They were all waiting for me on the verandah, looking very serious. I unlocked the door and ushered them inside. Then, following Mr Evans example, I locked us all inside.
"Go into the changing room," I said, "and get undressed. Have a piss and then come upstairs."
They disappeared into the back of the pavilion. None of them spoke a word. They were too frightened to say anything. I went up to the tea room and put the desk in position. I opened the lid and got the straps out. Then I closed it again and fastened the catch that Mr Evans had added to stop the desk opening while a boy was strapped down to it. Then I lay out the canes and the bottle of witch-hazel on a table. I took off my jacket and rolled up my sleeves. I was ready, though my heart was pounding now and I was far from certain that I could do the job effectively.
They reappeared almost immediately. Obviously they were keen to get the business over and done with. So was I, but I was determined that it would be done properly.
They were a good-looking set of boys, Ill say that for them. There were a couple of porky boys Id seen around the school but these were all strong-looking, well set up lads, who all looked as if they would try to take their medicine bravely.
Id seen Ashford whipped before, and Mr Evans told me that he was the boy who had had six every day for a week. He was a strong, beefy boy with broad shoulders and deep chest. His hair was almost black. He stood with his hands clasped in front of him but I could see his thick pubic bush that trailed up towards his navel.
Id never consciously seen Passmore before, but he reminded me of Russell, the first boy I saw whipped. He had ginger curly hair and his body was very pale. His muscles were strongly defined and there wasnt an ounce of fat on him. Hed been circumcised and his prick was thin and tapered.
The younger boys all looked scared half to death. Shelley was the tallest, with blond curly hair. He was kind of skinny, but you could see the strength in his arms. I couldnt see any pubic hair, but his prick had grown. It was uncircumcised and sort of short and stubby, sticking straight out.
Davis, standing next to him, was also blond, but he was a good deal shorter and a muscly little devil. He looked the most immature and he covered his groin with his hands.
Next to him was Lawford, who had darker hair and wore glasses. He kept hitching them up his nose. When he did that you could see his prick and just the beginnings of pubic hair. He was going to be a strong lad, give him a year or two.
Downey had dark hair, cut short on his head and good and bushy above his slender, circumcised prick. A slim boy, but not weak at all.
Pole was sort of foreign looking – darker than the others anyway. He was well-hung for a boy of thirteen too, his prick uncircumcised and dangling down.
And lastly Skinner, who was like a younger version of Ashford, a solid customer, with just the last traces of puppy fat round his waist. There were only a wisp or two of hair in his groin, but his prick too had started to swell.
This wasnt the first time Id caned Skinner. In fact, Id had him over the desk three times, which must have been a record for a boy of his age. It happened like this.
Prefects and masters give out what they call blacks for bad work or behaviour that isnt quite bad enough for a whacking. They all have little books that they write the blacks down in, and every week we collect the books in and write up the punishment records for each boy. We collect the masters books Saturday lunchtime and the prefects after breakfast on Monday. We have these loose-leaf files and every boy has a page in the file and all their punishments – every slippering and caning and detention or learning lines as well as the blacks – are listed on their page. It takes a fair old while to copy them all out I can tell you.
If a boy gets three blacks in a week the head prefect summons him and slippers his backside for him; if he gets five hes up to Mr Starling for the cane, and if he gets ten then hes in for a whipping from us. No boy ever gets ten. Hed have to be a _f_u_c_k_ing lunatic to behave that badly. We just make up a list for Duckering, the head prefect, and another for Mr Starling, telling them which boys they have to whack, and thats the last we know of it till their punishment books come in the following week with the whackings theyve dished out listed. Duckering calls them out of prep on Monday evenings; Mr Starling calls them down from bed on Monday night, so theyre just wearing pyjamas.
I was doing the lists one Monday morning when I noticed that this lad Skinner in the second form had got seven blacks during the week, and hed also been slippered three times and Mr Donnelly had strapped him. I wouldnt have thought much about it except that his page was full so I had to start a second page for him. I examined his record a bit more closely and discovered that during the Easter Term hed earned enough blacks for a whacking eight weeks out of ten – five slipperings and three canings. And now, here he was with nearly enough blacks to earn a whipping.
I showed Mr Evans, who said, "Obviously not learning, is he? Ill speak to Mr Starling."
Later that day he announced, "Master Skinner is ours." I dont know what I expected, but I was almost shocked by the lack of seriousness.
