitch to the rugby field in due course and there was a certain amount of payback involved in certain of the scrums and rucks, and on more than one occasion fights erupted and backsides suffered accordingly. Life went on pretty much as usual although our sexual inquisitiveness continued to haunt us.

In the third year I found my sexual footing as it were. The incident began when some of us were playing with stones on the driveway that went around the building in which we were housed. It was all very innocent and the idea was to bounce a flat stone of one of the cobblestones and see how far you could make it go. It certainly didn't occur to any of us at that cobblestones had raised edges and that one of our pebbles might go off at a tangent should it hit an edge. As luck would have it I was the first to find out that it was quite possible for a pebble to hit the edge of a cobblestone and make a rather obvious hole in an adjacent glass window. There was no question of avoiding the consequences of course and the honourable thing was for me to report my misdeed to the senior prefect in the house.

I acted accordingly and went upstairs and knocked on Foster's door. Foster had not heard the sound of the window shattering two floors below and listened patiently as I explained how I was responsible for the lack of glass in the window frame concerned.

At the age of fifteen, nearly sixteen, I had developed what might be viewed as an unhealthy appreciation of the male body and Foster represented as close to perfection as I had ever seen. His perfection came not solely from his classical beauty but to me involved his intellect, wit and athleticism. I had seen him in the showers at the sports pavilion so I was well acquainted with his physical characteristics, but it had been in discussions with him at meetings of the debating society and the chess club that I came to appreciate, and rather adore, his other virtues.

It went without saying that my stupidity down in the driveway was going to result in a sore backside upstairs in Foster's room, but I was surprised at the degree of reluctance he expressed as he informed me that I should remove my trousers and underpants in preparation for a beating. I couldn't understand why a man in his position of authority should have any reservations whatsoever about thrashing some lad's bum. I took off my shoes, my trousers and my underpants and awaited further instruction. I couldn't quite understand why it was that my shaft was growing in size and starting to rise up, and I felt ashamed of such a display in front of a prefect. Yet Foster looked kindly at me or, more particularly, at my condition and there was a hint, I believe, of an attraction far more significant than that which existed between Peter and me.

I do believe now that Foster was confused by his own feelings, but at the time that thought didn't occur to me. Upon being instructed to do so I draped myself over the edge of his rather large desk and followed his instructions regarding the position of my feet, the width between them and the extent to which my backside was thrust out. Breakage of a window was a serious matter and Foster clearly intended a serious chastisement. Despite my youth, or perhaps because of it, he decided upon the use of a senior cane which was clearly intended to cause me as much grief as possible.

Yet before he began Foster needed to remove the tail of my shirt which was covering part of my backside and I found it rather thrilling when he used his hands to do so. Indeed his hands seemed to glide over a large portion of my backside prior to removing the tail of my shirt and had I been in a less distressed condition I might have provoked something which both of us may have found pleasurable and instructive.

The moment passed and was lost forever. The cane whistled through the air with unerring accuracy which one would expect of a young man of Foster's age and experience, but the pain it imparted was far greater than I had anticipated. My head reared up in response to the first stroke but in the interregnum before the next one another portion of my body seemed to rear up a little as well. I was only vaguely conscious of it since the pain in my rear consumed almost all of my mental capacity.

The further five strokes were parallel with one another and scorched my bum to the extent that I would swear that six red hot pokers had been laid across my tender flesh. When Foster came and ran his hand over my backside as if to inspect the damage and ensure that there was no bleeding, I found the action comforting in a strange way but far more erotic than might be considered normal. Between my legs the evidence of my response was only too evident, but I assumed that when I stood up my shirt would conceal my grubby secret.

In such circumstances it is perhaps natural for one to be misguided since one's brain is consumed with a red mist of agony. I eased myself into an upright position and turned in the direction of my discarded garments, wondering just how painful it was going to be when I bent over to pick up my underwear and trousers. To my horror, as I looked in the direction of my clothes, the pink head of my erection was poking through the two ends of my shirt front. In some situations that might be a reason for some mirth because it must have looked rather odd peeking out in search of what one wouldn't know. But in the present circumstance it was simply a source of embarrassment and one which Foster clearly observed.

Seeking to be helpful, but perhaps seeking something else, Foster knelt in front of me and picked up my garments and assisted me to put them on although, at the crucial moment when my underpants reached my knees, he left me to my own devices. Even today I wonder how close the two of us came to either dalliance or something more significant. That did not occur and I parted with a strange mix of thoughts in my mind – most of which concerned the state of my backside, but others were more pleasurable even if in a somewhat fanciful way.

The damage that the senior cane had wrought was quite astonishing and drew any number of comments of admiration as well as rather facile questions regarding my well-being. The first of these I accepted gracefully, but the other questions received a rather curt "how the fuck do you think I am feeling" type of reply. That night Peter kindly rubbed balm over my wounded flesh, which did help, but also raised the never-ending issue of teenage sexual excitement. Peter was kind enough to help me ease that tension in the privacy of an empty classroom – a reciprocal exercise which required very little time but produced significant results.

Foster started to figure in my nightly dreams more and more, particularly since I would see him naked in the showers after each rugby match. Had I been an expert sports commentator I could easily have given an audience a rather graphic description of his continued development, particularly in that part of his physique which intrigued me the most.

That I idolised him as a sexual being as well is an academic star seemed to become fairly common knowledge amongst my peer group, some of whom shared my view of his perfection. Then one day quite a number of us were startled when Foster undressed after the rugby match and walked into the shower with a backside marked most grievously by a cane. Senior boys were not immune to corporal punishment but the frequency with which the cane visited their backsides was markedly below that of us lesser mortals. But it was almost unheard of for a prefect to be sporting such marks and the school quickly became a hot bed of intrigue, rumour and innuendo as we speculated on the cause of this astonishing event.

While I was at school I never did find out the reason why Foster sported those stripes, but eventually the truth would out.

YEAR FOUR

My penultimate year was perhaps more life changing than any other, even without the delectable presence of prefect Foster. I had achieved over the holidays a significant spurt of growth which was evident in a number of ways, not the least of which took the form of a larger organ and testicles between my legs. I had whiled away the holidays with my friends in ways which might not attract parental encouragement, but it was during that period that I determined without question my sexual preferences.

In the back of a car driven by a somewhat older friend, a very nice girl named Veronica began a series of experiments which concerned various parts of our anatomies. I studiously sort to give a Veronica as much pleasure as possible, but there were bits and pieces in the furry part which I quickly found to be not to my taste or liking. Breasts were more than a little enjoyable as was using one's fingers and tongue to find other parts that were sensitive and erotic, and I even went so far as to accept Veronica's embrace of my rampant shaft in that place that is designed for procreation. Veronica, being far more experienced, groaned and moaned at the appropriate times I thought, and I came away from the encounter rather proud of the fact that I was no longer a virgin.

Despite the modicum of success I enjoyed with Veronica, there were anatomical features which I found decidedly unattractive. The necessary absence of a penis was one and the substitute folds of flesh did absolutely nothing in terms of arousal. I also discovered that the female backside was not as much to my liking as the more rounded, compact ones with which I was more familiar.

Now I do not want to suggest that Veronica was, as the saying goes, "loose" but she did have a desire on various occasions to share her favours with more than just one party. One evening after the cinema we congregated at a friend's house where we most certainly imbibed too much and matters took some rather peculiar turns. Bobby, a boy a couple of years older than I, was rather intent on savouring Veronica's delights and, although I could have claimed a proprietary interest at that time, I did the gentlemanly thing and allowed him to have his way.

Another couple, whose names I don't actually recall (probably because of the distraction I suffered in the short-term), had gone to one of the bedrooms presumably to emulate Bobby and Veronica who were undoubtedly shagging in another room. Now I will not use of the extent of my indulgence with alcohol as an excuse, but when the other person in the room, Andrew, came to pour me another Scotch I lacked any inhibitions.

Andrew was more beautiful than handsome. Like me he was tall and lanky, seemingly fit even though he did occasionally give into the demon tobacco to which he introduced me. That night, probably in order to avoid falling over, he knelt down in front of me with the bottle of Scotch (a very nice single malt) in order to refresh my glass. My response, atypical of me at the time, was to reach out and run my fingers through his golden locks. His response was somewhat more emphatic as he put aside the bottle and my glass, grabbed my head and rose up on his knees and started snogging.

Now kissing at that stage was something with which I had been experimenting. I was well past that initial fumbling stage where triumph is measured by just getting two sets of lips together. But Andrew had a tongue which engaged with mine in the most pleasurable manner and my understanding of the word "passion" took on my far greater meaning and greater clarity.

Being in a stranger's sitting room, snogging with another male caused me to pause and to suggest to Andrew that we might perhaps retire to somewhere slightly less public. Collecting glasses, cigarettes and bottles we started exploring for such a retreat. I almost collapsed in laughter when the first door I opened revealed Bobby's naked posterior bouncing up and down as his shaft went into Veronica's willing receptacle.

It was Andrew's arm coming around my waist and drawing me away from what really did look somewhat ridiculous that caused me to withhold my laughter and we continued the search. Success came in the form of a very nice little bedroom towards the rear of the house where we deposited ourselves, and I coughed and spluttered over my first cigarette as Andrew stood in front of me sipping his Scotch periodically whilst he concentrated on removing my clothes. Apparently he was far steadier on his feet than I and it seemed quite natural that he should perform this particular function. It wasn't that I didn't have my wits about me, because I did. One of my first actions was to make sure that the door was shut and locked and the second was to make sure that I had an appropriate receptacle to receive the ash, and in due course the butt, of the cigarette. Yet I was quite happy for Andrew to take the lead and orchestrate whatever was to come.

As it turned out the night was not to be taken up with some flimsy musical but rather a vast symphonic work where Andrew's expertise with a baton and the score placed him firmly in control. He went so far as to remove his own shirt and trousers, socks and shoes himself. Whether this was a matter of timing (to avoid my fumbling) or not I wasn't sure and I didn't care. I had finished my cigarette and he started one for himself (without the coughing and spluttering I might add) and then stood as I took a gulp of my Scotch and then took the apparently required initiative, set my glass aside, took two steps forward and then gently eased his underpants down to release his rather large and demanding penis.

Andrew enquired as to my experience and was surprisingly pleased to find that, with respect to what he had in mind, I was totally virginal. He knew that I had had the pleasure of intercourse with Veronica but he was far more interested in my feelings regarding the boys at school and those in our social circle.

Although both of us were erect where it mattered, my conductor seemed determined to follow the score which he had in his own mind and not move rapidly to the last movement. As a dutiful member of the small orchestra I was prepared to allow him to set the tempo.

