0 comments/ 11082 views/ 2 favorites A Very Special School By: JASONSHOMOEROTICA Moulton-Midmarsh Reform School Its Foundation, Rise and Demise An imaginary tale set in the early twentieth century By Jason Land ***** Chapter 1 My name is Martin Fairweather. I am professor and head of the History Department at the Fenwide University, one of those institutes of higher learning created in that push by the governments in the 1980s and 1990s, when the aim - quite mistaken in my view - was to ensure that every child in UK had a university education. How a university education benefits would-be plumbers, carpenters or, for that matter, any other trade, which we desperately need to make things in this country, escapes me; but mine, as a historian, is not to reason why, but to observe and comment on the follies of our leaders, so as you might imagine, we historians have no end of material on which to comment! Fenwide, located near the provincial town of Ely, sits in the shadow of its ancient and august neighbour, Cambridge and will probably ever remain there. But, with no false modesty, I can say that the history department, which I was recruited to create, has, under my direction, attained considerable renown in the academic world. I am, myself a product of that other nearby place. I was a working class scholarship boy from the industrial north, but I excelled at history, in which subject I took a first, as a result of which I was offered a research fellowship at St. Jude's College, which I held for some five years. I felt myself highly honoured when, aged but twenty-eight years, I was offered the job as the first professor and head of the history department at Fenwide, which I, of course, accepted and where I have been ever since. It was my position at Fenwide and the fact that my own special area of interest was in the English school system through the ages, that in late 2008, I was approached by the board of governors of a local public school, Midfen College, and asked if I would be willing to undertake the production of a short book to commemorate the centenary of the founding of the school in 1910, a task I accepted with pleasure. Midfen College was and still is, for that matter, an unusual public school for England. But before I go on, just let me explain, for the benefit of my foreign readers, that an English public school is precisely the opposite of what its name implies; a public school, is in fact, a fee paying school where wealthy parents send their offspring in search of a better education and from which members of the general public are excluded, unless they can afford to cough up the necessary fees. What are in fact public schools, schools to which the general populace are obliged, by law, to send their children, are called State Schools in the UK. Coming back to Midfen College; this is a relatively young institution, having been created by the endowment of a number of Edwardian philanthropists in 1910. As such, in the eyes of the class obsessed British upper stratum, it is not considered as the equal of the great old schools of the country, such as Eton Winchester, Rugby, or Harrow and many others. But this was precisely the institution about which I had been commissioned to write about to celebrate its 100 year existence. I started my research, which was not too difficult, as there was a great deal of detailed information available in the school archives, which had been very well kept over the past century. So, my job became one of pulling together enough detail to produce the desired centenary commemoration book. As I went through the material, I was struck by one strange fact; the school had been started in its present buildings, back in 1910, and these buildings had been purchased by the founding fathers from the Department of Education of the day. My curiosity was promptly aroused, for prior to the actual founding of the school there was nothing at all in the archives, other than the fact that the school had been installed in a building, a large building, which predated its foundation. Intrigued, I pressed my researches further into the period prior to 1910 and uncovered an interesting story, which I think you might enjoy. It is the story of the creation of the most modern of reform or approved school of its day, by a group of late Victorians and how, after a glittering start, its demise was rapid, leading to its closure less than ten years from its foundation, with the result that the building was sold and acquired to house the new Midfen public school, where it is still located, in what are now buildings a century old. Chapter 2 Up until the end of the late nineteenth century, convicted young offenders aged as low as fifteen years, had been sent to the same prisons as older criminals. There had been a growing feeling that this custom was exposing young tearaways not only to hardened criminals, who could lead them further astray from the straight and narrow, but also left them open to sexual abuse by the older inmates. One has to remember that at that time, and indeed until late in the twentieth century, male homosexuality was a criminal offence in the United Kingdom, leading to imprisonment, as the much publicised trial of Oscar Wild, the playwright, at the end of the nineteenth century, leading to his imprisonment for sodomy testifies. And so, there was a gradual move to develop individual establishments where such errant young men could be confined, and where they could be given the rudiments of an education and perhaps learn a trade, so that on their release they would better fit into the society as upright citizens. In short, there was a general "do-good spirit" about the age. In this context, under the guidance of the Education Department, several different types of