Peter Vaughan knew he was in serious trouble. I had turned my back on the demonstration bench to help two boys with their practical write-up. Vaughan and two of his friends thought it would be fun to repeat the demonstration that I had just given on the dangers of liquids with low flash points. He poured a generous measure of methylated spirits into the trough and set light to it. The first I knew of it was the whoosh of the flame and the shouts of alarm from the three boys. Fortunately the flame had burnt out very quickly but it had shot up in the face of the other two boys. I didnt think they were burned, only rather shaken with singed eyebrows and hair, but I sent them off to the sanatorium to make sure.
As a 22 year-old teacher in my first year of teaching I knew my authority and ability to deal with an incident of this gravity was limited and so I had told Vaughan that I would take him to the Head of Science after the lesson. I neednt have bothered, a message came from the Headmaster informing me that Vaughan and I were both to report to him immediately after the lesson, which was the last of the school day. Clearly he had been alerted to the incident by a report from Matron, who had treated the other two boys.
What do you suppose will happen to me? said the rather scared 13 year old as we went down to the Heads study in the administration block.
I dont know. I replied. It depends on whether he sees this as seriously as I do. Your behaviour was utterly irresponsible. You could easily have hurt yourself and the other boys very seriously, not to mention burned down the laboratories. I expect you are looking at a suspension as a minimum.
The boy nodded sadly. My dad will kill me. He said. He was so proud that I was going off to his old school. If I get suspended hell beat me so hard that I wont be able to sit down for a week.
The headmaster called for us to enter when we knocked at his door and looked at us both gravely: Explain what happened, Mr Smythe. I recounted the incident as fully as I could and the head then interrogated Vaughan. What do you think you were playing at? he demanded. Vaughan just mumbled inaudibly and mumbled a slightly more audible apology.
I began to feel sorry for him and spoke up: Dr Jones, I dont want to make excuses for Vaughans behaviour, but I realize that I am inexperienced and I should not have allowed the boys to be able to get to such dangerous chemicals. Im really sorry about that.
Hmm. Well we can talk about that later. The fact is that Vaughan has behaved in a manner that he knew was dangerous and irresponsible. Normally I would consider suspension or even expulsion, but in view of what you say, perhaps I might consider a lesser punishment. Vaughan, he said, turning to the boy: Ill give you a choice. You can either be suspended for a fortnight and be sent home where I know your father will deal with you properly, or I shall cane you now. If you choose the latter I shall give you six strokes. Which is it to be?
A look of slight relief came over the boys face. I think I shall take the caning, Sir.
Right. Well Mr Smythe can stay to watch the proceedings. Take your jacket off, lower your trousers and bend over this chair.
Lower my trousers? I could tell that Vaughan was shocked by this request.
You heard me. As I said, this is a serious matter for which suspension would normally be the punishment. I intend to punish you severely. If you prefer I will use the senior cane on your trousers instead of the junior cane on your underpants.
Vaughan slowly removed his jacket whilst he considered the options. I think he was seeking to avoid the humiliation of having to drop his trousers in front of me, whom previously he had liked. I was unsure what our future relationship would be like. After a few seconds he dropped his trousers and shuffled up to bend over the chair whilst the head removed a cane from his cupboard. The head raised the cane and brought it down in a terrifying swish. Vaughan had gritted his teeth, clearly well-used to beatings from his father, and emitted no more than a high-pitched grunt. I was so absorbed by the impact of the cane on his underpants and the involuntary twitch of his whole body that the second stroke landed without me expecting it. The next four followed with spacings of about fifteen to twenty seconds. As he finished Vaughan stood slowly, clutching his buttocks. Tears were streaming down his face but otherwise he has taken a beating that many older boys would have made much more of a fuss of. I had found the whole experience quite electrifying and I was looking forward to reliving the experience in the privacy of my own flat.
OK. You can go. said the headmaster as Vaughan pulled his trousers up and replaced his jacket. My Smythe, I would like a word before you go. He motioned me to a chair and I sat down facing him across his desk. Tell me. What was your safety assessment for that demonstration?