The first movement concluded with us lying on the bed, naked as the day we were born, smoking and drinking and comparing notes on our thoughts regarding boys around our age group. I told him about Foster and, when he raised the matter, about my physical reactions to corporal punishment. In that regard we shared a common interest as it turned out and would be a matter for a different type of music in the fullness of time.

Andrew led me into the second movement rather gently. After discarding our completed cigarettes and taking a further gulp of Scotch, I found my head being gently encouraged towards Andrew's impressive shaft. I didn't need to glance at the score to know what was required and I engulfed the head of his cock with seemingly the most heavenly music playing in my heart and in my ears. Andrew later that evening told me that what I lacked in technique I am made up for with enthusiasm but when Andrew turned his body one eighty degrees and engulfed the head of my penis I demonstrated, I believe, that I was a fast learner.

The other thing I found out during the second movement was that I was fast on the trigger – far faster than Andrew. I lacked the social grace in that particular situation to give Andrew a warning as to my rapidly approaching climax, and I felt quite ashamed when I coated his tonsils, assuming he had them still, with my spunk. I immediately became apologetic and was totally surprised when Andrew released my slowly subsiding organ and told me that he found the experience quite delightful.

I continued to lavish what tenderness and encouragement I could on Andrew's shaft and I remember thinking about his lack of revulsion at my sending my seed down his throat. My rational mind told me that even if he had not enjoyed the experience it was incumbent upon me to reciprocate. When, in due course, Andrew's shaft expanded noticeably and his testicles pulled tightly up I did not back away but accepted what was to come.

Now two years makes quite a difference when it comes to the quantity of sperm that one can produce, and I was rather overwhelmed by the volume that Andrew sent into my mouth. I had to swallow quickly to make sure I didn't spill it on the bed, which I thought would be lacking decorum. As I did I found the taste rather interesting – sweet but with a slightly bitter tang. It was most certainly a meal for which I could come for seconds when the opportunity arose.

The third movement of the symphony involved hands and tongues with the latter going in some places where I would not have thought of venturing. Fortunately, we both had a call of nature resulting from the copious amounts of Scotch we had consumed, and we both took the opportunity to make sure that we were as presentable as possible in the circumstances.

We returned to the bed in succession and Andrew showed me just how delightful a tongue could be on one's perineum as well as in what lay above. When it was clearly my turn to venture into those areas I required a little more fortification of the single malt before I took the plunge. Now one might normally expect such a thing to be distasteful and revolting but, to my surprise, it turned out to be neither. As a result, what should have been a rather short movement, turned into a rather elongated and repetitive one which we clearly both enjoyed immensely.

The fourth movement of course was typically grand, dramatic and overwhelming. Andrew had secreted the necessary prerequisites in his trousers and produce them at the appropriate time. Now, although I had occasionally explored my nether hole in search of that magical spot which was a source of such ecstasy when I was wanking (whether alone or in company), I was not at all prepared when the entire orchestra became engaged in moving us towards the climax.

Even though he was clearly in command of the score, and determined to follow every single note in the requisite order, Andrew also showed the sensitivity that any Maestro would and prepared me for the climactic conclusion of the symphony as best he could. The music that was my body rose and rose as the preparations continued and then a pinnacle was reached which was exquisitely painful and equally welcomed and then the music died down somewhat into a gentle but persistent rhythm where pain became discomfort and discomfort brought forth new revelations. Of course it was inevitable that the tempo would quicken as that glorious symphony came towards its conclusion. The last half dozen vibrant, loud, forceful chords were accompanied by cries from the conductor of joy and exhilaration as he realised just how wonderful the music had been.

I had not realised during the final movement as I watched the sweat pour from my conductor's brow that I too had reached a climax, but when Andrew leaned forward and rubbed my chest and then raised my head so I could kiss him I became well aware of the evidence of my own ecstasy. Andrew would later explain how my mind was too concerned with what was going on in the tunnel that he was exploring and that my own satisfaction was overwhelmed understandably by my fear.

The balance of the holiday I spent mainly with Andrew exploring the novelties available to two young men with similar predilections and appetites. Andrew was on holidays from University and so we had long wondrous days together during which we explored one another's minds and bodies to our hearts content.

But all good things have to end and we departed as studies beckoned but were determined to keep in touch and we made a pledge, which we would keep, to spend the next long vacation together.

It was thus that I entered my penultimate year at school with experience and confidence uncommon for one of my age and upbringing. Peter was the first to notice the change in my demeanour as well as my knowledge and it was with him that I first chose to share my recent experiences. What I didn't realise immediately was that Peter had himself changed. His body had filled out, his face was more refined and, most importantly, his backside was very firm and round.

I suppose I was a little conceited because I failed for several weeks to realise how Peter had changed and blossomed. I told him about Veronica and the fact that I was no longer a virgin and when he pushed me I confessed quite openly that I found the male form to be my preference. Peter had possibly not come to any landing regarding his own sexuality at that stage and I certainly wasn't going to push the matter. Moreover, I was not going to tell him that I had actually lost the other form of virginity that I possessed, and I was quite determined not to mention Andrew.

This year was one of change in many respects. We had new prefects, more serious lessons and challenges. Of the prefects, the most senior one in our house was Watson, a very nice young man, extremely well built and with facial features that in the past I had judged to be not at all unattractive. With the passage of time my assessment of Watson rapidly moved up by the sexual equivalent of the Richter scale as his body filled out and his face changed from being plain to a rather handsome.

Watson took his duties as a prefect extremely seriously. The youngest boys in the house soon became terrified of his presence although I'm not sure whether he wielded the cane on their backsides or simply the plimsoll. The boys in the second and third years were nervous when Watson was about and I quickly became aware of the fact that our most senior prefect had little hesitation in wielding his cane on older boys.

My first experience came in the third week when Peter and I adopted our well-developed practice of having a quiet wank in an empty classroom. Whether Watson had observed our habit the previous year or not was unclear but I suspected he had, given his unexpected appearance in the room we chose that afternoon. The room was so far removed from his normal pattern of activity as to suggest some prior knowledge.

Peter and I, not unexpectedly, were required to report to Watson's study and wait, along with other miscreants, for our senior prefect to determine our fate. The conversation in the corridor outside Watson's room indicated quite clearly that some of the boys there had already had their backsides striped, apparently with a considerable degree of vigour. One or two looked rather pale as they waited for Watson to call for them.

As regards Peter and me, we thought the matter of wanking to be quite trivial and we adopted a rather casual stance as we waited with the others. As it turned out the normal routine was followed with the youngest boy being the first to enter Watson's study. Muttering could be heard through the door which clearly indicated that our esteemed prefect was telling the youngster of the seriousness of whatever offence he had committed. Then there was silence followed by the predictable sound of a whippy rattan cane striking the youngster's trouser clad rear.

I think most of us outside anticipated that the young lad might receive three moderately severe strokes, but when the fourth one landed across the lad's backside and he yelped in response, I think all our eyebrows shot up in surprise.

A period of silence followed and then the door opened and the youngster came out clearly exhibiting his tears and vigorously rubbing his rather small posterior. The sight of the young lad gave me pause for concern. My instinct told me that Watson was being somewhat maniacal when it came to dispensing justice, but I was in no position to question his methodology or his assessment of the seriousness of any offence.

Three third formers preceded Peter into the room and each in turn received four apparently severe strokes. The last of the three quite clearly received his strokes on his bared posterior because there was a decidedly different sound as the rattan visited his nether cheeks. After the first two strokes there was also a degree of vocalising which confirmed that the lad was not particularly enamoured of the cane.

Peter's entry into the study was followed by the predictable muttering, a period of silence, and then the sound of the cane which was clearly meeting Peter's unclad bum. The sound was slightly different and it occurred to me immediately that Watson was using a very heavy senior cane on my friend, and when Peter started to yelp I had no doubt that Watson was being particularly serious in expiating Peter's `sins'. What troubled me the most was that I counted six strokes of the cane.

Peter emerged in due course clutching his backside, which I would later to inspect, and it was at that point that I would find just how nicely rounded and firm it had become. In the meantime I had to content with our `friend' Watson.

My first impression upon entering Watson's study was the fastidious way in which he lined up his books, his papers and even his writing implements. Compared with the mess and clutter of my desk, Watson's tidiness seemed quite strange. I stood before him studying his face which, as I noted earlier, was much more handsome than I had recalled from the previous year, and as he lectured to me regarding the appalling nature of my crime with Peter I could not help but allow my eyes to roam over the balance of his body. I had never noticed before, and it might have been a result of the holiday interregnum, that Watson displayed a very noticeable bulge behind his flies. I didn't read anything into it immediately because it could be simply that his form of underwear had altered, his trousers were tighter or any other possible explanation. I did allow for the possibility that he found that caning was a source of excitement and that possibly the two naked posteriors he had already observed had added to his condition. I was not going to question him on the matter in given the circumstances.

What I gathered from Watson's tirade was that he thought that wanking at Peter and my age was somehow juvenile and unbecoming of the more senior members of the house. I had no doubt as to the penalty that was to be inflicted and therefore didn't hesitate at all when ordered to remove `my clothes'. At the time I naturally assumed that Watson was referring to my trousers and underwear, but it transpired that he wished to have me totally naked before he administered the dreaded cane that was lying all too obviously on his desk.

Once I had complied with his rather curious demand regarding my state of dress I had to stand for a few moments apparently to allow him to assess my development. And then came the moment when I had to bend over the desk and present my rear for his attention. I suppose, given the fastidious way in which he had set out his desk, I should not have been surprised that he was particularly attentive to my posture. The spread of my legs, the straightness of my back and the prominence of my buttocks all apparently required his attention, and there were a few moments of exasperation on my part as I moved limbs in accordance with his instructions knowing full well his desire to have the largest possible target for his cane.

As I had listened to Peter's punishment I had not been aware of any undue movement on Watson's part, but when he delivered the first stroke to my horribly vulnerable rear he did so with a short run-up which was extremely effective in causing sheer agony across my tender flesh. Just with that first stroke I could feel tears seeking to form in my eyes and I found that rather disconcerting. Two strokes later and tears were rolling down my cheeks and I was uttering epithets quietly in protest at the horrid pain I was experiencing.

Whether it was true or not, my mind thought that Watson must have spent the entire long vacation practising his accuracy with the cane because he moved down my proffered cheeks very precisely and I think quite intentionally, so that the last stroke was delivered to the crease between backside and thigh. A profanity exploded from my throat at that point and I knew immediately that I had presented Watson with a wonderful opportunity.

A brief lecture followed regarding the prohibition on that applied to the use of profanities under any circumstances and then two diagonal strokes were applied to my posterior to reinforce that message. Silence then ensued. As I waited I thought Watson was horrid and despicable.

