The Library of Spanking Fiction: Wellred Weekly
ArticlesItems of interest regarding all things spanking
My Schooldays 1959-66
I attended a boy's grammar school in the early 60s. It was very traditional in its outlook and sought to emulate public schools in the way discipline was maintained. Although there was a system of detentions and lines liberal use of the cane and slipper was the primary deterrent which kept the boys in line. Only the Headmaster used the cane but the slipper, which was a size 11 rubber-soled plimsoll, was the weapon of choice for the PE staff who had a wider than usual role in the maintenance of discipline throughout the school.
I was probably slightly naughtier than most boys and consequently was slippered and caned on a reasonably regular basis. Both the slipper and cane were designed to hurt - these were not symbolic punishments but were quite simply used to deter the individual from a repeat of the behaviour which lead to their use.
I can recall all the occasions when I was the recipient of both cane and slipper and although each time I vowed never to get caught again I always seemed to be the one with a sore bottom. Curiously enough my bad behaviour didn't seem to affect my academic work as I achieved good grades in O and A level exams and ultimately went to university.
On one particular occasion I had been given a prefect's detention for some minor misdemeanour which had to be served the following evening after school. I had every intention of turning up to serve the detention but for some reason I clean forgot and left school at the usual time. On the way home on the bus that evening a sudden fear gripped me as I remembered that I had a detention but I was not in a position to carry it out. I knew from other boys that the penalty for non attendance was three strokes of the cane and that no excuses would be accepted. On my way home I considered a few ruses to try and avoid my impending punishment such as feigning illness but ultimately I realised I had to take the medicine and try not to forget in the future.
I tried to behave as normally as possible when I arrived home as I didn't want my parents to know what lay ahead and fortunately no questions were asked. I can remember going to the bathroom and looking at my pale 13 year old bottom in the mirror and thinking that the following day it would be decorated with purple stripes from the cane. By now I had accepted the inevitability of my fate but would have liked to have got the ordeal over rather than have to wait until the following day. Although it was difficult I tried that evening and night to put what was to happen to the back of my mind but my hand would somehow gently rub my bottom as if to remind me of what was to come.
I had a restless night but managed to conceal my fear the following morning and made my way to school as usual. I chatted to my friend on the bus and told him what I had done and although he was sympathetic to my plight he agreed that I would just have to take my medicine and be as brave as possible.
After registration we went to assembly as usual and clutching at straws. I hoped the Headmaster might be away from school that day or that the prefect had forgotten to give the Head the names of boys who had not attended detention but my hopes were dashed when the Head entered the hall and assembly got under way. The usual singing of hymns and saying of prayers was followed by announcements from the Head, one of which was that he wanted to see the following boys in his office immediately after assembly. There were two names one of which was inevitably mine which meant any hope of avoiding the cane had just disappeared. After dismissal from assembly I made my way to the Head's office and waited outside with my fellow transgressor. I didn't know him well but after a brief conversation he told me that he was there because he had forgotten to attend prefect's detention. We both knew the consequences of our forgetfulness and just stood silently awaiting our fate.
It wasn't long before the Head appeared at his door and invited the other boy into his office. After a short while and some mumbled conversation I heard a loud smack as the cane met its target to be followed by a further two whacks at about 10 second intervals. Strangely, I could feel my underpants clinging to my bottom as if to try and offer that part of me some protection from its forthcoming ordeal. After about another minute the other boy appeared at the door with moist eyes and his hands clutching the back of his trousers, clearly in some pain from what had taken place. He walked stiffly away at which point I was ushered inside. I was asked to explain my absence from the detention by the Headmaster but was unable to offer any explanation other than I forgot. I can still remember the Headmaster's words when he glanced at the cane which was still lying on his desk, "I'm sure this will help you to remember in the future."
At this point he opened a draw and removed a book in which he entered my name, date and the words "3 strokes on seat". This left me in no doubt as to what was about to happen.
I was instructed to bend over which I did without delay wanting now to get my ordeal over. I felt the back of my blazer folded so that my bottom was only protected by a thin pair of trousers and underpants. I waited for what seemed an age before I felt the cane laid across my seat followed by a swish and a loud whack as it bit into my tender backside. Momentarily I felt nothing and then an awful sting pervaded the part that had been caned. I remained in position knowing that there were two further instalments. After about 10 seconds another swish and an equally painful whack as the cane made contact with the lower half of my behind. The third one quickly followed and landed on top of a previous stroke resulting in sheer agony as my poor bottom absorbed the final stroke. I rose from my bending position and after a reminder not to forget to attend detention in the future was summarily dismissed.
I made my way to the boy's toilets where I met my fellow miscreant who was examining his small, wheal-striped bottom in the mirror. He was almost crying so I tried to put on a brave face but was quite shocked when after lowering my own trousers saw the results of the Headmaster's cane in the mirror. On the lower half of my backside were two wheals, one thicker and darker than the other where the cane had struck on the same line. My bottom really hurt and continued to sting for the rest of the day. The marks lasted for more than a week and what added insult to injury was that I still had to serve the detention. Needless to say I didn't forget a second time.
|Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15|