Headmaster's Traditional Monday Morning


by Yestimesyes <Yestimesyes@hotmail.com>

The following story is based on fact. The author is totally opposed to non-consensual corporal punishment, and totally opposed to adults abusing children. Adults should play with adults ONLY.

I remain one of the youngest, most enthusiastic and vigorous Headmasters within the English schools system. I am also, in every way, a conservative and passionate traditionalist.

We are only a few weeks into this new academic Term and, as you may be aware, we in England are now suffering greatly from this wettest of months across our nation, but I am pleased to report that the weather is not uniformly bad in all parts of the country. Indeed, today, Monday, my garden pond was frozen when I woke at 4 am and remained frozen as I left for school at 5.30am under clear blue sky.

My school day starts early, no matter what the weather, and indeed I was positively joyful to wake this day to such a splendid, bracing, biting, crisp Monday morning: hard, austere, demanding, and splendidly unforgiving. I was quickly alert, and more than set fair for a fine school day as my car pulled into the school drive where in the semi-darkness the school caretaker was busy gritting and salting the inner school roads.

I like to have the entire day's paperwork out of the way by 10 am in order that I may devote my day to the boys' education. I remain ever vigilant to assert and maintain standards, the more so as winter sets in and boys assume that they can ' get away with ' more. Sloppy dress, dirty shoes, laxity, bad language, . . . not an hour of my day passes without my keeping a sharp lookout for boys who infringe any of the school rules. My Secretary is ever ready from the end of Assembly at 9 am to have boys attend the outer office of my study in preparation for the rigorous attention that likely awaits them beyond the double doors to their Headmaster's study, and well used also to attending to these same boys afterwards in the small room off the outer office where she often administers medicinal comforts to boys' soundly spanked bare buttocks. She knows my methods well by now and knows well that I invariably take a boy's underpants right down put him across my knee and spank him soundly with my hand to our mutual satisfaction; headmaster and grateful pupil in perfect accord, advancing together in our quest for educational excellence.

However, I am not, by any means, passively, weakly, waiting for the attendance of offenders at my Study. I take particular pleasure in walking my black Labrador around the school playing fields in order to check on the dress and deportment of boys taking their physical education. Many a time also will I cross from my study to the gymnasium or to the swimming pool, these located across the driveway of the school directly opposite my office.

The swimming pool was built on my own personal initiative and indeed I have fiercely resisted the attempts by school governors to have either the building or the water heated in any way: there is no need whatsoever for such a move; there is no more edifying and encouraging sight on a bitter freezing cold Monday morning, such as today, than to see boys lined up on the side of the pool in their swimming trunks waiting the command from the Physical Education instructor to enter the water immediately; it is at such moments that I know beyond doubt that traditional educational methods and are very firmly back.

My regime of zero tolerance is being ever extended. This year I have made clear to all boys that failure to bring to school the right equipment for gym will simply entail the culprit undertaking physical instruction without the clothes that he has been so lazy and foolish to leave behind at home. So far this Term three boys have had an hour's PE dressed only in their underpants, to the amusement of their fellows I am sure.

Wright. 13. Intelligent, sensitive, middle class boy. Too many video games, too little homework. Too many trivial pursuits on his mind. And hair above the collar ! Hair above the collar ? The one offence that irritates me more than any other. The sloppy, effeminate, casual, lazy, nonsense of such arrogance. At least once a term I wait in the main corridor as boys file in from the playground for Assembly at 8.45. Wright was one of four boys who found themselves being yanked suddenly backwards by their collars at the strong experienced hand of their Headmaster. My message to the culprits was clear: well above the collar by tomorrow morning at Assembly, or report to the girl's school.

It was only at 9.15 that news filtered through to me from his class teacher that Wright had forgotten his dinner money too. I made a note to lecture the boy tomorrow morning when he presents the back of his head to me at 8.45 sharp as I sweep into Assembly and the boys strike up in morning praise.

There was still a satisfying frost on the grass, and ice on the edges of the school drive where the caretaker had not placed salt or grit, as I strode energetically and enthusiastically to the swimming pool building after I signed my last letter for my Secretary at 10 am. Yet more satisfyingly I could see my breath as I entered the breeze block construction with its transparent plastic-glass roof, whilst the boys were changing in the simple breeze block changing room.

It was then that the physical education master informed me that one boy could not change because he had forgotten his swimming trunks. Wright. The first occasion ever on which a pupil has forgotten his swimming trunks. Due I suppose to his struggle even to get out of his warm bed to face the rigours of this most excellently testing day. I reassured the swimming master that this would not be a problem; I was personally aware of the boy and was already closely monitoring his school day and would take charge of the matter forthwith.

So, as usual, twenty pale white 13 year olds emerged shivering from the changing room and upon the whistle of the swimming master lined up on the side of the pool awaiting instruction. The temperature was a most excellent 39 Fahrenheit, which I found surprisingly high considering the colder day outside; and I attributed this great heat to the plastic-glass roof trapping some few minutes of sunshine in dawn. 39F is more than hot enough and unquestionably the right temperature for the building of stamina and character.

First though was a matter in hand. At the changing room side of the pool I took the single wooden chair which is reserved for the swimming instructor and placed it between the changing room and the edge of the pool. I then instructed Wright to stand beside me and to undress, there and then, for swimming instruction without trunks, and, of course, without underpants. I then lectured the waiting boys, all of whom had turned to watch, that this is the way we would be proceeding from now on if a boy failed to bring his swimming trunks to school. I then mentioned that this particular pupil had also forgotten his lunch money and that his hair length, and indeed it's cut, in the style of a particular group in the popular music charts, was an infringement of school rules. Without hesitation or further explanation I pulled the naked boy over my lap and proceeded to spank his bare buttocks. As far as I could see all shivering stopped as the swimming class watched and waited in considerable trepidation as I administered the firmest and soundest spanking which quickly turned Wright's bare buttocks more than adequately scarlet. The swimming hall echoed satisfyingly to the sound of his rigorous instruction and ensured that all boys were treated not only to the visual but also the aural experience that would enforce in their young minds the importance of standards of conduct and attention to detail which I expect and require at this school. I timed the instruction by my watch and administered the soundest of spankings for a full five minutes, before releasing the grateful boy to rejoin his colleagues. Seamlessly with the blow of his whistle the Swimming Master then ordered the class into the water, and the swimming session began.