I was not only sobbing. I was horribly embarrassed by the fact that my penis had become more than a little excited during the terrible experience, and so I happy to remain in position as long as possible, gulping in deep breaths of air, and silently praying for my erection to subside.

Watson told me to get up as he placed the cane on his desk and I had no doubt that he saw my arousal. I was instructed to immediately begin restoring my clothing and I did so feeling somewhat ashamed that the young man, just one year older than me, was observing my physical reaction to the beating. It took me a little while to finished dressing, since every time I bent to pick up something the pain in my backside was exacerbated. Finally, when I was in a fit state to leave, Watson put his hand upon my back and patted me which gave me a very confused signal indeed and subsequently would take me some time to decipher.

Upon leaving Watson's study my absolute priority was to get to the bogs and put a wet cold flannel on my wounded posterior. Given the time my beating had taken I really didn't expect Peter to be there but he was and I told him about the procedure and the fact that I had earned myself to additional diagonal strokes of a very serious intensity and then unveiled my wounded flesh for his inspection.

It seemed to be a day in which my brain could not discern the meaning of various signals for Peter's reaction confused me utterly. I didn't know whether his mutterings reflected sympathy for the obvious agony I was enduring or admiration for Watson's abilities with the cane. Fortunately Peter didn't dally too long on the matter and soon I had a cold wet flannel easing the pain that throbbed across, down and seemingly into my backside.

A beating from Watson was not going to deter me, or Peter for that matter, from experiencing the pleasures of our own flesh, and so we simply changed venues believing that Watson would not bother us again.

Two weeks later as Peter and I were down beside the games pavilion at the sporting field, which was not in use at the time, we were spotted enjoying ourselves in a solitary fashion by one of the other prefects who made a point of mentioning it to Watson. Curiously I was the only one of us to be summoned by Watson that evening as the rest of our house attended to prep.

Watson was waiting for me and seemed a little impatient when I arrived. Unfortunately for me I was already in a somewhat aroused state and when I reluctantly obeyed his instruction to disrobe Watson immediately took note of my condition. For my part I took note of the bulge in his trousers and I had a quick debate with myself as to whether I would be inviting a life ending flogging if I challenged him about his condition. While I don't normally carry grudges, I was certainly making an exception in Watson's case since I still thought the beating I had taken had been grossly unfair. The debate was brief and my arrogance supreme and so I took the bit between my teeth and asked him whether he was actually enjoying my clear discomfort and my obvious arousal.

A pregnant pause followed during which I could only assume that Watson was having a debate in his own mind as to how to respond. When it came the response was quite astonishing for me and it took the form of his hand reaching for mine and placing it on the bulge in his trousers. I knew immediately that I had found a school version of Andrew but we had to go through the necessary preliminaries before we could consummate any relationship. Moreover, if anything were to develop I had to get a very large chip off my shoulder.

Watson was aware that the whole of the house attending prep on the floor below would be waiting to hear the sounds of my beating and, of course, my reaction to it. Somewhat apologetically Watson told me that my indiscretion warranted four strokes of the senior cane. Even in my rather ambiguous position between my grudge and my arousal, I was not so stupid as to deny the logic in Watson's decision. Many a time I had been in prep and listened to the prefects dispensing justice on the floor above and, on occasion, when somebody I disliked was the victim, I enjoyed the sounds.

I think I was a step or two ahead of Watson at that point, or at least exceptionally bold, and I suggested that we should both be naked when I was punished – a suggestion at which he laughed and, surprisingly readily accepted.

Although I had a new found sense of confidence in my own body, Watson clearly had some uncertainties or reservations about his own which I could discern from the way in which he disrobed. When he was naked, I made it quite clear to him that I found every aspect of his body to be in fine proportion and delightfully attractive. He revealed to me that I was standing there about to be beaten because he was jealous of the relationship he thought I had with Peter. It seemed that Watson thought the relationship went far beyond a mutual wank and I quickly assured him that that was not the case. Seemingly relieved, Watson commanded me to adopt the required position and delivered four extremely effective strokes to my recently healed backside.

With the necessary sounds sent downstairs to satisfy the curiosity of our housemates, Watson and I then confirmed in the most pleasurable fashion our mutual desires. It was at that stage, or at least during the preliminaries, that Watson confessed that he had had a crush on me for at least two years. The confession surprised me and I rebuked him a little for having wasted so much time.

Watson was somewhat larger than I in the area in which I was particularly interested, but not as big as Andrew, and I demonstrated to him my dexterity with my tongue and mouth on his rampant shaft and then invited him to reciprocate. After we had found some relief together we had a discussion regarding the relationship between our arousal and my punishments.

Watson was not reticent in admitting that he found the caning of a naked backside a very exciting, sexual experience. I graciously accepted his complement that I had possession of the most beautiful posterior in the school, although I was rather sceptical concerning his judgement. For my part I didn't hesitate to admit that, within reason, waiting for and then receiving a caning also provided me with sexual stimulation. No agreement was reached that night on how we might proceed but I left Watson's room knowing full well that I was going to find a cane a rather regular visitor to my backside in exchange for the pleasure of Watson's body.

Events clearly have a way of working themselves out and Watson invented the idea of coaching me in some subjects during prep so that we might spend some quality time together. I think Peter found this rather strange since I was doing rather well in all my subjects, but he accepted it without question and he also accepted my explanation that I thought our private wanking needed to take a holiday at least until our senior prefect had calmed down a little.

Watson found any number of reasons to apply a cane to my posterior and we both enjoyed the experience although I questioned in my own mind just how mentally unbalanced I might be to find pleasure from such pain. Our relationship blossomed, but not with the speed with which that between Andrew and I, and it took some time for our dalliances to move beyond oral sex.

Watson found it rather peculiar that my knowledge of how to excite another person's body was so detailed and clearly proficient. I reverted to the traditional excuse of hearing things talked about, since I was not prepared to disclose that I had had penetrative sex with an older man during the holidays. And thus it was that we gradually progressed along the path of sexual exploration, encountering the inevitable obstacles that had to be overcome and finally reached the point at which penetrative sex was the only outstanding item on our respective agendas.

When we got to that stage, just before the end of the first term, I had to decide for myself whether I should seek to take on the dominant role and introduce Watson to the pain and delights that were to be had. I had a restless night or two pondering this very grave matter but finally decided that the appropriate course of action was to allow Watson, as the senior partner, to exert his seniority. What I hadn't anticipated was his fastidious streak, but I soon found that we were both required to have enemas and to remove the hair between our nether cheeks before we could engage in the action that we so greatly desired.

The initial experience was both revolting and delightful. Cleaning out one's bowels is not one of the things one looks forward to in life, but the pleasure of having a partner carefully remove the hair that surrounds that special portal is quite wondrous and I was willing to trade of one for the other. As the junior partner I assumed responsibility for acquiring have the requisite lubricant and condoms and I think Watson greatly appreciated the fact that I volunteered to do so. He was really quite shy when it came to such matters as confronting a chemist and asking for a packet of prophylactics' or, as I termed them, rubbers'.

On the second last Saturday night of term, whilst the rest of the house were preoccupied with either television or a movie (undoubtedly of the wholesome kind) Watson and I moved to consummate our relationship in the most intimate manner possible. I found Watson's tentative nature quite endearing as I rolled the condom on to his eager shaft and then lubricated it and my sphincter in preparation. For his part Watson expressed concern at the disparity between his shaft and my hole, and I had to allay his concern by stating that clearly throughout history others managed this conundrum without causing any loss of life or, even, hospitalisation. Given that it had been some time since a cock had ploughed my furrow, Watson's tentative and considerate approach to the matter was greatly appreciated.

Given that I had had some significant degree of experience with Andrew, I was quite surprised nonetheless when Watson's penetration caused me quite a degree of pain. Once he was through the portal and gently rearranging my innards, I resolved to overcome the matter of discomfort by making a regular habit of mating in this way.

Watson found the experience to be quite wonderful, but he did express some concern when I requested my conjugal rights. We came to an arrangement whereby three strokes of the heavy cane became my payment for the right to bugger my prefect. Given that I was becoming addicted to corporal punishment that was a price that I was more than happy to pay.

Mounting Watson proved more of a challenge that I had expected. Perhaps it was his inhibitions about turning our relative seniority on its head, or perhaps it was just concern but it took an inordinate amount of time for me to finally do unto him as he had done to me. When we had finished our tryst that afternoon Watson confirmed my suspicion that he would be more than willing to repeat our horizontal jogging exercise on a regular basis. Since I was becoming quite in tune with my real nature, I was more than a willing participant.

The difficulty one has when one gets into a groove such as this is that school holidays interfere with the one's regular mating habits.

Unfortunately, Andrew was erstwhile engaged and not at home for the first vacation and I have to confess that although I tried to encourage some encounters in the village I spent the entire vacation having to satisfy myself with my lubricant and right hand. It was most disagreeable holiday to say the least.

The resumption of school got everything back on track although it took Watson a little time to reaffirm our arrangement but, with my assurances of the pleasure to be had and the fact that his study door was well locked, we developed a fairly regular routine. Of course it was inevitable that Peter would get suspicious and even the three stripes across my backside, which were the price for my playing a dominant role when jogging, did not entirely assuage his suspicions.

To try and accommodate the situation I resumed my intimacy with Peter but on a far less regular basis. We managed to find an old storage room which had a solid lock on the inside of a very stout door and we managed to avoid detection while we satisfied our pressing needs. Yet between Peter and Watson I found my attention to my studies becoming somewhat lax. Regrettably my teachers did as well and it was perhaps inevitable that I was going to front the headmaster at some stage so that he might encourage me to give my studies more attention.

The headmaster's invitation came after the normal second term review of all students' performances. It was not uncommon at this time of the year for the headmaster and his deputy to conduct mass executions for which I am fairly sure they exercised for several months before. Many a clad or unclad backside can testify to the fury with which canes fell as a result of the midyear review. Being relatively senior, the review of my performance had a degree of priority given the growing importance of my studies to my future prospects. I really didn't appreciate the degree of priority and attention I was given.

It was during a mathematics class that a missive came from the headmaster and my teacher read it and then announced in front of all my peers that the headmaster required my attendance in his study at the conclusion of the lesson. Now we all knew what this meant and there was a degree of teasing as well as mirth as I forlornly tried to concentrate more on what I was being taught than my fleshy nether cheeks. I have to admit that my attempt at concentration lacked a certain amount of success.

Now it might be thought that punishments for poor performance would involve a large number of students in each year, but that was not the case. The system worked so that those with greater aptitude and potential who showed a dramatic decline in performance were given a clear message to `lift their game'. Those who were deemed to have less moderate intellects or abilities were not punished provided they maintained a regular performance. It was therefore not surprising that I found myself in the company of only two other lads in my year waiting in the gloom outside the headmaster's study, knowing what was to befall our delicate nether cheeks.

