The Library of Spanking Fiction: Wellred Weekly
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Articles
Items of interest regarding all things spanking
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Recollections: Scenes of Prep-School Life (cont.) After the meal we were told to go into another classroom which Mr N knew would be empty – the Sixth Form room. We had never been in there before, which in itself was something to make the experience awe-inspiring. Mr N disappeared, obviously going to the changing room to collect the gym-shoe. When he came back, he told us sternly to take our trousers down and bend over one of the desks in turn. The other boy was first – I can remember seeing his gleaming white underpants, stretched smoothly over his bottom. I remember wishing I could be first and get it over – traditionally it was said to be worse once Mr N had ‘got his eye in'! All too soon my turn came; I leant over the desk and got two ‘juicy' strokes! Before I tell you about the last and most painful whacking I suffered, I will tell you something about the use of the cane at my prep-school. I never had the cane. At the time I was rather glad, but in retrospect that is a matter of some regret! I had to wait till I was grown-up to find out what it was like! As I got older, there were a number of occasions when friends and contemporaries did in fact get it. The ritual, so I was told, was that the culprit, having made his way through that big and imposing sound-proofed door into the headmaster's study, would be told “Bend over and face the door!” They would be then given two or three strokes of dubious accuracy over their trousers! As with whackings with the gymshoe from Mr N, I was torn in my reaction between fascination and fear. I imagined myself found out in the appalling crime (of which I was in fact guilty!) of singing in the carol service one of the alternative parody versions of “We three Kings”! Perhaps it had been noticed, and when we returned to school in January I would be summoned to the headmaster's study and be caned for it! One boy had told me that, unlike with Mr N, you could actually increase the number of layers of protection against the cane by rolling down your pullover before bending over – at least the top part of your bottom would have an extra layer – but perhaps, I thought, the headmaster would tell me that for such dreadful sacrilege I would have to take down my trousers and pants and receive the cane on the bare bottom! Of course, it never happened. I remember three boys – tough, popular, the sort I rather admired but could not imitate – who were summoned to see the headmaster, I think for fooling around when they should have been watching a school football match and were given three each with the cane! Why hadn't I been with them? Or was I glad I had not been because it might have been very painful? Once, on the last night of term, talking was going on very late in the dormitory. I was lying in the nearest bed to the door in the biggest dormitory (18 boys), and heard a creak on the stairs. I thought little of it, I was nearly asleep anyway. Suddenly the headmaster entered, and announced that he wanted to see every boy who had been talking in his study after breakfast! I realised again, that I had narrowly escaped serious trouble – and didn't know whether to be glad or sorry! In the morning, I was told later, about eight or ten boys attended his study before going home. The headmaster was in a jovial mood. One boy told me later: “He was almost laughing! He said ‘I know you're bound to be excited by the end of term, but I do expect you to keep quiet when you've already been told to once that evening. So I'll let you off with one stroke each – but, I warn you, it'll be a hard one!'” And, so I was assured, it was! Another experience I could have only at second hand! But it is time to describe the worst punishment I received as a schoolboy, which occurred when I was nearly 12. The incident blew up from nowhere. I had gone out on my own to the lawn at the back of the school, and was bowling a ball at the cricket stumps chalked on the wall, no doubt in my own mind considering myself Freddie Trueman destroying the Australians. One boy came out and stood in front of the stumps, rather unhelpfully spoiling my game. I asked him politely enough to move, pointing out, as is the way of the young, that I had been there first. He, as is equally the way of the young, declined to do so. “The last shall be first, and the first last” was his profound philosophical justification. I followed up my very reasonable polite request by, not to put too fine a point on it, sloshing him one – not, of course, considering the possibility that our proceedings might be under scrutiny by Mr N, watching from the classroom window! He marched out in a tremendous fury. He was obviously in no mood to listen to excuses or to consider the provocation or the attempts to negotiate a reasonable settlement. All that bothered him was that he had seen the blow – and I must admit I was a little taken aback myself to see the boy's bleeding nose! He told me to go straight to the changing room, and take my trousers off. I went to the changing room, absolutely terrified at his fury, and stung by the unfairness of it all. What was going to happen? I could not imagine how many I would get. He came into the changing room, still very angry, sat down on the bench and told me to get over his knee. I was so bemused that I approached the wrong way, and tried to lie over as if he were left-handed; he man-handled me into the correct position. I lay over his left knee with his right leg over my lower legs, and waited in terror for what I knew would be a very severe beating. No question of any prurient curiosity about the experience – I was just frightened at the coming pain. He did not disappoint. Four times the gym-shoe rose and fell, each stroke much harder than I had ever had before. He rose in silence, and left me there. I readjusted my clothes and went out to my classroom. Fortunately no one seemed to be around. In the quiet of the classroom I could sit on the wooden seat – surprisingly enough it did not burst into flame at the heat of my bottom – and wiped away my unshed tears at the unfairness of it all. Soon afterwards I was due at the swimming pool. I went, now sufficiently composed to go amongst my fellows, but naturally I was careful to keep my rear turned towards the wall as I changed. I lowered myself gingerly into the pool, very much aware of the heat of my bottom, almost expecting the water of the swimming pool to turn to steam on contact! The coldness was soothing and delicious! 11 comments:
blimp said...
