In the post this morning I received a package that I had been waiting for. It contained five new canes. My previous ones were beginning to show signs of wear and while they remain fully serviceable I thought a few weeks ago that it was time to add to the supply I keep for the errant schoolboys who call on me from time to time. I had considered carefully what to buy and finally settled on five rattan senior canes, each about 90cm long and 1cm thick with a crook at one end, not unlike the ones I remember delivering a tremendous sting to my own bottom as a schoolboy. Having carefully checked each one and cut through the air a few times with each, listening to the satisfying swish I put them in the cupboard in my study, wondering when I would first get an opportunity to use one and settled down to do some work.
During the morning I was expecting a visit from a Telecom engineer who was to install an extra phone line for me, he was due at 10.00am so when he had not arrived at 12.30pm I was beginning to get cross. Just then the phone rang and it was the engineer who explained that his previous job had taken longer than expected and that he would not be at my house until 2.00pm. I was not very pleased and told him so at which point he became very apologetic. As I could do nothing about this I had no option but to wait until the engineer arrived, there were things that I wanted to do during the afternoon but having the new line installed was important.
Just after 2.00pm the doorbell rang and it was the engineer, I let him in, he was about 30, 1.7m tall and quite slim with a ruddy complexion, his cropped blond hair had probably been a severe crew cut about three weeks ago, he wore the standard maroon polo shirt and navy uniform trousers. I led him into the study where he immediately apologised again for his late arrival, I was still irritated and was not going to let him off so lightly. I showed him where I wanted the new line box and he bent down to look at the old cables. My eyes were immediately drawn to his rounded bottom that filled out his trousers. He stood up again and said that he was going to get tools from his van and left the room, my eyes followed him out and I noticed again how well formed his bottom was. I thought for a moment then got one of my new canes out of the cupboard and laid it across my desk, partly covering it with some papers as though it was always there, if there was a spark of interest from him, he would notice it and things would take their course, if not, nothing was lost. I sat down at the desk and continued my work. The engineer returned and started work, he started to chat but I was quite curt with my responses indicating that I was still cross that my day had been mostly wasted. I wasn't really watching but he was beginning to drill holes in the wall for the new box when I heard him curse, I looked up, the box was no where near where I had told him to put it and he had just realised that. I was more cross now and told him so in no uncertain terms and that I would be looking to Telecom for compensation for his lateness and the holes that he had drilled in my newly decorated wall.
He came over to the desk, very apologetic and stood in from of me, I could definitely see signs of stirring in his trousers and wondered what he was really thinking. I eased the paper back making the sight of the cane more obvious as he apologised once more, he told me that he had had a really bad couple of days and that he was finding it difficult to concentrate on his work. I told him that by the time I had finished complaining he would be lucky to have any work at all. He looked down at the desk and started to tell me that as a teenager when he behaved like this his father believed in what he called a 'sharp dose of reality'. I asked what that meant and he told me that his father was a strict man who had firmly believed in the use of the strap for his four sons and that while it was given for misbehaviour he had also given it when any of the boys spent too much time day dreaming.
I told him that I could understand his father's logic and that he sounded like a wise man but that I thought that at his age the 'sharp dose of reality' that was required should be delivered with the cane. He told me that he had been caned a few times at school, four strokes across his trousers on each occasion.
Without further comment I lifted the cane from the desk and flexed it in front of him, he was still standing in front of my desk and his eyes never left the cane, I swished it through the air a couple of times and I could see him gulp. I decided to take control of the situation and stepped to one side of the desk.
'I'm going to give you the sharp dose of reality that you clearly need', I said. 'If you had had it earlier today, you might have been on time and you might not have drilled my wall in the wrong place, drop your trousers and underpants and bend over the desk.' I ordered. He looked startled and started to unfasten his trousers, he dropped them and then his underpants, a pair of white Sloggi briefs I noticed, his bottom was firm and rounded with the marks of swimming trunks where he had obviously sunbathed a few weeks ago. He bent forward. 'Open your legs wider,' ordered, tapping the cane on the inside of his knees. He shuffled his feet apart. His bottom was now a perfect target, firm and round and waiting for the cane.
'I'm going to give you eight', I said, 'you will count each stroke, if you forget or miscount we will start again, do you understand?' He nodded and said yes, I drew the cane across his bottom and watched it twitch in anticipation as I judged the best position to take up. I drew the cane back and brought it down swiftly across the centre of his bottom, for a split second there was no reaction then as a deep red weal began to appear he gasped. 'One,' I heard him say, I drew the cane back again and brought it down again, placing the second stroke just below the first, again he gasped and this time a more anguished 'Two,' fell from his lips. Allowing a few seconds for the weal to develop I drew back and delivered the third stroke right into the crease, this time he howled and almost screamed 'Three,' I delivered the fourth stroke just below the second and then the fifth below that. He was obviously now in real pain and I was sure that tears were beginning to fall on my desk top. I gave the sixth and seventh in a diagonal across the other strokes and then brought the eighth in right on the crease again on top of the existing weal. 'Eight,' he cried. I stood back to admire my handiwork, what had a few moments before been a flawless white bottom was now covered in a very satisfactory collection of weals. I put the cane back down on the desk.
'You may get up and pull up your underpants and trousers,' I said, slowly the guy stood and I watched him ease his underpants over his stinging bottom, obviously feeling the ridges left by the cane, then his trousers. 'Right,' I said, now that you understand that I don't tolerate poor work, I want this job finishing.' Slowly he made his way back to his tools and started work. I watched him, knowing that his bottom was blazing and that he probably wanted nothing more than to rub it.
He finished the job and tidied up, getting ready to leave. He put his tools in the van and came back in, I looked up at him expectantly. 'Thank you sir,' he said, I needed that and it has been too long in coming. May I ask you a favour?' I nodded. 'May I call back from time to time when I need a dose of reality?'
'Yes,' I replied, 'you may, but I won't always go as easy on you as I did today, but think for now you have learned a lesson.' We shook hands and he left, I put the cane back in the cupboard and sat back at my desk, wondering if the next person he called on would realise that he was a Telecom engineer with an exceptionally sore bottom!