I've already commented about the agony of waiting and this time was no exception. We waited opposite the door to the headmaster's large study and I think we all focused on the door handle quite intently since that would be the first sign and that one of us was about to go to his doom. Occasionally, with a certain amount of deliberation I am sure, boys who seemed to find one or more of us attractive (presumably regarding either our facial or posterior features) wandered by rather slowly and surveyed our tense and anxious bodies and one or two actually muttered a `good luck' in sympathy. I found the attention a rather pleasant and reassuring despite the fact that inside I was more or less feeling like a blob of jelly.

The headmaster's `interview' with each of us took a considerable amount of time since he was disposed to review in detail the extent to which our grades had fallen in each subject. As one anxiously awaited for the sentence, one was required to give responses to questions regarding the decline in one's performance and the reasons for it. Perhaps the contraction of some fatal disease or mental instability might have assuaged the headmaster's apparent, yet controlled, wrath but unfortunately I could not claim such excuses. (While I undoubtedly played for the other side, as the saying goes, I didn't possess a theatrical bone in my body and therefore the thought of giving an impression of a dying swan in order to avoid chastisement seemed faintly ridiculous, even to me.)

I was the second in the apparent queue and so I had to wait quite a considerable time while the first lad, Cullen, had his interview. With the lapse of time the other chap waiting with me, Ogilvy, and I looked anxiously at one another wondering about the silence in the study. In due course, as sweaty fear dripped down our backs, the air was punctuated by the unmistakable sound of a heavy rattan rod making its acquaintance with a pair of unclad nether cheeks. Ogilvy and I exchanged glances which conveyed our mutual concern and then our ears focused on the next meeting of rod and flesh.

While a casual, non-involved, observer might consider our attentiveness to the noises rather unseemly, the sounds we could hear, even though muted by the intervening door, gave us a good idea of the seriousness with which the headmaster was treating the matter. In the case of Cullen it was apparent on the third stroke that Cullen's performance (or lack thereof) was clearly being taken very seriously indeed since of the lad let out a yelp which was very unseemly for a fourth year boy and could only mean that savagery was afoot.

The intensity of Cullen's yelps increased with the passage of time which of course was to be expected. What was not expected was that the number of strokes delivered moved past the number six which was normally considered the upper limit for a single session with the headmaster. Ogilvy and I became quite distressed when stroke number seven was delivered and I think we both felt sick to the stomach by the time three additional strokes had fallen on Cullen's posterior.

There was quite a period of silence before Cullen emerged with tears still running down his face and, as soon as the door to the study was closed, his hands cradled his wounded flesh. I knew that every instinct in his body told Cullen to race to the nearest bog to find comfort from cold water, but the lad apparently was in no condition to move with any great speed and he shuffled off around the corner just as I was summoned for my interview.

As I walked the relatively short distance into the headmaster's study my mind was consumed with thoughts about what might justify Cullen having received ten strokes of the cane. My initial thought was that he had perhaps been caught in bed with the headmaster's wife, but when I considered that scenario I didn't think that such an event would warrant quite such a severe punishment. Perhaps, I thought, rather than the headmaster's wife Cullen may have been found shagging the family dog. But Cullen didn't seem that sort of lad and so I was quite perplexed at the point at which the interview commenced.

Of the five subjects in which I had clearly declined in performance, the headmaster was kind enough to mention that my performance in French had been particularly poor and indeed had declined nearly twice as much as any other of the four subjects. When asked to explain what was going on it seemed to me that advising the headmaster that homosexual relations had become my number one matter for study might not be a good idea. Since I couldn't claim mental illness or approaching death, the only excuse I could suggest with any amount of credibility was that I had been somewhat inattentive.

The headmaster was quite disposed to agreeing with my analysis and then the mathematics of Cullen's beating became apparent. I was condemned to getting two strokes of the cane for each subject but an extra two given my appalling decline in my performance at French. Now I might not be a mathematical whiz but I could work out that I was doomed to receive a dozen strokes. For absolute clarity the headmaster indicated that I should remove my trousers and underpants before placing myself over the low backed armchair with which I was to become quite familiar over the next ten minutes or so.

I was relieved that the headmaster did not observe my disrobing since my penis was clearly excited although the rest of me was not. In particular my backside took a rather dim view of what was about to fall its way. In such situations the most peculiar things occur to one and on this occasion it was the fact that there was some sort of draft that swept gently across my nether cheeks as I waited head down and bum up for the first stroke of the cane.

I really think the headmaster had outdone himself in terms of exercising prior to this occasion for the sheer force of the cane was quite breath-taking. Needless to say the pain which followed a second or two later was equally noteworthy. I don't think the headmaster noticed any evidence of my last encounter with Watson and his cane several nights before and it was probably just as well. While I think I have a reasonable pain threshold with this form of corporal punishment, I have to admit that I started to weep a little and to cry out at the fifth stroke and my performance didn't improve from that point on.

The difficulty with taking twelve strokes of the cane, apart obviously from the pain, is that one's backside is usually not large enough to accommodate them all. There are two options available of course: one is to double up and the other is to target the lower extremities. It was the latter of these options that the headmaster chose and my reaction probably made me sound either like a castrato or one of the young boys in the school choir. Either way I was shaking from the pain and weeping quite noticeably by the time the cane had had its fill of intimacy with my naked flesh. The pain was horrendous but more disturbing, from a personal point of view, was the extent to which I was vocalising my distress. Somehow I felt a little ashamed of myself, despite the fact that quite probably no boy of my age could fare any better in the circumstances.

The aftermath was quite surprising. In the first instance most of my comrades were eager to see the damage and were full of admiration for the headmaster's skill: only a few were genuinely sympathetic for my condition. But it was from Watson that I found the more surprising reaction when I visited his study where, quite naturally, I was required to show him my stripes. He found great eroticism in both the site and feel of my cheeks and demanded conjugal rights at a time when I was not well suited to such activity. Notwithstanding my reluctance, I did yield to his demands but only upon the condition that he would apply some healing balm to my fundament to ease the pain. This activity only served to increase his excitement in anticipation of ploughing my furrow.

I won't pretend that I enjoyed that evening, especially when Watson was deeply embedded and pounding against my wounded flesh. Certainly I was aroused as a result of the beating but I would have preferred not to have endured a rogering while my backside was so tender. Of course I didn't realise that Watson was excited not only because of the stripes but also because of the fact that my buttocks were extremely swollen: he found the mix of sights very appealing.

I most certainly didn't want a repeat performance with the headmaster and so I spent the balance of the year more equitably dividing my time between sex and study. Fortunately this proved acceptable and my end of year results confirmed that I had achieved an appropriate balance.

The long vacation returned Andrew to my world, although in a slightly different context. We spoke more often about corporal punishment. I explained of my relationship with Watson and also gave a graphic account of my interview with the headmaster. To my surprise Andrew had developed an interest in participating in corporal punishment which is quite a contrast to just a year before. Twelve months ago he was quite happy to give me a beating with a belt or a spanking as a prelude to intimacy, but now he rather blatantly told me that, like me, he had found that he was turned on by being a recipient.

To a boy of my age this sort of confession was somewhat confusing. There is in one's brain a natural association between age and role within an arrangement such as ours. I could not imagine Watson, for example, asking me to be the giver rather than the recipient of his cane.

When this revelation was made, Andrew and I were lying on his bed with he on his back and me on my front and my head more or less on his navel. He was running his fingers through my hair which I found wonderfully erotic and once I understood what he was saying I just lay there for a little while trying to comprehend how my understanding of our respective roles was being turned on its head. I asked him where this interest of his had come from but he refused to do more than say that it was a matter of curiosity. I thought that that was perhaps a somewhat misleading explanation, but I clearly couldn't push on the matter.

Given that I would probably be made a house prefect once school resumed, despite my having had an encounter with the headmaster, I was not at all perturbed by the thought of wielding a cane. Indeed, one of the matters on my list of things to do during the vacation was to practice to ensure that I would have sufficient accuracy and power when the time came. After thinking about Andrew's apparent desire I slid my body up the bed and over his so that I could look him in the eye and make sure in my own mind that my performing the role he was suggesting would not alter our sexual relationship. Andrew assured me that, not only would it not hamper relations between us but that, indeed, it would enhance them considerably.

Up until that moment my plan had been to go and find a decent switch with which to practice the art of caning since the real article would be provided, in abundance, at school. Andrew however had clearly thought the matter through and advised that he had procured several instruments with which we might find mutual enjoyment. There being no time like the present I suggested to Andrew that, if he was serious, we might indulge ourselves since his parents were absent from the house and it was unlikely that anyone in the adjacent houses would be disturbed.

After a degree of coupling and kissing, we separated and left the bed and Andrew went to his wardrobe and produced three canes and a tawse. The canes were of the size and weight similar to a senior cane at school and so I deduced that Andrew was most serious regarding this form of foreplay.

Now I have to admit that Andrew possessed a posterior which seemed to cry out for discipline and I also have to confess that I lacked confidence that first day regarding my ability to hit the target accurately and with an appropriate amount of force. We discussed my lack of skill but Andrew was not at all perturbed and suggested that I commence by administering the traditional `six of the best' to his naked backside. I had of course seen other posteriors displayed in anticipation of a beating at school, but the sight Andrew presented was enough to make me more than a tad aroused. Andrew was equally well aroused and seemed a little impatient as I tested out the flexibility of the cane he had chosen, the distance to the target and the action I would adopt.

It was just as well that I had decided to practice the noble art of caning because the first stroke I delivered in Andrew's direction bounced off the very top of his backside leaving no mark whatsoever and sailed aimlessly through the air. This brought a rebuke from Andrew who promised me that I would feel his disappointment in due course, and so I concentrated on my second attempt as hard as I could. The result was clearly an over correction on my part and the cane struck Andrew right at the crease above his thighs with quite a considerable degree of force. Andrew responded with a yelp but did not rebuke me, apparently considering a stroke on that part of his anatomy to be fair play.

I think it was by the time I had delivered the final stroke that I was getting the hang of the matter of accuracy for it was the only stroke that landed where I intended. Andrew stood up, well and truly erect, and told me that my effort was appreciated but we would have to work on the matter of my strength. He had six red marks spread rather haphazardly on his delightful backside, but I doubted that any of them would leave a bruise. Andrew inspected his backside in a mirror but didn't feel compelled to rub it very much. Fortunately he was aroused to the point where his priority was to make love to me and so we adjourned to the bed and frolicked with abandon.

Sometime after we had finished our first coupling, Andrew reminded me of his threat to use the cane on my backside. Lying together, I was naturally somewhat tumescent and I considered that a few strokes might be just the thing to encourage Andrew to mount me and to give me that spark inside which would make our lovemaking that much more enjoyable.

