Charlie - Part 2


by Juan Santiago <Palizaus2000@yahoo.com>

Florence is Headmistress of the Templeton Institute, Helen Duryea, the headmasters wife, continued. She wanted to talk to you about your system of discipline. She laughed. I guess you have answered her question ahead of time. As you see, Florence, my husband believes in corporal punishment for naughty boys.

Florence Templeton nodded, her eyes now also on the boys punished behind. I have always thought that for boys this is the best method. But before I introduce this in my school, I want to find out how girls should be dealt with. I couldnt punish them as severely as this boy here is being punished.

I should hope so, Alicia said with a little giggle. Do all the boys here get a whipping like this one? she asked.

Some more, some less, the headmaster replied with a smile. It depends on their age, physical condition, type of offence, and so on. This boy here is quite obdurate and needs special treatment. I caned him yesterday but with little effect. So Im trying again today. Eventually he will learn. Most boys do, as long as they are whipped long enough and hard enough.

Florence Templeton agreed. Boys can be so crude, vulgar and dirty. Thrashing their backsides is the only thing, I suppose.

What do you say, Charlie? the headmaster asked, smacking the little boys bottom with considerable force and eliciting a small squeak of pain.

Yes, sir, the boy replied automatically. He probably hadnt even understood what the grown-ups were talking about. He was too concerned with his throbbing, flaming backside.

Yes, what? Mrs. Templeton asked maliciously.

The boy was silent.

Answer the lady immediately! the headmaster snapped menacingly. Or do you want those extra six I just let you off from?

Oh, no, sir! the boy whimpered. I - I didnt hear the question, he added lamely.

Then why didnt you ask, boy? the headmasters wife asked. Why answer when you dont know the question? You are really a very stupid little boy.

If you care to sit over here, I will resume this boys punishment, the headmaster said, picking up the cane. Enough pain can do wonders for a boys brain. A cane across the backside helps to concentrate a boys mind, I can assure you.

The ladies sat and waited expectantly.

The cane rose and whistled down. The boys buttocks shook with the impact and the boy cried out.

Do you allow your boys to make such noise during a caning? Mrs. Templeton asked incredulously. I would demand absolute silence until the whipping is completed. Punishment is supposed to be a controlled affair, the disciplinarian should always be in control. The boy must be made to submit fully. There should be no letup until he obeys instantly and takes his whippings without so much as a murmur.

What do you suggest? the headmaster asked, whipping down the cane across the lower portions of the boys bottom, that area receiving most of the mans attention. The boy gurgled, coughed and howled.

I would cane him until he submits, Mrs. Templeton replied. When he has learned to keep quiet, you start the real caning. Its really quite simple and I have thought a lot about it. Cane and more cane until the boys spirit is thoroughly broken. You will have little trouble with him afterwards.

But the problems is what to do with the girls, Helen Duryea came back to the reason of their visit.

Lashing the cane across the bare bottom, the headmaster said, You obviously cant cane them. The best methods are withdrawing benefits, confinement and curfew. Girls arent that hard to manage and these measures should quite suffice to keep them in line. Its different with boys, of course.

Down came the cane and the boy sobbed and squirmed.

Three more times the cane seared into the bare flesh and the headmaster put down the cane.

Already finished? Alicia asked, disappointed. She had watched every stroke with great interest as it marked the boys bare bottom. Her mouth slightly open and her tongue flicking about like a serpents, she had been fascinated with the effect on the boys bottom. She had giggled at the boys howls.

This is the second set of six. Two more sets to go. Charlie, you may get up and stand in the corner. No, keep your shorts and pants where they are. Go and stand in the corner, hands on your head. If you move, Im going to start from the beginning.

There was a chorus of snickering and giggles as they all watched the boy shuffle awkwardly towards the corner, displaying his multi-coloured bottom.

Charlie stood, his nose pressed against the wallpaper, hands on the top of his head, his bottom a mass of burning stripes. He wept silently.

This was only a dozen? Mrs. Templeton asked, her eyes on the target. Should he be given a rest so soon?

Well, dont forget that he was caned yesterday. We usually have a short interval. It brings sensitivity back to his bottom, the headmaster explained. Also, he gets some time to reflect on his sins while he feels his weals swell up. Returning after 15 or 20 minutes for another set, makes it all the more painful.

Alicia laughed. He looks so funny standing there with his little shorts down. He must be dreading the next dozen that is still due him.

