In the late seventies, round about the age of thirteen, I developed a keen interest in both corporal punishment and short trousers, particularly when worn as school uniform. I was very confused about the strange feelings associated with these interests, having spent much of my school career to date avoiding both. Indeed, I had a deep seated fear of getting the "belt", what we called the Lochgelly tawse in this part of Scotland, having experienced it twice, once from my headmaster at primary school and once during first year at secondary, when the whole of my class of boys were punished for making too much noise in Gym class! And the last time I had worn any sort of shorts, let alone school shorts, was aged nine, although secretly I really wanted to be told to continue wearing them. I guess it was a battle between liking the feel and look of my bare knees against being a "big boy". What a strange thing the human psyche is! Anyway, here I was wearing shorts at every opportunity, as long as nobody could to see me, using a "tawse" Id made from a thin leather case strap on my own hands (not very successfully it must be said). By the age of fifteen Id bought my first pair of school shorts and often changed into them in the privacy of my own bedroom and when out walking the dog. I was occasionally seen outside, but never by anyone I knew. . And I would belt myself whenever I made a mistake in my homework one stroke for each mistake. Boy, how I wish now that Id had the courage to wear shorts all the time, particularly to school. Perhaps Id have been bullied, but maybe it would have been worth it. I wasnt until my late twenties and the advent of the Internet that I discovered that others out there harboured the same interests.
About this time I moved to an old house in a small village, sharing the property with my parents. A young boy, by the name of Rory, about nine years old, lived in the house across the road, with his Mother and her boyfriend. Rorys father lived nearby, but didnt seem interested in spending much time with his young son. Rory didnt get on well with his Mothers boyfriend and seemed rather lonely, much as I was, so I often chatted to him. Inevitably we became friends, eventually becoming "best friends". It is important to say at this point that there was never anything in the least "inappropriate" about this friendship, other than what I am about to relate, but there was certainly a very strong bond between the two of us. Over the next three or four years Rory spent much of his spare time with me and we did the things that all friends do going to the cinema, riding bikes, swimming and the like. I guess I was a surrogate father, big brother and best friend all rolled into one. Rorys mother was happy because Rory was happy, and his behaviour and work at school had improved significantly through my influence.
Like most older primary school boys, Rory wore long school trousers with his school uniform. Actually, I dont think any of the boys over the age of six wore shorts to his school, they were definitely only for small boys who hadnt learned to argue with Mum. I certainly steered the conversation round to school uniform on more than one occasion, saying how smart boys look in shorts, but he never took the hook and always changed the subject. Being realistic, there was no chance of this cute, fair-haired lad ever indulging my fantasies, so I took the hint and left the subject well alone.
When Rory was twelve and in his last few months at Primary School, we spent one Saturday at the local theme park. Rory was in a difficult mood and nothing I did seemed to please him he thought that all the rides were boring. Looking back, I guess I was partly to blame for these difficult moods, because I found it difficult trading off our best friend relationship whilst at the same time being the "responsible adult in charge". Anyway, suffice to say that by the middle of the afternoon my exasperation had reached an all-time high and I decided it was time to head for home. On the way back in the car, Rory asked why I was upset. I explained that we always did whatever he wanted and that he never seemed to want to do anything I suggested these days. I said that I didnt usually mind, but that as a friend he really should be more considerate. That brought a very long silence and I thought that he had gone into a sulk. Then suddenly he blurted out a suggestion that nearly caused me to drive off the road. "Ill wear shorts to school then", he said. I couldnt believe it, did he really say that? What a turn-up, he had clearly been listening to my comments about wearing shorts and must have been mulling over the possibility for some time, waiting for the right moment. "I know youd like me to wear them. That way I can show you Im really your best friend. Ill do something for you". I was in a quandary I loved the thought of Rory in school shorts, but I didnt want him to be bullied or embarrassed at school. But he was very insistent and I decided it would be fun to see how far he would go. So I decided to call his bluff "Okay, we can stop at Marks and Spencer on the way home Ill buy some shorts, but youll also need some long socks if you want to look smart". He agreed, somewhat reluctantly, but only if he stayed in the car while I bought them. And so I did, a pair of charcoal grey, longer length, schoolboy shorts and three pairs of grey knee-length socks. An expensive game, I thought, but worth it.! I knew he would never really wear them to school, but I thought I might convince him to wear them just once in the privacy of his own bedroom maybe even when we were out walking the dog -there were definitely possibilities. But once we got home, my guilt had taken over this was not the way I should be behaving with my young friend. I told Rory that I really didnt expect him to wear the shorts to school and that his genuine offer was proof enough of his friendship. Rory quickly relented, delighted that I was happy with him again and seemingly relieved that he didnt have to go through with his offer. He went home for dinner, the shorts and socks discarded in the back of my car. I had really enjoyed the thrill of the game and was a little deflated that it was over, but I knew that it was a fantasy that had to end, while still secretly hoping he might still be persuaded to wear them in private one day.