school were set up, so-called approved schools, where young offenders could be confined and rehabilitated. Thus it was, right at the at the end of the nineteenth century, the year before Queen Victoria breathed her last, the Government decided to build and run the most advanced of such schools and plumped for a small town called Moulton-Midmarsh in the fens of East Anglia, as the site for its great experiment. Moulton-Midmarsh was, and for that matter, still is, a miserable sort of town, stuck in the watery wastes of the fens, which were less well drained then than they are today, for as its name so graphically describes it, was located more or less in the middle of a great watery wasteland. Its attraction to the powers that be, had clearly been the fact that in those days, where movement from place to place was by no means easy, it was, to all intents and purposes, practically isolated from the outside world; surrounded almost completely by the road-less fenlands, it was accessible by only one paved road. Even that great Victorian development, the railway system, which was rendering even the most obscure places accessible, had still not arrived at Moulton- Midmarsh (it never did to this day, by the way) and the nearest station was at Great Moulton, some five miles away. Thus, with the risk of absconding being a real problem from such correctional establishments, the school's remoteness meant that escape from Moulton-Midmarsh was minimal: there was just nowhere to go or to hide. The worthy burghers of Moulton-Midmarsh were less than delighted to learn that their town had been chosen for this great educational and rehabilitation experiment and there were vigorous protests against the scheme; no one wanted to have a large school of delinquent, semi-criminal youths sitting on their door step. But protests were in vain, for the government had acquired, from a local landowner, a large tract of land just on the edge of the town and had started to build the school, which by the time this story starts was virtually completed. No money was spared on the building and its equipment, which was destined to show the rest of the country the future way. But, to add insult to injury, having been landed with the school with no recourse available, the town Council was informed that the school on its opening would be filled with the worst type young offenders, culled from the normal prisons around the country. In short some 200 recalcitrant, delinquent youths of the worst kind, would be dumped in the school, more or less from day one. And so, one afternoon in November in the year 1900, we join the steering committee set up by the Town Council to deal with the details of the school and its staffing. It was characteristic of the Department of Education of the day, to leave the final details to someone else to deal with. The local council ran the local schools, for education was already obligatory, and should therefore, be quite capable of dealing with the staffing and other day to day matters of the school; thus ran the logic employed by the Department of Education. At the meeting at which we join the committee, the pressing question of the moment was the appointment of a headmaster, or Warden, to give him his official title, for the school was scheduled to open at the end of the of the following year and the entire staffing problems had to be settled by then. The committee had, by way of advertisements, already interviewed several potential candidates for the post of Warden, and had more or less decided, subject to this a final interview, which was just about to take place, to appoint a forty-five year old ex Naval Commander, one Reginald Douglas Pratt-Mainwaring to the post. There had been considerable discussion within the committee as to the type of person most suited to the task but all the members were agreed that a strict disciplinarian would be needed. As they saw things, the school would cater for unruly and recalcitrant youths and corporal punishment seemed be the one sure way of maintaining order. So they wanted to be sure that the person in overall charge not only believed in the maxim, "Spare the Rod and Spoil the Child", but also acted upon it. Well, they could not have opted for a better choice, for Commander Pratt-Mainwaring was the ideal man for the job; he was a ruthless martinet and strict disciplinarian, who enjoyed wielding the cane across the buttocks of wayward boys, or for that matter any boys, wayward or not, for nothing gave him greater pleasure than the sound of a lissom cane landing firmly across a set of naked buttocks: it was as music to his ears! Commander Pratt-Mainwaring was a bachelor, who had, until recently, been in charge of one of the naval training ships for young recruits from the tender age of eighteen years, where he had a reputation as being a harsh man; the cane was in regular use on the young cadets, who found themselves put across a beating horse for even the most minor of offences. Many of the officers under the Commander thought privately that he was too harsh and too ready to inflict corporal punishment on his charges, but his word was law on board the ship and the cane was in regular and vigorous use. But there was another side of the Commander's character, about which nothing was ever said aloud but which simmered there just below the surface: the Commander was, in fact, a covert homosexual. Victorian England never mentioned the word and polite society to all intents and purposes, pretended that it did not exist, but male homosexuality, which was a criminal offence and if discovered could, and often did, lead to a prison sentence for the "offenders", was as common then as it is today. It is, however a fact that the powers that be can legislate all they wish, but