Andrew proved far more skilful with the cane than I and I had a vague suspicion that he may have been practising. The four strokes he delivered were more than adequate in the circumstances for both of us and we spent a rather frenetic 25 to 30 minutes as we once again sated our lust.

YEAR FIVE

When the long vacation finally ended Andrew and I said fond farewells and agreed to be reunited at the first opportunity. During the break I had become quite expert with a cane both with respect to accuracy and force. Indeed, by the time we parted, I was quite adept at bringing Andrew to tears with six well placed strokes across his naked posterior. When he requested that the number of strokes be increased he took them with far more fortitude that I and his backside looked quite stunning when well striped.

As the vacation progressed and my skill developed I found that the intensity of our lovemaking seemed to increase almost directly in proportion to the amount of pain being experienced. I still had a nagging fear in the back of my mind that this might reflect some mental defect on my part. But when I thought about it, Andrew was successful, handsome and certainly level-headed and it didn't seem possible that we might both be mentally unbalanced. With time we would both find that we were not the only to fish in this particular sea and that a large number of successful, rational and respectable human beings found such activities most pleasurable.

As I had anticipated I was made one of the house prefects (as was Peter) which was fortunate given the amount of practice I had undertaken in anticipation of such an appointment. From the point of view of the boys in the house, `fortunate' might not have been an appropriate word. As Watson had done the previous year, I now found myself walking about the school house surveying available posteriors and anticipating which ones might be the more delightful to beat.

Without the restriction of other prefects, Peter and I were able to reunite and resume a somewhat sporadic relationship, although I suspected that Peter was focused more on a younger partner with whom he wished to share much of his final year. That was not a matter of great concern to me and I didn't seek to impose any restrictions on his activities. We had three house prefects and all of us wanted to run a tight ship and without even discussing the matter we knew the way to do that was to give the youngsters a little time to settle before bringing out the cane.

It was not because I was not trying, but rather just a matter of happenstance, that I was not the first prefect to select a boy for a beating which was well warranted, of course. Hastings, the prefect concerned, found a fourth year boy smoking. Normally such an offence would be reported immediately to the headmaster and the boy's rump dealt with suitably. For reasons that I didn't question, Hastings requested that I be an observer as he dealt with the matter himself. I was obviously happy to do so and I didn't raise the matter of reference to the headmaster.

The smoker, Philips, was just one of a number of boys who were adopting the terrible habit and in saying that I admit my own hypocrisy since both Andrew and I smoked regularly when we were not otherwise engaged. Yet hypocrisy aside, the crime was being caught as much as it was indulging. I was quite pleased that the strawberry blond Philips was the guilty party because he was a well-built lad who was appealing to the eye and had a firm, quite pronounced, posterior which seemed to cry out `beat me'. Another reason for my pleasure was the fact that Philips seemed to have that sort of look on his face when he saw me that suggested something more than casual regard. The opportunity of witnessing his punishment I thought might give me a chance to assess his interests.

As was the usual practice, Philips met his Waterloo during prep. He had to stand in front of Hastings who `read the riot act' before demanding that Philips uncover his backside. I was standing to one side of the room as the witness and Philips casts several glances in my direction and even went so far as to look at me directly and gave a brief smile as he removed his underpants and adjusted his privates before assuming the position required. I thought his actions a little forward, but when I saw how his posterior had developed since I had last seen it in the showers, I rather appreciated his efforts to communicate his desires so blatantly.

No one takes six strokes on their bare posterior terribly well at the age of fifteen or sixteen and Philips was no exception. He shook, yelped and even stamped his feet as Hastings slowly and methodically sent the rattan cane with great vigour and effect across Philips' fundament. The young man was in quite a distressed state at the end of the prescribed six strokes and I thought it only reasonable to provide him with some assistance as he went through the painful procedure of restoring his clothes. I went to him and, without Hastings noticing, was rather intimate in helping Philips restore his underpants and also whispering to him that he might want to come to my study for some solace. That suggestion alone was enough to improve Philips' demeanour quite markedly.

Now unless one takes a very jaundiced view of such a situation, the reality is that no coercion is ever involved in the formation of any relationship between boys. Most certainly there have been some instances of bullying which is not tolerated at all and woe betide anyone found guilty of such an offence. Generally bullying of a sexual nature, as distinct from a simple physical nature, arises where one or more boys, totally confused about their sexual preferences, are presented inadvertently with the sight of some particularly beautiful youngster. If we spy such a chap we prefects tend to immediately appoint him a couple of his fellows to act as companions and to ensure that he is not left alone where predators might be inclined to strike. All the boys know the routine and respect the fact that we prefects do our best to protect the most vulnerable amongst us.

There was nothing vulnerable about Philips. He came to my study almost as soon as I had arrived after witnessing his beating and rather surprisingly thrust himself against me seeking, fairly obviously, something more than just comfort. Despite my inherent nature, an invitation of such obviousness is not something I am going to accept at face value. That night I administered some soothing balm to Philips' posterior but then insisted that he depart. I told him that he had a responsibility to show his peers the evidence of his punishment and also that I was not disposed to jump into bed until he had had sufficient time to ensure that he wanted to perform that role. I didn't disabuse him of the idea, but I did demand that he be certain in his own mind as to what he wanted, since once a commitment was made he would be required to walk that path quite possibly for the balance of the year.

The first caning I had to administer was to a rather plain looking, thin lad with mousey coloured hair and a vast number of freckles which did nothing for me. His name was Wellington but that was the only thing (apart presumably from genitals) that he had in common with our national hero. When he bent over for the three strokes of the junior cane for being rowdy and particularly obnoxious, the target was not in the least bit appealing and I think the ferocity of the strokes I gave might well have reflected my disappointment. Yet of course there are other fish in the sea and there was plenty of time to catch any number of them.

A week had elapsed since Philips had taken a rather severe caning from Hastings for smoking when he knocked on my door. I had been sitting on the window ledge with the window fully open since I was having a cigarette and I had to hastily discard it before I answered the door. I suppose smokers don't understand just how much they reek of tobacco just after they have been indulging, but the look on Philips' face told me that he knew precisely that I had been committing the same crime for which he had been punished.

I considered my obvious hypocrisy to be a badge of shame and so I offered Philips a cigarette in order to try and expiate my awkwardness. I locked the door and we sat in the two armchairs in my study, smoking and rather circuitously talking about our sexual preferences. There was no doubt that we had the same object in mind as we danced around the subject for quite some time. I was loathe to take the lead given my seniority and my apparent reluctance finally got the better of Philips who put out his third cigarette of the night and stood up and proceeded to disrobe. To say that I was taken somewhat aback would be a mild understatement, but as he revealed his well-formed torso, a surprisingly well-developed tumescent groin and his beautifully proportioned legs, any reticence I might have had flew out the window with my cigarette butt.

Totally naked, Philips was an astonishingly beautiful creature and I needed very little time to stand and take him by the hand and lead him to my bed. I went to my bathroom and relieved myself and also took hold of the necessary articles and returned to find Philips already under the sheet. I undressed rather self-consciously given the beautiful creature before me and was more than surprised when he expressed admiration for my own physique and development. I got into bed naked beside the lad and took him in my arms. He was clearly inexperienced even in the matter of kissing and I felt compelled to enquire about the wellbeing of his virginity. His answer didn't surprise me in the circumstances, but the fact that he was prepared to sacrifice that for me was a very great honour in my view.

It was only appropriate as the senior partner to provide as many lessons to young Philips as I could, and I did so slowly and deliberately so that he both learned and enjoyed the experience. When it got to the matter of his sphincter, I felt obliged to mention that, no matter how much preparation was undertaken, the eventual entry was going to impart some pain. I was totally shocked when Philips told me that he wanted to be taken as hard, forcefully and painfully as possible and despite my protests he was most insistent that that was how it was to be done.

I tried several times to dissuade him since I didn't want to cause him any distress but he insisted that he knew what he wanted and that the pain was part of the experience about which he had been dreaming. He got a little abrasive with me as I procrastinated about when he put the prophylactic on my shaft and lubricant on it and his own nether hole, his intent and desires were quite unmistakable. Moreover he adopted the position for mating that dogs use, and buried his face in my pillows in clear invitation. It would not be polite for a gentleman such as me to decline such an obvious request and so I positioned myself against his waiting portal and debated whether to succumb to his demands.

Clearly my hesitation was obvious because Philips turned his head and almost screamed out "hard and fast" in a voice which brooked no argument. The demand was such that I could not ignore the young lad's desires and so I forced my way into the goalmouth as Philips predictably squealed into my pillows. When I hesitated as I passed the threshold, Philips took the initiative and pushed himself back against me, clearly wanting the invasion to be completed with as much speed and force as possible. As I obliged Philips took his head from the pillows and started expressing the pleasure he was experiencing an encouraged me to rut as fast as possible. When I did so I found the youngster using his right hand to relieve the pent-up thrill in his own shaft and he sent his seed onto my bed minutes before I was prepared.

When I eventually dismounted and we lay together I was concerned about the state of Philips' nether hole and when I expressed that concern he felt about and returned with a finger which displayed some blood. I couldn't fathom the lad's attitude for he laughed at the sight and told me that it was the sight one expected when depriving a girl of her maidenhood and how perfect to it was that he displayed the same. At that point I made a mental note to look up my encyclopaedia and dictionary and carefully study the word `masochist' the following day.

The word I should have chosen to examine turned out to be `stupid'.

The dalliance with Philips was exceedingly delightful and it was quite late by the time we parted. The following morning I was somewhat jaded and the appearance of our housemaster, which was unusual at breakfast time, caused my heart to flutter a little. There was just a slight chance that Philips' late departure from my study might have been noticed. I needn't have worried on that account, but what had been noticed was a collection of cigarette butts in the garden more or less below my study window.

Clearly there were three possibilities as to the guilty party since the building had three stories. There is a certain amount of honour involved when such a matter arises and I was hardly likely to try and shift the blame to those who lived on the lower floors. The fact that I was a house prefect caused our housemaster a certain amount of angst since a report to the headmaster might see me demoted. For a full day I was on tenterhooks concerning my fate but thankfully my housemaster decided to put my fate largely in my own hands.

Before I went out for sports that afternoon I was called to his study and told that I had the choice of a meeting with the headmaster or taking a thrashing from the head prefect. To my mind there was an element of Hobson's choice about the situation, but it didn't really take that long for me to realise that the head prefect might provide me with a painful experience but he couldn't strip me of my privileged position as a prefect within the house.