Or that, at least, was the theory. I was immediately concerned and deeply angered to see that two pupils instead of jumping into the clean clear water had decided to enter by sitting on the side of the pool and lowering themselves slowly, gently, into the water, at their convenience, and so as not to upset the delicacy of their morning metabolisms and constitutions, and, I presume, in order not to unduly wake them from their lingering slumbers. Instantly I signalled to the swimming master and he blew his whistle and instructed both boys out of the pool. They were then told to report to me back at the changing room end. But before they had even climbed out of the water I was already returning from the swimming cupboard from where I had taken the remedial cane kept especially when extra instruction is required.

I am not a believer in discussion or explanation. Boys know when they have failed to conduct themselves to the standards expected. I took down the swimming trunks of both boys and in their standing positions administered a vigorous spanking to each, so loud that it echoed about the boys now standing in the water and watching despite the efforts of their master to continue the lesson. I then ordered the first lad to touch his toes and administered ten hard strokes of the cane to his wet bare buttocks. The strokes were laid on slowly, with a deliberate and considered firmness intended to underline for the boys the full seriousness of the Latin motto of the school, the precise translation of which is ' to advance with unhesitating fortitude into the hostile unknown ' . Truly I intend that all boys under my instruction will leave this school thoroughly immersed in the importance of tradition and standards.

I was instructing the second lad to touch his toes when I noticed him smirk towards a friend in the water. I do not know the significance of this signal but from knowledge of the boy's character I would say it was a combination of that cheekiness and unthinking stupidity which is unique to the fellow. I presume such pupils consider that punishment methods are so well established and routine in my school that one gets used to the strict ethos and methods and can predict the limits of the consequences of breaching the rules. This is the one side of the school regime upon which I am determined to work this new academic year. There should be nothing predictable about school for boys; nothing that gives them release from the tensions and stresses of each minute of each school day. I think the 13 year old was therefore more than surprised when I yanked down his swimming trunks and taking his upper body under my arm bent him over in his standing position, presenting his bare buttocks to the watching boys and applied a fast, furious and prolonged spanking to his bare buttocks and upper thighs in the grandest and most traditional manner. Only when fully satisfied that I then had the full attention of the boy, and his friend in the water, quickly I then led him to the chair turned him over my knee and spanked him as soundly as any headmaster can benefit a boy across his knee, until not a ripple could be seen even in the swimming pool full of boys. It was then, and only then, that we commenced the vigorous and mutually satisfying caning that would otherwise have sufficed in the case of his original error. This second caning was of course administered far harder and more deliberately even than that which I had administered to his class-mate. I made certain that the boy's legs were apart and his penis, testicles and anus were readily and satisfactorily visible to the class also, that is to say properly exposed for his fellows in the fullness of his gratitude for the attentions of guiding authority, and without the nonsense of modesty for a 13 year old in the presence of his peers and a fully understanding young headmaster; thus offering to all present the sheer, pure and exhilarating spectacle of total submission and renewal which am convinced brings about the rapid and fundamental change so necessary within the erring schoolboy.

I ordered the two grateful boys back into the pool. They pulled up their swimming trunks and, without the slightest hesitation, jumped into the welcoming icy cold water to soothe their fiery buttocks. With a short sharp whistle from their Master, the class lesson recommenced.

I was aware of the lingering hush amongst the boys as I maintained my ever vigilant presence, slowly walking around the pool observing that all conduct was fully in order. Even within the next ten minutes I had occasion to order a boy from the water and spank his buttocks hard several times over his wet trunks before ordering him to jump back in and rejoin his class there to assume a more orderly and obedient manner.

Finally I joined the boys in the changing rooms as they dried off after their lesson. I noticed a distinct nervousness as they each took down their trunks in my presence, for they know of my reputation for impromptu exemplary spanking, which I will administer once or twice each day in school corridors, classrooms and even the dining hall, for offences such as talking loudly, lack of attention, carelessness, running, etc. I noticed that one boy had by his clothes brown shoes rather than the regulation black shoes required under school rules. Rather than discuss the matter with him I applied my hand to his damp cold bare buttocks, in the hardest, finest tradition.

This is the way forward I am certain. The era of namby pamby molly coddling of modern day boy must give way once again to the hardship and rigours of traditional education. The short sharp shock of corporal correction, administered with enthusiasm to the well bared buttocks of wayward pupil by firm commanding headmaster is the only basis for the sound education of errant youth, and the only sure foundation upon which to build their futures.

Now in my school office at the end of this most satisfactory day, I pour myself a very small, very dry, British sherry, and reflect finally upon the unheated swimming pool. I cannot help but consider it a particularly fine addition to the school, and one by which I may be remembered by future generations. I am somewhat concerned however that, perhaps, upon reflection, the plastic-glass roof was mistake, maybe introducing the element of unnecessary warmth ? As I look up I am somewhat minded to hope that this unnecessary liberal appendage, this decorative frill, may be blown clean away in the forecast gales, and that next Monday morning I may have occasion to give energetic and sound corporal instruction to boys in the infinitely satisfying context of the bracing, traditional, British outdoors.

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