the sex urge, either male-female or male-male or even female-female coupling , is so strong that all the tea in China will not stop people succumbing to that most natural of all urges: to fuck. It was a generally acknowledge, but unspoken fact that all exclusively male institutions were hot- beds of homosexuality, a practice which was, and probably still is, quite common in English public schools; and the cadet training ship run by the Commander was no exception. Some one hundred young men, all with hormones surging through their bodies and with no female company to hand, had no other recourse to relieve their sexual tensions than to resort to what the Victorians variously referred to as lewd or unnatural behaviour. So anal intercourse or buggery was a common occurrence among the young recruits, who, if caught in the the act, were soundly caned and admonished "not to do it again". Of course this was all as water off a duck's back for, as pointed out above, sex is beyond legislation; so, the staff on the training ship, simply whacked the young offenders' arses as hard as they could and let matters rest at that. It never crossed their minds to bring such practices to the attention of higher authorities, Thus it was, that homosexuality, the forbidden act, was tolerated, by the very act of ignoring its existence; it went on, but did not exist officially. In fact in any all male environment made up of men aged eighteen to twenty, with no access to female company it is not surprising that male sex was rife, being the only outlet for the natural sexual desire of virile young men,. The Commander himself was no different from any other man; he wanted to fuck; he wanted to fuck arse, as hard and as often as possible as he was totally incapable of controlling his own innate libido. So once or twice a week, he would seize upon some muscular young cadet for a piffling minor offence, which was not a difficult job, for the Commander had the aptitude of finding fault and if no fault existed, of inventing one. He summoned the "offender" to his quarters, made him drop his pants, bend across a chair and proceeded to thrash his arse with one of the many canes he always kept to hand. Then, with the young unfortunate still across the chair, he would say to him that he thought he now needed a little "relaxation" after his ordeal; an ordeal it always was, for the Commander applied his cane with vigour. Telling the young man to spread his legs, he would then apply a little lubricant to his own cock and give the young lad's anus a thorough fucking. Truth to tell, many of the recipients of the Commander's "largesse" actually enjoyed having their arses reamed. The Commander then warned his "partner in crime" as it were, that it would be unwise to mention to anyone what had just taken place; even as a cadet, aged eighteen he was now considered of age and could be sent to prison for having taken part in an illicit sex act. The Commander himself realized that he was sailing dangerously close to the wind, but like many before and after him, his sex urge was so strong that there were occasions, many occasions to be frank, that with the best will in the world, he was unable to control it. In fact, it is no different today; sex is just a great driving force. But, on this one occasion, a young offender, John Makin by name, retiring from just such an ordeal, was jostled by his mates, who insisted on examining his arse to see just what it looked like after a dozen hard cuts of the cane. The worldly wise 'Alpha Male' of the group, a brash young man called Timothy White, then asked John what had happened after the caning. "What do you mean, what happened?" said John. "Oh come on," said Timothy, "Don't act so dumb. What else did he do to you? Did he offer you an arse fuck as a consolation? Did he, in fact, fuck your hole?" His fellow cadets were all ears to hear the full story, which, of course, now came out. "Well," said Timothy, "Welcome to the club." "What club are you talking about?" asked John. "What the fuck do you think, you blockhead? The "Buggered Lads' Club". Listen, John, you don't think that yours is the only hole into which the Commander has stuck his cock, do you? It's a regular occurrence; whenever he decides to beat one of us privately, it always ends up with him fucking the guy he has just thrashed; that, old son, is the way life is here. Look at the six of us, we've all had the same treatment as you; some of us several times. And, don't get me wrong, some of us, me included, quite enjoy having our holes reamed. Come on John you know that many of us do it among ourselves; what the fuck; it's the only way we can relieve our sexual urges; it's all part of life our present life." "So, what should we do about it?" asked John. "Nothing, my friend, nothing at all! Just let sleeping dogs lie." concluded Timothy. But, one day, the Commander truly overstepped his remit, when he had a young recruit flogged with a whip, an implement strictly forbidden by the navy rules. He had already buggered the lad in his quarters in several of his private beating sessions, so why he should suddenly have gone over the top and really broken the rules, was difficult to understand. But that was the end of Pratt-Mainwaring's naval career; his colleagues, who were fully conversant with the sexual mores of the training ship, thought that he had, this time, gone just one step too far. His behaviour was brought to the attention of the higher powers at the admiralty and shortly afterwards he was gently eased out of his post and told to look for another job, which was how he came to be at the interview today. It is worth noting that with the typical hypocrisy of the times, (one could say, of all times, for it is no different today), the