That evening the head prefect, Abercrombie, visited with our housemaster and the two of them decided upon by the manner of my fate. I called upon the head prefect at the beginning of prep that evening and, as I had anticipated, didn't find the meeting at all to my satisfaction. With trousers and underpants removed, along with socks and shoes, I was required to adopt a position in which my backside was my most prominent feature. Of course from my perspective my shaft was already the most prominent, and almost sole, feature I could see.

Abercrombie was captain of the cricket team and wielded the cane with much the same effect as he did the willow. Perhaps a cricket bat might have been slightly more merciful because the very heavy senior cane was brutal in the extreme.

While the headmaster the previous year had reduced me to tears within a reasonable space of time, Abercrombie set a new record, at least as far as I was concerned. I yelped at the third stroke and my eyes started to water. It wasn't just the cane that Abercrombie was using that caused me so much grief. The three strokes he had delivered were all concentrated on the lower part of my posterior and as the beating continued that area received a disproportionate amount of attention. I tried as best I could to contain my yelps within my chest or throat but with this sort of treatment it was inevitable that some escaped and I didn't feel at all ashamed of the fact.

Abercrombie took his time making sure I had ample time to appreciate the full effect of his hard work and also to give me time to settle after each blow, particularly when I started stamping my feet in protest at the white hot pain. Abercrombie's intent was clearly to make sure that he had a stable target in order to guarantee the efficacy of each stroke.

I was fully conscious of the count and the fact that six strokes had been delivered and I had no doubt in my mind that that was not to be the end of the matter. With predictable certainty Abercrombie continued to stripe my backside without mercy and a full dozen strokes managed to dismiss any attempt at stoicism on my part.

When the affair was concluded my backside could not have looked particularly attractive and it was certainly extremely painful as I bent to pick up my underwear and put it on. Just the feel of the cotton on my damaged flesh was enough to cause me a degree of stress and when I did manage to pull my trousers up my immediate instinct and desire was to get out of both garments as quickly as possible. As tradition dictated with the head prefect I shook hands with Abercrombie to show that there were no hard feelings, which was not actually true given the state of the flesh between my legs. As I turned for the door I was sure I spotted through the door of a cupboard that was somewhat ajar more than one packet of cigarettes. It is quite curious sometimes how things work out.

My race to my study was hampered by my condition: a well striped, already swelling backside does not lend itself to haste.

Philips was kind enough to risk punishment himself by leaving prep early so that he could be with me when I returned. I was most appreciative when I saw him waiting for me. His words of sympathy, whilst appreciated, were as nothing compared with the relief I got from the soothing balm he applied to my wounds and the excitement he generated when he used the cream on areas where the cane had not created damage. Philips worked hard to ensure that my mind was taken off the pain and he went so far as to suggest that some vigorous working of my buttocks might not only dissipate the pain but also minimise the inevitable bruising. To this end he attended to my shaft which he finally clothed with a condom and coated with lubricant. Once he had applied some of the liquid to his own portal, Philips kindly settled his head upon my pillow and raised up his legs in an invitation which was most effective in transferring my attention from my rear, at least temporarily.

The concern that Philips showed for my well-being rather cemented a relationship that would become more important than either of us expected.

As regards the matter of smoking, Philips and I adopted a far more discrete approach by ensuring that any cigarette butts went down the toilet and that air freshener did its best, along with open windows, to dispel the smell. With respect to our studies, both of us concentrated rather well but of course, it being my senior year, I was more diligent than young Philips.

I wasn't surprised, and I suspect neither was he, when at the midyear review he received and unwelcome invitation from the headmaster. Although I had created excuses to discipline the younger man it was generally considered a matter of foreplay. His interview with the headmaster certainly did not exhibit that characteristic but it did give me the opportunity to reciprocate the concern that he had shown when Abercrombie had thrashed the living daylights out of me.

Although the headmaster was one year older, his ability with the cane had not suffered one iota and Philips returned to my study in an exceedingly distressed state with ten, well placed stripes across his beautiful backside. The one consolation he had was that the stripes were not concentrated on one spot as mine had been and therefore the damage was somewhat less pronounced. Nonetheless I enjoyed being sensitive to Philips' needs and found his presence in my rectum exceptionally pleasing and exciting after I had tended to his wounds.

The variety of backsides I encountered during that year quite amazed me especially in the case of students whose crimes were so egregious as to warrant my asking them to uncover their buttocks. I became somewhat of a connoisseur, if that is the correct term, of boyish flesh and I also developed a reputation for being harsh but fair in matters of discipline. From time to time one of the younger boys might suggest that we trade-off part of the punishment that he was due in return for his favours, but that was a temptation which I was able to resist.

My fellow prefect, Peter, was not as well self-controlled and developed a reputation for being in that trade. I don't know how this reputation got to the ears of our housemaster but towards the end of the second term I was required to attend an interview between he and Peter at which the latter was disabused of the idea that such a trade was acceptable. I was there to witness the discussion but also to receive instructions regarding the manner in which Peter should have the error of his ways impressed upon him.

By this stage Peter and I were more or less monogamous even though Peter did have one-off dalliances with students whose backsides required discipline. I felt no qualms, despite our previous intimacy, in ensuring that the judgement of the housemaster was delivered without fear nor favour. I am reasonably sure the Peter didn't expect anything other than my best efforts and I found that we both greatly enjoyed the execution of the said punishment although Peter clearly didn't enjoy that aspect which required my heaviest cane to slice across his nether cheeks on ten consecutive occasions.

Of the boys I was obliged to punish, and leaving aside Philips of course, there were a number who made a significant impression upon my evaluation of posteriors. These were boys who had firm, well rounded and pronounced buttocks and I felt a sense of elation whenever such a boy came to me in need of correction. When I compared notes with the other prefects I found that they had quite a different views in some cases with one or two preferring buttocks that were less than firm and jiggled in response to the visitation of the cane. I think we were unanimous in our view that large flabby backsides were the most distasteful and I suspect that some boys built in that manner actually escaped having to display their flesh because of the unpleasant sight involved. For my part I didn't allow aesthetics to interfere with justice.

Andrew and I had been speaking by phone quite regularly as the weeks went by and I was delighted when he said one evening that he was looking forward to us being together for the relatively short break at the end of term. I suspect that Philips experienced a reflection of my excitement in the form of extra vigour when we were exercising in my bed. I didn't explain to him what was afoot but he did look askance at me periodically during those evenings.

Andrew met me upon my arrival and escorted me to my home where I would be reacquainted with my father and mother later in the day. I was more interested with being reacquainted with Andrew and we barely had time to remove our clothes and shower before we were in my bed engaged in a rather predictable fashion. I was surprised to find that Andrew was sporting marks on his posterior which could only have come from a belt or some other similar instrument and, moreover, had quite clearly been administered quite recently.

Of course I enquired as to the source of the marks but Andrew muttered but it will was a matter with which I shouldn't be concerned. I didn't think that that was a reasonable response but, given the scarcity of the time we would have together, I was not inclined to cause any ructions between us by pushing the matter. My logic was that if we were truly to have a lasting relationship Andrew would reveal to me how such things came to pass in due course.

Whilst I had thought it peculiar during the long vacation when Andrew had requested that I punish him and my doing so had significantly enhanced our sexual relations, when he raised the matter once more I thought it quite unexceptional. Given the expertise I had developed at school, I was now in a position to give a good accounting of myself which seemed to enhance Andrew's enjoyment even more. Of course Andrew didn't spare my backside and I was finding his attention more and more exciting and our lovemaking more and more intense and pleasurable.

Because the final term was going to require very intense study on my part, my parents encouraged me to make the most of the short vacation and were happy that I spent a great deal of my time with Andrew. My mother in particular thought Andrew had a good influence on me. He most certainly did, although my mother was clearly unaware of the way in which that manifested itself.

During that period I found that Andrew was more in need of being submissive to me and on occasion I had to persuade him to give me the same degree of stimulation that he was asking me to provide. He didn't hesitate to do so and clearly didn't find it disagreeable, but we were both experiencing such similar desires that I found a degree of stress developing in our relationship. I wanted to raise the matter with Andrew, but time was so precious that I put the matter to one side and made sure that I catered to Andrew's needs as much as possible, even if it meant a bit of frustration on my part.

It would be wrong to suggest that everything was biased towards Andrew, because it wasn't. Andrew was attentive when he made love to me and he certainly had developed with respect to the girth of his shaft which gave me intense pleasure. He had also developed a capacity to target my prostate which was exhilarating in the extreme. I didn't resent his needs for one minute but I did want, perhaps, some time to work out a slightly better balance after I had left school.

When I returned for my last term and it was not with any regret. Most certainly I'd experienced a great deal of delight with the rumps of any number of boys – more with respect chastisement than sex, but both aspects of my life were most certainly memorable. But I was growing in more respects than one and the prospects with Andrew looked good. I think I wanted the maturity of an older lover, even though Philips was a wonderful shag.

During the last months at school it seemed that with the second and fourth year boys were particularly rambunctious and I spent many an evening with a cane reminding them of the need to be more circumspect. With Philips the relationship altered quite markedly. The lad still provoked me enough to warrant chastisement periodically but he clearly understood the pressure I was facing regarding my final examinations. His reaction took the form of making his wonderful arse available to me whenever I wanted. For my part, when I needed it, Philips was more than capable of bringing me the satisfaction I desired.

I don't know what happened to me but I actually became quite studious and the result was that I excelled in my final examinations, much to the delight of my parents and, more importantly, Andrew.

I said farewell to Philips with quite a degree of regret because he had been a quite delicious lover. Peter on the other hand had become more distant during the course of the year and that was a relationship about which I had become somewhat ambivalent.

Andrew rang me on the evening of my final examination and gave me his congratulations on my finishing school and promised a great deal with regards to the future. I would be home a week before he and I spent that time being doted upon by my parents and the various relatives.

CONSEQUENCES

The question implicit throughout this account has been what does one expect that such an upbringing might produce, and why would anyone express surprise at the outcome? To my mind, the consequences of such a development could be quite predictable in the case of somebody like me who had a prediliction towards the relationship between corporal punishment and sexual fulfilment. Rather than go into a dissertation on this subject, perhaps it is more fruitful for me to continue the narrative, at least with regards to the immediate outcomes of my journey.

After a week of rather suffocating family congratulations I was able to meet up with Andrew who had his parents' house to himself because they were overseas on an extended excursion. Our reunion commenced rather predictably but once we had satisfied our immediate requirements, I took the opportunity to sit down with Andrew, more or less as an equal now, to discuss our relationship and our respective needs. I was rather forthright when I addressed the matter of the mysterious stripes I had noticed on two occasions on his delightful backside and his refusal to explain how they came about. I had had an uneasy feeling on the two occasions when I had observed Andrew's body in such a condition, and subsequently I had ruminated unsatisfactorily on the matter. I felt I was in a position to ask for an explanation and to my surprise and delight Andrew was quite forthcoming.