It therefore came as a huge shock when Rorys mother phoned later to thank me for buying the shorts and socks. Rory had apparently told her that he wanted to wear school shorts for one last time, before moving to Secondary School they would be more comfortable during the warm summer weather. Hed obviously thought hard about things over dinner, come to a decision and removed the bag from my car sometime later in the evening, intent in carrying through his act of friendship. Needless to say his Mum was delighted, as most mothers would be, that her almost teenage son didnt want to grow up too quickly. Rory had now fully committed himself there was no turning back I couldnt believe it. I didnt sleep much that night and was up at my window early, looking for Rory. I still didnt believe he would go through with it, in the cold light of a school day. Even in my day, no primary seven boy would ever have worn shorts to school.
I had agreed to take Rory to school that morning and I almost fainted at the sight walking across the road he was the cutest twelve year old schoolboy youve ever seen, white polo shirt, green school sweatshirt, long grey socks, black shoes and long grey shorts. I can still picture him, like it was this morning. Sturdy little legs, the grey shorts hanging just right, a couple of inches above his bare knees. Long grey socks, neatly turned over, just below the knees. Theres just something about the smell of bare knees and shoe polish that take me back to my days as a schoolboy and I thought my heart would surely beat out of my chest. I just couldnt take my eyes off the bare kneed twelve-year-old schoolboy sitting in the passenger seat on the way to school he was surely born to wear shorts. Rory became nervous when we arrived at the gates and was reticent to get out of the car. Then the bell went he could delay no longer - he was committed, there was no turning back now. It was too late to go home and change. His parting comment getting out the car was "oh no, bare knees". I was overcome with guilt but at the same time it really was a dream come true there he was walking across the playground, my short-trousered best friend. Incredible.
I spent the whole day alternating between the thrill of his act of bravado and huge remorse I was very concerned about how he had fared at school what had I done? Would he blame me would he still be my friend? But I neednt have been worried. Rory came back from school all smiles - he reckoned that the shorts were great a few of his class had said, "look, Rorys in shorts", but that was all. No bullying. No ridicule. And he said that he loved the feel of his bare knees under his school desk. I honestly believe that Rory enjoyed the same feeling about shorts that I do. He continued to wear shorts until the final day of Primary school, and he even asked to wear them to Secondary as well, but his Mum felt it wasnt appropriate! Ah, the fickle nature of mothers alas. But she was probably right, nevertheless.
Rorys act of bravado had a significant impact on my own courage I made contact with a practising secondary schoolteacher through the Net, who was keen to reuse "old skills". After a protracted exchange of e-mail I finally agreed to meet this teacher, at his remote home, fully dressed in my old school uniform, but with neat charcoal grey shorts and knee length socks, to feel again the "tingle of the tawse". And I was not disappointed, experiencing six blistering strokes on my upturned palms, something I had wanted for a very long time. It would be dishonest not to admit that I felt like Rory, standing there on the receiving end.
The teachers belt was his original late 70s Lochgelly "H" (Heavy) two tail, rather spongy and not as severe as earlier straps, so he suggested that I try to source an original "XH" (eXtra Heavy) on the Net, then he would ensure that I could fully appreciate six of the very best schoolboy strokes. After a short search, I found an original 60s John Dick XH on Ebay, a severe two-tailed, light-tan tawse, 138 grams of dense leather, the shiny tails witness to its busy history educating disobedient schoolboys. It was an expensive auction, but I was absolutely delighted when I won. Shortly after it arrived I visited my schoolteacher and experienced six of the very best it was worth every penny. Of course, I hid it very carefully in the bottom of a drawer in my bedroom, beneath a pile of clothes, where I was sure it wouldnt be discovered and my secret passion revealed.