I confess that I didnt do one. I said. It was a simple demonstration and I didnt think it merited the trouble.
The head frowned. Suppose the boys had been more seriously injured, involving a hospital visit. The school could have been seriously affected if it transpired that you had failed to carry out standard school procedures.
Yes. I am sorry about that. I said.
Sorry? So you should be. Furthermore, I consider that your supervision of the boys must have been very lax for them to have been able to access the demonstration bench without your noticing. he went on.
Yes. Its an experience I shall learn from. I said, rather taken aback by his aggressive questioning.
Well, I shall have to report this to the school board, who take health and safety issues very seriously. They will have to consider whether to confirm your contract at the end of your probationary year with us.
I was shocked. In confessing to him at the outset my poor judgement I had never imagined that my job could be at risk. The head watched my face. There is an alternative. Lets face it. Im old enough to be your father, whereas you are only about eight or nine years older than those boys. I am prepared to do what I have done before with other young teachers. I can give you a beating - just like Vaughan, six strokes – as a lesson to you and that will be the end of it. Or I can report the matter to the Board.
I was now not only shocked but amazed. Here was the headmaster, my employer, proposing to treat me like one of the boys in the school. I dont know what to say, Sir. realizing, as I said it that I was addressing him as the boys do, rather than as Dr Jones. I need time to consider it.
Thats fair enough. I realize that what I am proposing may seem a little unusual. If you choose the beating I will, as with Vaughan, beat you across one layer of clothing. So I suggest that you consider the option and either leave me to report to the Board or return here at 5.30 dressed in a thin pair of shorts under your track suit. As he said this he indicated that the interview was over and I rose to leave the room. I walked back to my flat in some confusion. It was not what I had expected and I was uncertain how to react. As I turned it over in my mind I knew though that I would accept the beating. I had been beaten at school on many occasions, though never across just a thin pair of shorts. It couldnt be much worse than that. As I thought about it I was even a little turned on by the thought of returning to my school days. I began to think about what the headmaster himself got out of this and decided that I would make it as pleasurable as possible for him as well. So I selected a thin pair of white shorts that would cover my buttocks adequately but leave little to the imagination. I also put on a white t-shirt and my tracksuit and waited nervously for 5.30. I knew that he had left it an hour and a half before my punishment to allow time for all the other staff to leave the administration block at the end of the day and was grateful for that.
Shortly before the time was up I wandered back to his office, trying to look casual to anyone who saw me. They probably thought I was off to the gym for some exercise. As I entered the heads study he welcomed me surprisingly warmly. Im glad youve seen sense. This will be over in a matter of minutes and you will have learnt a valuable lesson but still be able to continue to a successful career. Now take off your track suit and come forward to the chair.
I suppose you will be using the senior cane on me? I said with a false note of lightness in my voice.
Oh no. he said. For these rare occasions and also a few very serious offences by senior boys I reserve an old cane that was given to me by a friend who retired from being head of an approved school. ( a reformatory) As he spoke he produced the most fearsome looking rattan cane I had ever seen and I began to realize that I might be in for a little more than a standard school beating. I felt a sudden chill in my stomach and a tightening of the muscles in my bowels. There was no way I wanted that cane on my buttocks. Right now. Bend over the chair.
But, Im beginning to have second thoughts. I mumbled.
What? Not man enough to face up to a beating? he said scornfully. You look pretty manly to me and I can tell you that more than one other teacher has been through what you are about to receive. My pride would not let me give into that challenge and I resolutely bent over and awaited my fate. The first stroke came quickly before I was really ready and I let out a yell of pain. It was worse than I could possibly have imagined. I jumped up, looking and feeling distressed.
Come on. said the head, Vaughan managed to stay down for six.
Sorry, I said through gritted teeth. That rather caught me by surprise. I bent over and clenched my teeth and muscles. The next one was even worse but I held my position and didnt utter a sound. After that, as the pain mounted, it somehow seemed easier to remain stoical. The pain was indescribable. The blows came just far enough apart for the pain of the previous one to really register before the cane struck again. At the end I stood painfully erect and put my hands gingerly to my buttocks where I could feel some bumps developing. There was no question of rubbing them. There were tears in my eyes and I was almost crying.