We fetched Skinner out of his lesson, which was maths. Mr Evans gave him the standard instruction. "Have a crap. Take your towel. Wait for us by the cricket pavilion."
When we walked down there ten minutes later, he was waiting on the verandah and Mr Evans let us into the building.
"Go into the changing room and undress. Then come upstairs."
The boy said nothing. Mr Evans manner was such that boys felt incapable of arguing with him, and five minutes later there was Skinner, stark naked, looking scared to death.
"Now, you may think you havent got enough blacks for a whipping. But weve been looking at your record and its a pretty shocking one. Week after week youve been sent up for a whacking, but youre taking no notice, are you? The next week you go on behaving as though you dont care. So Mr Starling has decided you need dealing with properly. In a minute were going to strap you down over this desk here; were going to secure your wrists and ankles so you cant kick or wriggle. Then Mr Johnson here is going to whip your naked backside for you. Dyou think youll enjoy that?"
"No, sir."
"You dont have to sir me. Im not one of your masters. Were just the poor buggers who get the job of whipping you into line. And you neednt think that this whipping will be the end of it. From now on, every single black you get will mean two stripes of Mr Johnsons cane across your bare backside. So youd better think on, hadnt you?"
"Yes, Mr Evans."
"All right then. Go and lie down over the top of the desk."
Skinner did as he was told. He lay down and allowed Mr Evans to fasten the straps over his back, then the straps that cinched his ankles and wrists to the legs of the desk. His backside was solid and full of muscle. I could see a faint bruise left by the prefects gymshoes; there was a faded band of purple left by the strap and I could just make out a couple of stripes from a caning that looked about a week old.
Mr Evans held up both hands with the fingers spread to show how many I had to give him. He pointed to the line across the boys bottom I had to aim for, right where he was still bruised from the strap. I lay the cane across the bare flesh to let Skinner know where it was going to hit him, and to take aim. I stepped back a stride, wound myself up the way Id seen Mr Evans do it and threw myself into the first stroke, flicking my wrist at the last minute so that the tip of the cane was going at maximum speed when it hit him.
A second later he yelled so loud that it scared me. A red stripe had appeared across his bottom and there was a bead of blood at the end. Mr Evans put his thumb up and then indicated where the next one had to land, about half an inch lower than the first. I steeled myself and hit him again. He yelled again, but this time through his gritted teeth as though trying to keep his pain inside.
I hit the line exactly and went on doing it all through the punishment. I dont know how I was able to do it. I didnt think about it – just took aim and lashed the cane in and every time it landed just where Mr Evans indicated. I covered every inch of the lower half of his backside with red and purple stripes. For the last two Mr Evans indicated a sloping line that crossed the others. Skinner lifted the roof, all pretence of controlling his howling gone. There was blood from most of the crossing points, which scared me a bit, but Mr Evans had said that a bit of blood wasnt worth getting upset over.
The boy lay there kind of whimpering. I could see the swelling coming up along the stripes made by the cane. I wanted to let him up but Mr Evans always insisted on them lying there for a couple of minutes while the pain was at its worst. It was part of the punishment.
We let him limp off to the shower eventually and then he came back and bent over the desk again for me to paint his stripes with the witch-hazel. I was amazed by the heat coming off the weals. He was still limping as he crossed the games field, one very well-whipped young lad.
For the next week I had to put up with Mr Evans teasing me about it, saying Id got excited by the sight of Skinners arse and how Id get a reputation as a hard man, the one all the boys hoped wasnt on duty when they were sent for a whipping. Like a lot of teasing, it was quite nice – sort of a sign that I was accepted.
For two weeks Skinner was perfect, not even any lines to write. But then – two blacks. Mr Evans sent me to see to him on my own. Once he was strapped down over the desk I could examine the state of his backside. It had been three weeks since his whipping, but I could still see most of the weals still. They were blue lines across the white of his skin.
I gave him four, right across the tender area, and he howled again. And then the Easter holidays intervened. I suppose he thought things would be back to normal when they came back for the next term. He started out with three in the first week. I gave him another six, during which he broke down completely, crying and begging me not to whip him any more, so we reckoned hed learned his lesson and put him back on the normal regime. He was still a naughty boy, but not out of control like he was before.
I surveyed the line of naked boys. This was a hell of a job facing me.
"Gentlemen – since Im on my own here youll all be strapped down over the desk." Here Ashford almost started a protest, but I went straight on. "And Im going to start with Skinner. Come to the desk please."