Commander suffered no sanctions and no criminal charges were ever brought against him. And so, it was with an ostensibly clean slate, that he found himself at the final interview for the job of Warden of the new reform school in Moulton-Midmarsh. After his dismissal from the navy, the chairman of the admiralty committee which had fired the Commander gave voice to his thoughts saying he wondered what type of post he would find and what his new employer would make of him. "Caveat emptor," said one of his colleagues, adding, by way of an explanation, "Let the buyer beware; it's up to them to make sure that they know what they are getting." And with that, the navy washed its hands of Commander Pratt-Mainwaring, Please note, however, that he was not stripped of his rank of Commander and was still able to style himself as such, which, of course, he did. But now, to come back to the steering committee in Moulton-Midmarsh, the chairman began: "Commander we appreciate that you have had a great deal of experience in charge of a naval training vessel, but the post we are trying to fill today is somewhat different to that which you have just relinquished. Let me explain; the naval cadets you had in your charge, were basically willing recruits, wanting to join the navy and although it is clear that like all young men they needed discipline, they were not basically against the world as it were; not against society in general and habitual creators of disorder. Now the type of youths you will have to deal with in this new approved school is exactly that: young miscreants, who have, in one way or another, rebelled against social conventions and are often intent on creating mayhem. How do you think you will be able to deal with that?" "Mr. Chairman, you need have no worries about my ability to maintain order in any, and I repeat any, situation. I am known as a strict disciplinarian and have no qualms in dealing with a group of miscreant youths. Believe me, sir, when I say that if I am appointed the post, the school will be run like clockwork; rules will be strictly enforced and the slightest deviation from the straight and narrow will immediately give rise to severe punishment. I am, sir, a great believer in the therapeutic virtues of corporal punishment; I practised it in my previous post and would propose, if I have the honour to be appointed, to continue it here. Let me say, sir, that even the most recalcitrant and defiant of youths, quickly realizes with me, that he must tread the straight and narrow; once he has been treated to a good dose of the cane across is bare buttocks, the effect can but be described as magical!" A Very Special School "Whilst it is not my intention to mistreat the young detainees, I nevertheless believe in making them all toe the line and those who do not do so are punished immediately, and, I might add, quite severely. I do not believe in a few mild slaps across the buttocks; if youths merit a beating, which they often do, then I think that they have to feel real pain and the cane has to be applied with vigour, otherwise what is the point? So, Mr. Chairman, I can assure you that I am a stickler for discipline and the cane and the birch will reign as the prime implements of punishment during my tenure. I do not, in any way, subscribe to the views of the present day would-be reformists, who are increasingly trying to force the views on us, that it is better to adopt a gentler approach and try to rehabilitate the boys by kindness. Give them an inch and they will take a mile; I have seen it time and time again in my naval career, so my approach is to hold strictly to the rule and to punish anyone who breaks it. Can I say more than that about my philosophy?" The chairman, relieved to have found someone who sounded as though he could and would do the job, nodded his head in approval and said: "We are all of us delighted to hear that there is at least one sensible voice out there in that chaotic wilderness which has been created in the name of reform and rehabilitation, for we were all afraid of appointing someone, of the new wave, if I may express myself that way, who looks upon this new type of school as a sort of orphanage for disadvantage boys, when, in fact, they are a set of miscreants who deserve to be kept away from the public for as long as it takes to beat some sense into them." He now turned to his fellow committee members and said, "Well, gentlemen, you have all heard Commander Pratt-Mainwaring's philosophy, with which I suspect we all agree. I would remind you that the purpose of this final meeting was to assure ourselves that the new Warden would hold fast to the traditional and proven methods of discipline used for so long and, I might add, so successfully, in our public schools system. I think I can say that he has certainly put rest any fears we might have been harbouring, that he shared the modern philosophy of the soft approach to the rehabilitation of these young delinquents, who will shortly be visited upon us, So, unless anyone has any objections, I would like to propose that we offer the post of Warden of the new school to Commander Pratt-Mainwaring, which I earnestly request him to accept. And finally, let me say, that if Pratt-Mainwaring accepts our offer, I suggest that the title of the post be officially Commander, in recognition of the rank he holds." The extraordinary thing in all this was that no one on the committee ever thought of asking the Commander, why a man as young as he and in a senior naval position had left his post and was now available. As we would say in modern day parlance, the Commander had passed under the radar undetected. So, that was that; the Commander had the post and was given free rein to run the school as he saw fit. His appointment