Wonderfully written and poignant memoir of those never to be forgotten years at prep school. If you didn't have an interest in spanking before, you couldn't fail to have an interest by the time you left. I forget the number of times I failed to eat a hearty breakfast because I was due for a whacking and also, afterwards, that sense of relief that it was over until the next time! 20 August 2013 13:33
bendover said...
Well written account. As if I were there. I always wondered about boarding schools and the severity of them as far as discipline was concerned. I went to a parochial school at St Mary's. I was terrified of the nuns. I would imagine with a bunch of boys or a bunch of girls all in one place for a full year would be quite hard not to get into some form of trouble at a boarding school. Well done. 21 August 2013 07:21
jimisim said...
I didn't go board, but my grammar school had some boarding houses mainly for the sons of overseas civil servants and officers. As you say things hadn't changed much since between the wars. I can precisely empathise with your feelings when avoiding a justified slippering or caning. Now I almost wish I had been cane, but my slipperings although they stung at the time didn't last too long. In retrospect I wish I had a greater number of real life experiences to draw upon.. The difference between a school beating was that it was unwanted and unavoidable-I have toyed with the idea of using a professional domme but I think it will be too artificial. 21 August 2013 12:09
PinkAngel said...
Thank you for sharing. I went to boarding school but there was no cp at that time. I too would have avoided it like the plague at school despite a latent interest in the subject. Having said that I have always been an expert at getting into trouble, answering back and being sarcastic so I would probably have not escaped as relatively unscathed as you did! A great account and an interesting read. 22 August 2013 20:50
canadianspankee said...
It is interesting to note that the writer often refers to the events as "beatings" even though there was only one or two strokes given. I wonder why now at this later the experience was described as such, especially from one who is involved in spanking today? Very interesting history here on a boarding school experience. I never attended such a school but often thought it would certainly give one a different view on life then those in the public school system and going home every night. Nicely described and well written article 4 September 2013 01:05
Sebastian said...
Good account of boarding school spankings. They didn't seem to be very harsh but still quite interesting. 29 December 2013 04:23
opb said...
That was a nicely written account which drew one in and caused similar remembrances of the feeling of being young and in the world of seemingly irrational and random rules that is school. You captured the ambivalence with which the proto-spankee holds these feelings well 3 January 2014 09:35
BlooDenim said...
I also went to a prep school & boarding school in the 60's at the age of 9 and I received my first caning within two weeks for dropping a book off the end of my bed during the quiet "REST" period after lunch. All masters were allowed to punish boys with gym shoes and it was quite frequent, although I was never punished with a gym shoe, only ever the headmaster's, or later, the housemaster's cane. These were quite different from the punishments you seem to have suffered Ernest, minimum was 4 strokes maximum 8 although I never heard of anyone getting more than 6 and the intention was definitely to cause physical harm. The head used to take a run at the bent-over boy and the bruises used to last a minimum of 2 weeks and more usually 3-4. Bleeding was the norm. Now here is the quandary... I and another boy used to sneak off into the air-raid shelter and play housemasters and pupils, caning each other over our jeans (we were sometimes allowed out of uniform in the evenings and weekends, but not off the school premises) taking it in turns to be the different housemasters, but the "real" punishments we got from age 9 up to age 18 were nothing other than extremely painful and embarrassing. We weren't allowed to cry, but if you weren't snivelling when you were let up, the master would suspect that you have an extra pair of underpants on or something similar. 27 May 2014 17:18
bripuk said...
A very well described account of life in a boarding school. I attended a state grammar school in the early 60s which tried to emulate the practices in independent schools. Slipperings by strong fit PE teachers were the most feared punishment and more painful than the cane from the headmaster. They were given almost invariably over PE shorts and would leave your bottom sporting a raised welt which hurt like hell and turned into a bruise. I received the slipper on several occasions but didn't seem to learn. I suppose it didn't do any permanent harm and generally caused us to toe the line. 28 May 2014 19:49
TheEnglishMaster said...
I can't imagine how I missed this at the time, but thank you for a charming, carefully accurate account of those old days. Going over the master's knee surprised me, as my own experience never involved such proximity. 1 October 2018 23:08
PeterJohn said...
Lovely account which dispels some of the myths of prep school life being mainly caning. It reminded me of my schools and getting the cane on the hands twice from the Deputy Headmistress. Thank you for sharing. 3 April 2020 20:18
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