You actually took that well. said the head. I expected you to be crying by the end. However, if I ever have to do this to you again I must warn you that you most certainly will be crying by the time I finish.
I carefully put my tracksuit trousers back on and left the heads office walking carefully so as to cause the minimum friction on my buttocks. As I left the administration block I was met by my friend and colleague, Tom Adams, the junior PE teacher. He had been teaching at the school for about two years longer than me.
You look as though Dr Jones has just given you a beating! he said.
How do you know? I said hotly. I had thought that this was a private thing between me and the head.
Oh dont worry. he said. I can tell by the way you are walking. I was beaten twice by him in my first year of teaching. Why dont you come home for a drink and I will tell you all about it. So we fell in together and went back to his house. He had better accommodation than me, being married to a gorgeous young blond called Mary, though they did not yet have children. As we arrived at his home he greeted Mary with an affectionate kiss and said: Adrian here has just a caning from the Doc.
Tom! I said. Does everyone need to know?
Know what? said a girls voice, which was followed by the girl herself as she walked into the lounge. She was tall and willowy, about 20 years old and with dark hair, cut short. Despite the different hair colour it was easy to recognise her as Marys sister, a deduction that was immediately confirmed:
Oh Adrian, meet my sister, Claire. Shes a final year student at Loughborough. said Mary. Claire, meet Adrian whos suffering a little from a sore bottom, about which I am sure he will tell you. I blushed deeply, already captivated by this attractive girl. Come on Tom. Get Adrian a drink.
What he really needs, apart from a drink, is the tender treatment you gave me. said Tom.
Maybe. But Im a married woman! laughed Mary. Before I could work out what this exchange was about I was being asked by Claire to tell my story which, reluctantly, I did.
What Mary is referring to, said Tom later, Is the occasions when she gently rubbed cream into my sore buttocks after my beatings. I wonder whether Claire would like to oblige? A mischievous twinkle appeared in Claires eyes. Well Claire? continued Tom. Well be nearby if Adrian starts to get too frisky. Why dont you take him into the spare bedroom?
Claire beckoned me with her eyes and, before I knew what I was really doing, I followed her into the spare bedroom which I could see she was using as hers at the time.
Why dont you take off your t-shirt and lie down on the bed? Ill give you a back massage to help you relax. she said. Meekly I obeyed and as she started a wonderfully gentle but firm massage I asked what she was studying. Sports Science was the reply. We do a unit about sports injuries and their treatment. You seem to have been involved in a rather unusual sport, but I am sure I can help you feel better.
She carried on for a few minutes, massaging my shoulders and lower back and then, so subtly that she had done it before I realized it, she linked her fingers into the waistband of my shorts and pulled them down. By now I was sufficiently relaxed not to be embarrassed. She let out a low whistle: My, your cheeks are really black and blue. Do you want to have a look? She passed me a mirror off the dressing table and I looked over my shoulder at the mass of bruises.
It actually doesnt feel as bad as it looks, though thats bad enough. I said.
Well this lotion should help. Its supposed to relieve inflammation. So saying she gently began to massage a cool lotion into my sore buttocks. Gradually the pain faded and the touch of her fingers really turned me on. She must have seen the way I arched my body, for she said with a laugh: I expect you have something red and swollen on the other side of your body. and without any further comment she stretched her hand under my body and started masturbating me. I turned slightly to one side to give her more room and allowed her to finish the job.
That was wonderful. I said at last. I wish I could do the same for you.
I would live you to. she said.
Are you expecting a caning from someone? I joked.
No. But you could cane me first. she said more seriously.
I wasnt sure whether she was joking but decided to press forward with the opening she had given me. How about coming to dinner tomorrow and we talk about it further? I said.
That would be great!
What happened next is another story; suffice it to say for now that I ended up marrying Claire six months after she graduated.