Yes, and that is also quite valuable. Not only does his bottom hurt quite badly, but he also knows that more is to come. Thats how the lesson sinks in, the headmaster said. His wife nodded.

Yes, you mustnt hurry a boys punishment. If its over too soon, he will forget it just as quickly. The longer it is drawn out, the longer he will remember it. I strongly believe in shaming the boy as well, Mrs. Templeton said. And this is something I use with the girls. Maybe the boy should be made to lie across my lap for a sound spanking in between the sets. Or Alicia might be asked to do the honours.

There was laughter all around while poor Charlie stood, face afire, sweating with embarrassment.

Thats a very good idea, Mrs. Duryea exclaimed. Charlie, come over here. Maybe he should be laid across Alicias lap while Florence administers the spanking.

Well, Charlie, you heard what Mrs. Templeton said. Get on with it! the headmaster ordered the red-faced boy. Reluctantly the child did as he was told and draped himself across the girls lap. Head and feet were well off the floor and Alicia had no trouble holding him down firmly as Mrs. Templeton went to work. She was a strong woman and she soon had the bare bottom bouncing under each hard slap. The boy writhed and squirmed about, trying desperately not to cry out. This would just have added to his humiliation.

But the spanking went on for so long, and was so hard, that the boy lost control and wept bitterly, silently at first, but gradually voicing his discomfort more and more loudly.

I will continue this until you are absolutely quiet, Mrs. Templeton said, smacking and smacking tirelessly the deeply striped and bruised bottom.

And she kept her word. The louder the boy yelped and squawked, the more spanks were applied until at last the boy managed to control his screams. He just lay there, softly moaning, as the womans hand slapped on.

At last, Mrs. Templeton declared herself satisfied and Alicia pushed the boy off her lap, taking the opportunity to land a smack of her own on the glowing, hot boy bottom. She rather enjoyed that.

The headmaster looked down at the boy as he lay on the floor. His face was wet with tears, the cheeks and ears red, his eyelids swollen. Excellent. That is how he wanted to see a boy. And I havent finished with you yet, he thought.

He picked up the cane. Bend over! he ordered the boy who was too tired and sore to put up any more fight. He was drained and he dragged himself across the back of the chair once more.

The cane whipped down.

George, put a little muscle into it, Mrs. Duryea exclaimed, half in jest because the stroke had been quite powerful. But the headmaster reacted to the encouragement and whipped the boy even harder. Despite his new resolve, Charlie howled in agony.

Thats better, Mrs. Templeton now joined the Greek chorus. I suggest you aim more for the inside of the buttocks and upper thighs. Those soft areas are more sensitive and it might do the boy some good. He better take off his shorts and pants so he can spread his feet wider, Alicia ventured into the conversation. That way you can reach those areas much more easily.

This advice was found good and the boy was ordered to act accordingly. He was instructed to straighten up, step out of his shorts and pants, fold them neatly and place them on the table on the far side of the room. Then it was back across the chair back but this time with the feet spread so far apart, the boy though his joints would crack.

And that was how the last set of six was administered. The lower buttocks, the under bum or the crease where buttocks join thighs, as well as the areas inside the upper legs and between the buttocks all received their fair share. Unfortunately for the boy, he made too much noise and Mrs. Templeton suggested the headmaster should finish off with another twenty of the tawse.

This could be done only after Alicia had offered to hold the boy down. She grasped the boys shoulders with both hands and pushed him down into the cushion as the tawse was handed to Mrs. Templeton to finish up.

When it was finally over, the boy was released and sent into the corner. There he stood, bare-bottomed, displaying a well-punished backside and a darkly wealed pair of thighs. He had to listen to the grown-ups as they graded his performance during the caning. They ranged from poor to failing.

It is obvious the boy needs further training, Mrs. Templeton said. Boys are reluctant to conform and only perseverance can change that. A daily dose of the cane or tawse will probably accomplish that.

And I will see to it that he gets it, the Headmaster said. Tomorrow his backside will have recovered enough for another little session with tawse and cane.

There should be no let up, no mercy for boys like this, Mrs. Templeton said in her icy voice, here eyes on the small boy sobbing in the corner. Make sure the other masters also give him a sound thrashing a few times a week to soften him up for his visits to your study. Hell soon be as pliable as an old, well-laundered handkerchief.

On this subject all in the room, except one small, half-naked figure, agreed.


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