Andrew had made it clear that he found corporal punishment to be increasingly a source of sexual arousal and that it added immensely to his enjoyment of my ploughing of his furrow as well as his frequent recourse to his own hand in the solitude of his bed. He told me quite frankly that, given that the extended periods when I was at school and unable to attend to his needs, he had had recourse to a young man, only half a dozen years older than himself, who ran a business locally which catered to people with our predilections. When I asked how long this had been going on, Andrew admitted that he had visited the young man rather infrequently over the past eighteen months or so, but only when I was not to hand and his needs became quite overwhelming.

In anticipation of my next question, Andrew assured me that there was no sexual contact involved and that his response was to fantasise about me when he relieved his pent-up frustration with his right hand.

It took me a little time to come to grips with the concept but of course I did and accepted that there were significant advantages to be had from such a service. When I quizzed Andrew about the nature of the young man in question his response was that the man's pedigree was unquestionable with much in common with my own. I wasn't necessarily convinced by this description but I must admit to a degree of curiosity when the man I loved so much suggested that we might jointly make a visit. I was momentarily shocked by the suggestion because I was more or less accustomed to being chastised by Andrew has a matter of foreplay. The thought that we might involve a third party had never occurred to me of course, but to Andrew it seemed a natural extension of our relationship.

I think Andrew took some exception to the fact that I said that I wanted to think about the matter because he had assumed as the senior partner in our blossoming relationship that I would go along with his proposal without question. Notwithstanding his expectations, I took a day to think the matter over and came to the conclusion that the itch around my prostate was such that perhaps Andrew's suggestion was not quite as far-fetched as I had initially thought. Andrew was delighted when I said that I was prepared to at least experience the service offered by this apparently well qualified young man, who was conveniently located not that far away.

As it transpired appointments were required which I found oddly quaint in some way. Andrew made a time for us a view days later. In the interim we mated like rabbits with great intensity but, naturally enough, without the subsequent progeny.

I must say that the two days before our appointment were quite amazing and delightful. Andrew had grown even larger since our last encounter and tested my rectal capacities to my limits – a challenge which I found both difficult and rewarding. Similarly, my development during our unavoidable interregnum produced a little discomfort on Andrew's part, but also explosive outcomes. Those two days were ones in which Andrew and I decided a whole host of matters including those regarding the maintenance of our bodies and the absence of hair in places where we found them to be a hindrance. From my perspective we adopted a most delightful practice of attending to one another when we bathed and generally such encounters resulted in fingers massaging prostates during fellatio.

More importantly we jointly analysed our feelings for one another and concluded, without reservations, that we wished to form a union which would be everlasting in nature. Monogamy was discussed and the practicalities of maintaining such a state were examined in considerable detail, with the conclusion being that the matter would resolve itself once the educational system decided to which university I might go. With respect to corporal punishment and the delightful consequences we experienced through it, experimentation with other partners was ruled out with the sole exception of the young gentlemen were shortly to visit. As to the matter of intercourse, we pledged to one another not to play the submissive role with any other person and also to be totally and unequivocally honest with one another about our feelings and any temptations which might come our way.

Having reached those conclusions, I think it was natural that both of us wanted to revisit them after a period of earnest reflection regarding our individual ability to hold fast to our pledges. We agreed that we would take the opportunity of being together for an extended period to explore various venues and see whether either of us was inclined in any manner to succumb to temptation. The logic we agreed was that it was better to place ourselves at as much risk as possible in order for each of us to determine our ability to hold fast to our undertakings to our partner.

Given my disposition towards honesty, that night in bed, just before sleep enveloped my universe, it occurred to me that given my proclivity at school for bedding more than one boy at a time, I was most probably the one of us that would find temptation to be a considerable challenge. Given that Andrew had not strayed with respect to his sexual favours, despite having a university full of potential tempters and my having no way of knowing if he had, I was quite sure that Andrew would find keeping to the letter and intent of our pledges far less of a problem.

Our appointment with the mysterious master of corporal punishment, who Andrew said when to buy the name of `Harrison', took place in the late afternoon apparently after the gentleman in question had returned from work. Andrew and I were greeted at the front door of a rambling old house set well back from the street and away from its neighbours by some factotum who seemed to be nameless but was clearly in command of the arrangements. We were required to visit the lavatory prior to meeting with the master of the house and we did so somewhat expectantly, at least as far as I was concerned.

The man Harrison, that Andrew had been meeting and who had regularly thrashed Andrew's backside, turned out to be extremely attractive, of modest height, and possessed supreme confidence. His vocal sounds made it clear from the outset that he had come from a not dissimilar school as I although clearly as much as a decade before. The three of us discussed our respective experiences and needs in an extremely candid manner during which Harrison made copious notes.

Up until that point it appeared that Andrew had more or less dictated of the terms of the attention he wanted and Harrison had been agreeable to that arrangement. But given my experience, particularly at the hands of my headmaster and Abercrombie during the past two years, Harrison thought it best that we develop a relationship between the three of us in which Harrison would determine the appropriate punishment for misdemeanours which we either reported ourselves or which the other considered was in need of attention.

I found the situation and the proposal exciting, although I wanted to make sure with Andrew that neither of us would invent reasons for the other being severely chastised. Andrew agreed saying that we should be open with one another if we spotted a fault and that we should agree in advance if that indiscretion, real or imagined, warranted the attention of Harrison. I must say I was amazed at Andrew's attitude because it showed that he was clearly concerned about my well-being as well as my capacity, or his, to provide sexual gratification to the other. We agreed to Harrison's terms and then sat and quietly discussed matters which both of us (Andrew and me) had done which would warrant chastisement.

I was surprised that this discussion went on for as long as it did, but Andrew wanted to confess that he had had rather lustful thoughts about one of his neighbours and had been a bit tetchy when I questioned him regarding his unexpected marks upon his posterior during our two previous assignations. Andrews's forthright admissions prompted me to confess to being somewhat impatient with the celebrations by my parents and relatives of my completion of school and also to being somewhat aggrieved by the lack of explanation from Andrew about the marks that mysteriously appeared on his backside.

Harrison turned out to be exceptionally clever in reading both Andrew me with regards to the indiscretions on Andrew's part and the venom implicit in my thoughts. He also quite clearly appreciated my recent experiences at school and accordingly varied the punishments so that I might not become inured to the effects of justified discipline.

After having heard Harrison's analysis of our respective situations, Andrew and I were allowed as much time as we wished to consider whether we wanted to proceed. I was a little unnerved with Harrison's assessment of my need for some change but Andrew and I agreed and placed our well-being, or rather our flesh, at Harrison's disposal for judgement. We then executed documents in which indicated that we were willing recipients of the chastisement that we sought and that he (Harrison) thought appropriate in the circumstances.

Harrison had explained his philosophy or methodology quite clearly to Andrew and to me and it came as no surprise when he decided against using a cane on my posterior and determined that a quirt might be more effective. With respect to Andrew, Harrison believed that a martinet might be a more appropriate instrument of punishment. Andrew and I exchanged glances of concern at the pronouncements, but neither of us was going to resile from our commitment to carry through and accept his judgement.

Harrison decided that we should view one another's punishments and instructed both of us to disrobe completely in preparation. As Andrew and I did so, Harrison went about the matter of selecting the appropriate instruments, clearly with the intention of ensuring the both of us suffered appropriately.

I mulled over the matter of the quirt as I disrobed and relied on my schoolboy understanding of what such an instrument looked like and how much pain it could impart. My understanding was that it was a relatively short thin strand of leather which could be quite painful but nowhere near as cruel as a cane. As it quickly became apparent, my reliance upon schoolboy knowledge proved to be misguided and gave me a clear indication as to be just how much further education I required.

Once Andrew and I were both naked and clearly aroused at the prospect of what was to come, I found to my consternation that Harrison was holding a quirt which consisted of two tails and was far heavier than I had anticipated. The very sight of it spoke volumes to me about its capacity to inflict exceptionally severe pain, particularly if wielded by an expert, which I assumed Harrison to be.

Harrison was clearly experienced with people of my age regarding our lack of knowledge and the fear that the unknown could engender. He thus decided to address my instinct to flee without delay and commanded me to stand with my arms out in front of me and my hands holding on to the mantelpiece above a rather nice fireplace. My legs, Harrison informed me, should be spread at least as wide as my shoulders and preferably further and I meekly moved accordingly.

The mantelpiece was not so high that my arms were parallel with the floor. Rather I was bent somewhat as I reached marginally down to hold on to the timber. One didn't have to be Pythagoras to work out that the angles made my backside somewhat more prominent than any other part of my anatomy, well at least with regards to the rear.

Harrison pronounced his judgement regarding my disregard for the kindness of my family and relatives and my lack of understanding of Andrew's desire not to explain his actions to me whilst I was still a schoolboy. The verdict was that I should receive eight lashes with the quirt on both counts. I was given an opportunity to protest and Andrew was given a right to request that my suffering be diminished, but neither of us decided to avail ourselves of Harrison's offer.

I could feel the sweat of fear cloaking my exposed body as Harrison explained the capacity of the quirt to create considerable discomfort and the consequences for me should I yield to the pain and move out of position. Harrison kindly assured me, and thereby Andrew, that one could yell or even scream should one feel such a need and that the neighbours or passers-by would remain oblivious to any such unseemly behaviour on my part.

I had obviously become accustomed to the cane which had the rather unique characteristic of imparting its bight perhaps as much as a second or two after one registered its impact. Harrison had not informed me that the quirt delivered pain almost instantaneously. It was for this reason that the first lash of the two tongues of the quirt caught me by surprise as did the intensity of the pain and which immediately flashed across my buttocks.

Whilst I could contain myself reasonably well with most canings, the quirt was more akin to the savagery of the beating that Abercrombie had given me, and it was with the third lash of the quirt that I started to vocalise my considerable discomfort. My protestations, not surprisingly, fell on deaf ears and I kept on reminding myself that although I could stamp my feet and wiggle my backside to try and ease the white hot pain I must not let go of the mantelpiece and incur even more agony.

Harrison did his best to make the experience as memorable as possible and reminded me of the capacity of the tawse to reach into the crevice between one's nether cheeks and visit upon flesh that was otherwise spared during a beating. By comparison with the quirt the tawse is a cumbersome instrument and the two tails of the quirt left very pronounced evidence of their visits in the flesh between my cheeks. Later this would become a matter for delight on Andrew's part but at the time it stretched my tolerances almost to breaking point.