Some weeks later, about a month before the school summer holidays, I came back from work one evening to find my hiding-place drawer slightly ajar I thought that some of the clothes had been moved. I knew that Rory had been round after school and Id the awful feeling that he might have been exploring. It was therefore with some trepidation that I waited for him to come round after dinner and it didnt take long for my suspicions to be confirmed.
"Whats that leather thing in your drawer?", he asked. Well I was so nonplussed at being found out, I didnt complain about his snooping. Actually, Im sure he knew exactly what it was. I had always been honest about everything with Rory and I wasnt about to start lying now, so I explained that it was a school strap, a punishment belt used to warm the fingers of naughty Scottish schoolboys, but that it was now banned, both at school and at home. Rory wanted to know more, but I was getting embarrassed, so I reckoned it was best to let him read all about corporal punishment on the Net. I showed him a very factual site, probably known to many of you, which not only gave the full history and reminiscences about the use of the tawse in Scottish schools, it also detailed the procedure for teachers to follow when delivering the belt. As later became clear, Rory remembered this all in great detail. Was this just a boys natural curiosity, or was there more to it? Then the inevitable question "Why do you keep a school strap in the drawer". I have to admit that for once I was a little economical with the truth the fear of losing my best friend was too great - so I told him it was an old drama club prop that I had discovered in the loft I had put it in the bottom of the drawer and didnt remember it was there. Although Im sure he didnt believe me, the subject was quickly dropped and I thought forgotten, the way many things are with twelve-year-old boys.
One evening two weeks later, Rory didnt appear after school. I knew that his end of term report was due out that day and wondered if everything was okay, so I popped next door to check. Rorys Mum answered she had grounded him as a punishment and had sent him to bed early, because she wasnt pleased with his report. Although his schoolwork over the last term had been good, apparently his behaviour in class had been silly at times, talking, messing around, the usual boyish naughtiness. I must say I felt somewhat responsible, especially since he was spending a lot of time with me, but at least his schoolwork was good.
I was late back from work the next evening, apprehensively wondering if Rory was still grounded, so I was delighted when he met me at my front door. Strangely he was still dressed in his full school uniform he almost always changed as soon as he got in. "Its great to see you - are you still grounded?" I asked. "No", he replied, "Mums never angry with me for long. But I really need to talk to you - can we go into the study, please?"
His strange attitude really had me worried he was nervous and seemed to be gathering himself for some momentous announcement I thought it best to let him explain things in his own time, so I followed him into the study. And there, lying on the desk was my XH Lochgelly, with my old school scarf. I was completely thrown this wasnt what I expected. Rory handed me his school report and stood, at attention, all short trousers and bare legs, at the other side of the desk. "Please read it", he asked. I sat down and read carefully through the report, a thrill of excitement running through me at what I thought was going to happen. "Im really pleased that your schoolwork is good, but Im very worried about this childish behaviour Rory. Your Mum might think that Im a bad influence on you", I said. "She might stop you coming round". "Oh no, no way, she doesnt think that. She knows youre good for me, she wants me to spend time with you. But I have been really naughty and I know Ive let you both down. I need to be properly punished, I want you to warm my fingers. I need six of the very best, please say youll do it", he blurted out What an enigma a short trousered schoolboy in front of me, asking to fulfil my wildest fantasies but this cannot be. I have to be strong. " Rory....youre my best friend....this is not right. What on earth made you think about it? I could never hurt you. Youve been grounded, thats punishment enough. Its not my place...." Rory quickly interrupted "Please, please, please, I really want this. I want to feel what you felt as a boy. Im a schoolboy I love being a schoolboy, I love wearing shorts and I want a proper schoolboy punishment. Please belt me....it will be our secret, I wont tell anyone, ever"
"Do you really want this Rory, are you really sure?" Oh no, tell me Im not really saying this. "It will hurt terribly theres no point in going through with it unless it is a proper punishment. And youd have to be careful afterwards -nobody must see youve been punished"
"Please, please" he said in a quiet, pleading voice " I know I need this I want it I will be careful, you must trust me. You must punish me". It was just too much I couldnt resist I was a rabbit caught in the headlights. It was destiny, inevitable. I had crossed the threshold.