was immediate, as much organisational work remained to be done to ensure, that on the arrival of the first wave of boys, programmed to arrive less than twelve months hence, everything was in place for the institution to function efficiently. Once the contract was signed, sealed and delivered, the members of the steering committee breathed a collective sigh of relief, that they had now pushed the whole awful business of this accursed and unwanted school onto the shoulders of someone else. The whole problem of uneasiness that the arrival of the school had presented was simply swept under the carpet and no longer their concern; the state would foot the bills, but the problems would be dealt with by someone else; they had appointed a man whom they thought would be an excellent Warden, Commander Pratt-Mainwaring, and matters were now up to him. The chairman felt pleased that they had clearly appointed a martinet, which was, in his view, exactly what was needed: someone who was not afraid to thrash living daylights out of the miscreants who were about to be lodged there. But, the committee had endowed Commander Pratt-Mainwaring with more or less absolute power and as we all know, power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely. So, the steering committee, by its action had, effectively abandoned any control whatsoever of the school. I am sure, had they been questioned just that point, they would have hotly denied it, but the simple fact of the matter was that they had handed the school over to a bombastic autocrat who was moreover, a homosexual with strong sadistic tendencies. Chapter 3 The Commander was highly delighted to have been appointed to his new post. He had already divined from the previous contact with the committee, that they were relieved to have rid themselves of any responsibility for running the school, other than wielding a rubber stamp now and then; so he felt confident that he could so exactly as he wished and as a died in the wool disciplinarian, it was his intention to see that the cane and the birch were kept in regular use. Like many men, more than would like to admit it, he thoroughly enjoyed seeing boys have their arses thrashed and was not at all averse to wielding the implement of punishment himself. At the end of the day the Commander kept his sadistic streak carefully hidden, but as his charges at the cadet school had discovered, he was never slow to wield the cane on their naked backsides. And so, having been more or less cashiered from his naval post, he found himself, as he put it to himself, king of all he surveyed. Before we go any further with the story of the Commander, something has to be explained about the structure of the school. The staff was divided into two quite distinct and separate groups. There was the teaching staff, which was responsible for all lessons and the warders or housemasters, who were to handle discipline and all physical activities, gym and games included. The teaching staff was to have a day function only and as at a normal day school they would come and go each day. The warders, on the other hand were to be permanently present, for the detainees were permanently housed on the school premises, in much the same was as are the pupils at a typical public school The school building was in the form of a letter E, except that it had four rather than three cross bars. The main school, where all formal instruction took place and meals were served, occupied the long building linking these four wings together and the wings were, in fact, conceived as separate houses, in much the same way that our great public schools have houses, where the pupils actually live. Each house had its own warden/housemaster and his assistant, who each had private studies and living accommodation and lived and slept in their respective houses. In the same way that the Commander's word was law in the entire school, so each housemaster was totally responsible for the running of his house, where his word was the law. In addition to the professional staff, there was the support staff of school secretary, cleaners, cooks, launderers, and grounds-men etc. all of whom, except the cooks, were present only during the day, whilst the cooks by the very nature of their job had to live in the school. The Commander was provided with a secretary, who was in that classic mould which seems to accompany this post: Miss Cruickshank was her name and she was a typical dried up old trout with one of those faces which a smile had never crossed; her job it was to do the Warden's bidding, which she and many others like her throughout the British school system did without question. So every day after classes, the school and its charges were entirely in the hands of the Commander and his warders; everything was possible: there was absolutely no outside control at all! The Commander set about sorting through applications for the various teaching posts, which were easy to fill as it had been decided to provide married quarters for them and their families outside the school premises. The housemasters presented a different problem, as being lodged in the school buildings with the boys they had to be free of family ties. The Commander was particularly careful to select only muscular young men, who at the interview had expressed their willingness to maintain order with the use of the cane, whenever necessary. As mentioned earlier, the housemasters had no formal teaching duties, but were entirely in charge of all physical education and games, as well as maintaining discipline throughout the school day. Only these eight men and the Commander himself were to be allowed to administer corporal punishment to the boys. The Commander took great care in selecting these eight men, as he