Suffice it to say that sixteen strokes of a quirt wielded by a person with considerable expertise, dexterity and power is not something one would embrace lightly nor seek to encounter if at all avoidable. Weeping, with snot seeping out of my nose, my body shaking with the ferocious pain, the thrashing concluded and I was able to hobble to the side of the room and rest my severely weakened body against the wall whilst I recovered. When I found the courage to touch my backside I was actually surprised not to find evidence of blood but I should have realised that such an outcome would have been `unprofessional' on Harrison's part.

As I wallowed in my misery and self-pity, Harrison informed Andrew that he considered the appropriate punishment in his case to be twenty-two lashes of the martinet. Andrew reluctantly move forward to accept his due.

At first I didn't care about the thrashing that Andrew was receiving because I was so focused on my own pain that Andrew's was of secondary importance. However, I am not one to wallow in self-pity for very long and I dried my eyes, cleared my nose and then started paying attention to Andrew's suffering.

Unlike the quirt, the martinet which Harrison was using had six or seven tails which quickly turned Andrew's backside from its beautiful alabaster appearance to a markedly bright red shade. The sound of the thrashing was quite loud and Andrew seemed to vocalise his pain in a rather similar volume. Apart from noticing the change in the colour of Andrew's posterior, my attention was drawn to his posture: apparently the martinet is far better administered with one standing upright or lying down. Andrew was standing with his hands outstretched against the wall but totally in the vertical which meant that Harrison had to bend slightly to make sure that the martinet maximised its impact when directed at Andrew's backside or thighs.

Although Andrew possessed a wonderfully pronounced and well-proportioned bottom, even I could see that there was not going to be sufficient room for all twenty-two strokes of the martinet to which he was to be subjected. I looked lovingly at Andrew's back and thought how often I had kissed it and run my tongue and fingers over it and Harrison fortunately didn't take exception to the fact that I gave my rampant organ a stroke or two as I recalled the delight I experienced with Andrew's back. It would be some days before I once again had an unobstructed view of Andrew's shoulder blades and muscles for Harrison was more or less compelled to mark that area of Andrew's body, as well as his lower back, once his backside and thighs had suffered sufficiently.

Although Andrew was as equally vocal as I had been and squirmed after each blow of the dreaded martinet, his yelps turned to screams when the tails of the instrument sliced across his shoulders and upper back. I was bitterly disappointed when Andrew started shaking and crying out and then spent his seed in several notable strings. At the very least I thought I should have been allowed to assist him at that point: such a waste!

Harrison had clearly been expert in bringing Andrew to his climax with the penultimate lash of the martinet and once the final lash had been delivered Harrison kindly discarded the instrument of chastisement and allowed Andrew and myself to console one another.

Perhaps half an hour later the three of us were reunited and each satisfied with his experience. Andrew and I thanked Harrison for his professional services and departed with a view to a very slow and cautious walk to Andrew's home.

That night the effectiveness of Harrison's handiwork was most apparent. Andrew lay naked on his bed while I administered the soothing balm and, in doing so, tried to minimise the anguish that that caused. Before I joined him and he administered to my body, I found that I had to engage in solitary satisfaction of my sexual desire since clearly that was not on Andrew's agenda that night. I thought that doing so was somewhat of a waste but it was clear that neither of us was going to allow anything other than soothing cream anywhere near our ravaged flesh. The following day thankfully was quite a different matter.

During the next few weeks Andrew and I did as we had intended and visited any number of establishments where temptation might be expected to lurk. As I had anticipated I spent most of those afternoons and evenings with a shaft that was so solid that I'm sure it could have easily been used to break concrete. I was not surprised at all by the number of young men we encountered who possessed physical features which are both of us found pleasing and yet we were certainly not tempted to break our commitment one to the other.

While I was at an age where I could get my licence to drive a motor vehicle, Andrew already possessed such an important document and I was quite pleased when we will go on picnics together in his car. Invariably we would find the most delightful yet deserted place to eat, relax and indulge our sexual needs. It was on the return from such a delightful sojourn in the country with that Andrew had a verbal altercation with a policeman who indicated that he viewed Andrew's driving as being unacceptable.

The policeman in question looked rather surprised when he found me in the passenger seat beside Andrew for when he had apparently first spotted the car I was nowhere to be seen. Fortunately I had been able to do up Andrew's flies before the policeman strode up to his side of the car. The altercation was more or less a one-sided affair since no argument was ever brooked by the police who were more or less a law unto themselves.

Andrew and I had a debate when we arrived home as to whether I bore responsibility, at least to some degree, for the encounter with the policeman and its aftermath which took the form of a financial penalty. Andrew felt that, since he had asked me to adopt the position in which I had been at the time of interception, I bore no responsibility at all. It was clear to both of us however that Andrew required the services of Harrison for such offences were viewed in society as being fairly egregious and most certainly unacceptable.

I rang Harrison's establishment and made an appointment for Andrew. The factotum who took my request raise the matter of whether I might be in attendance and when I admitted that I would be there he asked, rather impudently I thought, as to whether I wanted any attention from Harrison. I was in two minds on the matter and suggested that our appointment should provide enough time for both of us should that be Harrison's judgement.

At the appointed hour on the appointed day Andrew and I arrived and I knocked on the door and we were greeted by the factotum who ushered us into the entrance hall where he asked us to wait momentarily. I think both Andrew and I could hear the sounds of post-chastisement remorse from some victim of Harrison's attentions and we waited patiently – Andrew somewhat less at ease than I.

Moments later the door to the room in which Harrison had chastised both of us a couple of weeks prior opened and I nearly fell over with shock as I saw my erstwhile prefect Foster emerge from the room in a state of extreme distress. Andrew noticed my reaction to Foster's appearance and nodded his understanding as I softly uttered Foster's name: Andrew recalled what had transpired at school between Foster and myself.

For his part Foster was more concerned with leaving the house than addressing my presence but in due course the two of us would inevitably meet and be able to compare notes. On one such occasion I confessed to Foster how I had doted upon him at school and I also quizzed him about the day he entered the showers with an exceptionally well striped backside.

Foster commented that he lamented the opportunity to become better acquainted with me when he had beaten me over the incident of the window. He told me that any relationship would have been of a casual nature since he had had a serious affair with a very young history master going on at the time. He was quite candid about the matter but apparently the two of them had come to grief when the headmaster found out about their dalliance. The history master curiously was dealt with in the same manner as Foster, which I found rather extraordinary. Foster explained that the headmaster considered such dalliances to be not unexpected between senior boys and the younger of masters and since both were viewed legally as consenting adults, and the master had not forced his attention on the boy, the headmaster was prepared to let the matter be dealt with in a fairly civilised fashion. I remarked to Foster the time he confessed this to me that I didn't consider the beating he received to have been at all civilised. He laughed at my observation and admitted that the ten strokes he received had left bruises for nearly three weeks, but he considered that an acceptable price to pay for the pleasure he found in his lover's bed.

After Foster had departed, Andrew and I had to wait a while during which Harrison apparently recovered from his exertions with whatever instrument he had to vigorously applied to Foster's backside. He then joined us and enquired as to the matter which brought us to him. Andrew provided a fairly detailed explanation which included a rather graphic description of my contribution to his carelessness. Although Andrew thought I bore no responsibility for the consequences, Harrison was not so easily convinced.

Harrison pondered the matter for a while (perhaps a minute or two at the most) and then announced that he thought we both shared responsibilities in the matter, although clearly Andrew was the more guilty party. When Harrison announced that Andrew should receive eight strokes of the strap I was somewhat surprised at what seemed to be an exceedingly lenient a punishment but I said nothing. I was also surprised when I looked at Andrew and saw that the announcement had caused him noticeable distress. Harrison determined that I should receive three strokes which I thought would be of no consequence.

It is incorrect to assume that if you have seen one strap you have seen them all for the one that sought to tear apart Andrew's and my flesh that evening was truly something to behold. Half an inch thick, about four inches wide, eighteen inches long with a handle of about twelve inches, the strap that Harrison was about to wield was frightening in the extreme. I could understand as soon as I saw of the black leather implement why Andrew had gone an exceptionally pale colour when Harrison announced his punishment.

While the martinet had turned Andrew's flesh to an agonising shade of red, the strap achieve that outcome in just three strokes. Despite the ample size of Andrew's backside, the strap turned the entire area to horrid crimson shade well before Andrew had screamed out at the last lash. Although Andrew was clearly aroused, the strap had the effect of inhibiting any disposition he may have had towards ejaculation.

Harrison clearly wanted me to understand how fearful the strap was and he covered the centre of my backside with two strokes that were adjacent to one another and a third which overlapped both and, as I would find when we got home, had left a dark scarlet mark which would undoubtedly turn into a nasty bruise within the next twenty-four hours.

When we returned home from that encounter the both of us were in need of solace but we also shared a common need for some vigorous exercise. We ate our supper first, gingerly sitting with cushions on our dining room chairs and then we retired to the bedroom where, rather than succumbing to the pain, we embraced it and did our best to mimic rabbits once more. When we finally exhausted ourselves and lay on the bed with our shafts in decline and our rears in greater pain and in more areas than when we had begun, both of us indicated just how joyful the overall experience had been.

One could go on ad nauseam regarding our relationship and the role that Foster and even Philips would eventually play, but that would be a distraction from the principal point of this narrative.

That point is of course that no one should be surprised that the environment in which I grew up produce somebody like me, Andrew, Harrison or any of the others who understood and appreciated the relationship between great pain and great sex. Today of course bleeding-heart liberals everywhere say that corporal punishment has no place and that even the most maladjusted teen or young adult we should be given the benefit of publicly funded counselling rather than a short, painful and embarrassing reminder of the need to behave in a socially acceptable manner.

I think it is totally hypocritical for such people to pose such arguments particularly when they are religiously disposed folk who are prepared to ignore the directives of their higher power not to "spare the rod". Of course hypocrisy of such breath-taking magnitude will inevitably bring an end to the mollycoddling nanny state mentality that they promote. Sooner or later people generally will have had a gut full of teenage miscreants being given expensive counselling for which they have to pay and "the worm will turn"! Until that day some of us will keep our lives under control and within acceptable boundaries through self or mutual-discipline and will not require our neighbours to finance counselling for us should we stray from acceptable social behaviour. So in our small way our disposition towards corporal punishment as a solution means that we help everyone else by lowering the tax burden by paying for our injudicious actions with our flesh rather than taxpayers money!

End ©

If you find this sort of topic of interest, you might wish to consider the following novels which have been published as e-books on Amazon Kindle:

THE PRIVATE WORLD OF SEACROFT MANOR ©

PAINFUL LESSONS: 4 HISTORICAL M/M STORIES ©

PRISON BOYS: TEENS IN HELL ©

THE HOUSE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE HILL © - publication date 20 December

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Castor ©