"Stand here and put your hands out Rory one on top of the other", I said outwardly calm, but inwardly the excitement and anticipation was almost unbearable. God, was this a dream? Just as he had read, Rory puts one hand on top of the other, arms apprehensively outstretched, bare knees pressed together. A young schoolboy, prepared for a proper schoolboy punishment, committed to it. He wants it, he knows he needs it. I placed my old school scarf across his wrists Im really going to do it Im going to give a short-trousered schoolboy six of the very best.
I picked up my prized Lochgelly XH its like being in a dream. Im going to do this, and I will do it properly, I thought. No turning back now. I place the two tails on Rorys upturned palm, draw the belt back to my shoulder. "This is what happens to naughty boys Rory lets see if some warm fingers will help you behave in class. Im going to give you six of the very best". I swing the strap quickly and forcefully down onto the waiting hand.
Thhhwwwaaaaccckkk.....the first stroke of leather cuts through the schoolboys pink flesh. The familiar red tramlines quickly appear, running down the palm to the fingertips. Tears form in Rorys eyes, but still the arms stay shakily outstretched. He is clearly shocked by the pain. The sudden numbness followed by exquisite agony, as if the middle of your hand had been cut out. The slow transition to an intense stinging, fingers feeling twice their original size.
"Change hands" Rory quickly swaps hands, as if he had been belted all his life. No faltering. I look straight into those cute brown eyes.
Thhhwwwaaaccckkk....the second stroke cuts through the other palm, "aaayyeee" says Rory, rapidly withdrawing his hands and blowing furiously on scorching palms"
"Put your hands back out there are four more of those to come. Youll remember each and every one of these strokes next time you think of messing around in class". Im really getting into this now.
The hands double up again.
Thhhwwwaaaccckkk
The third stroke cuts through straight and true. Tears are now flowing freely, but Rory stoically awaits the next stroke. Im taking my time, relishing every cut. I dont want this to end too quickly.
Thhhwwwaaaccckkk
"Change hands" Again, Rory swaps his fiery palms, more slowly this time. But hes still up for it. My god, Im really doing this. Properly punishing a schoolboy. This is unbelievable.
Thhhwwwaaaccckkk
"Change hands boy. One more stroke to go". Rory swaps hands for one last time, his face twisted in agony. Once more he stands at attention, boyish knees touching, grey shorts hanging loosely from his bare legs.
Thhhwwwaaaccckkk
The sixth stroke of leather, the best of the bunch, slices through the now thoroughly punished schoolboys fingers. He drops the scarf, shaking his hands like a mad thing and then lifts the swollen palms to his face, blowing on them like a boy possessed, then clasps them between his clenched bare knees. "Im so sorry I was naughty", he sobs. "Thank you for belting me. Youre the best friend ever. I will be good at school from now on, honest". He is in floods of tears and clearly in severe discomfort.
I open the desk drawer and place the belt at the back. "Now you really know what six of the very best feels like. Ill keep the belt in this drawer and if theres any repeat of this silly behaviour, it will be back out for another six Rory. Now go and dry your eyes". Rory quietly leaves the room, still shaking his hands, just as I do when Ive been belted.
Slowly the realisation of what Ive done dawns on me. Is this the act of a friend? Am I some sort of monster? Too late, too late......
An eternity later, Rory appears, all smiles and gives me a huge big hug. "That was really, really agony." He sits on the sofa and draws his bare knees up to his chin. "I never knew anything could be so sore. I know you didnt want to do it, but I needed punishing I dont know why, but I really wanted it". There was absolutely no doubt that Rory was getting off on this. Did I unwittingly create these feelings in Rory, or were they always there, dormant, waiting for the right moment? I suppose Ill never know, but the deed is done, it cannot be undone.
That was the one and only time I punished Rory we joked occasionally about his belting, but he never asked for another. The slight bruising and tram lining disappeared in a few days and apparently went unnoticed. My XH is well hidden to this day, and yes, I still feel the business end occasionally. I guess Rorys behaviour for the last couple of weeks at school was good he certainly told me it was. I still feel a mixture of guilt and exhilaration about the belting to this day, but I know that Ill never have another opportunity. Perhaps that is a good thing.
A few months after Rory started Secondary School, his mother moved away. Im sorry to say we lost contact as Rory grew older teenage boys can probably do without adult friends nagging them all the time. I know he eventually went on to boarding school. I still miss him terribly, but fervently hope that one day well meet again. You never know, perhaps hell want another six of the best, or maybe hell want to give me six. Either would be just fine with me.