wanted to be certain that they were all men who had the same philosophy as himself about discipline; corporal punishment had to reign supreme, not only during the school day but also in the four separate houses where the boys lived and slept; the housemaster and his deputy had to be ready and willing to wield the cane at any time The Commander reviewed his choices and felt that he had done well, as all eight young men seemed as eager as he himself was to thrash errant arses. Although he did not know it for sure, he felt in his bones, that they were all, very probably like him, that is to say homosexual, or if not, certainly willing to bugger their charges. A school environment, especially an isolated one such as Moulton-Midmarsh offered, was just the sort of backwater that attracted men of that bent. Why, otherwise, would any normal, heterosexual man cut himself off from all female company and settle in such a remote place? When he had finalized his choice, the Commander felt well pleased with what he had accomplished. As ever, staff apart, there was in what was, to all intents and purposes, an all male environment, a strong, but hidden thread of homosexuality running through the place. The boys were all in late adolescence, aged eighteen to twenty-one and it is not surprising that deprived of female company, many of them, unable to control their sexual desires, relied upon their fellow inmates for for sexual relief. But, this was never spoken of, although everyone knew it existed and the Commander knew full well, that the attraction to the young housemasters was to work in just such a sexually charged, all male environment; in a word: it was a classic situation. The total absence at Moulton-Midmarsh of boys younger than eighteen will be explained later, but it is worth noting that in the earlier part of the twentieth century, the age of majority was, in fact, twenty-one; thus at the time of this account, the school was catering and treating as minors, young men whom we would today consider of age. The law might forbid what was euphemistically referred to as lewd behaviour or gross moral turpitude, but all the legislation in the world will not stop young men exercising their sex urge. So, even though male-male sexual relationships, or buggery, another unspoken word, was a criminal offence, punishable by a prison sentence lots of homosexual activity still went on and Moulton-Midmarsh school, like so many other boarding establishments, simply accepted it. The great thing was not to be caught in the act, which could have dire consequences, as the authorities, in the form of the Commander at Moulton-Midmarsh, could not be seen openly to condone buggery. Legislation was legislation but it could not ultimately stamp out that most primeval of human urges: to fuck. But it was to be well over half a century later that parliament finally came to its senses and homosexuality, an unspoken word at the time of this account, was decriminalised, when the legislators finally realised that they, like King Canute, could not command the waves. In the meantime, that useful attitude, hypocrisy, so widely spread and practised in civilised society at all levels, reigned supreme at Moulton-Midmarsh: the Commander conformed, or rather appeared to conform , to the morals of the age. (In fact it is no different today, as hypocrisy, indeed in its higher form, which one might call the "sanctimonious version" is still rife in all walks' of life) Chapter 4 Now that the basic organisation matters had been more or less settled and the staff appointments made, the Commander felt free to give his undivided attention to the question of discipline and punishment, both subjects dear to his heart. The Commander was at that time, more or less, alone at the school other than for the support staff, and a cook, as the official opening of the school was still several months away. One rainy Saturday afternoon he sat, alone as ever, at his desk and read through the pages in the catalogue of the school supplier devoted to instruments of corporal punishment. These were to be found under the imposing heading of "Disciplinary Accoutrements": he found the whole thing totally riveting. Under this heading, someone in the company had written a short introductory paragraph before going on to detail items it stocked, with which errant pupils could be beaten; it was quite illuminating and held his entire interest. Whoever had written this introductory piece was clearly of the "old school" and it was quite obvious from his tone, that he advocated frequent and severe thrashings as the only sure way to turn out a set of gentlemen. The writer concluded his introductory remarks by saying. "It is not, of course, for us, as purveyor of high quality, school punishment requisites, to comment on the desirability or not of the continued use of traditional corporal punishment in our schools, but we can affirm that our sales figures of disciplinary accoutrements show a year on year growth, which seem to indicate that the practice is alive and well." The Commander then moved on to the description of those disciplinary accoutrements in detail. He was amazed just how much space was devoted to the detailed description and methods of use of the various accoutrements the firm had to offer; he found the whole thing totally absorbing. Here is a list of the various items listed and described in detail in the catalogue. Of course, the catalogue was not aimed at school like Moulton-Midmarsh, but at the British public schools, where beating was akin to breathing: a way of life! And it was at just such a school that the Commander had enjoyed his own education, so it was not surprising that now in sole charge of this new school he modelled it on his own public school experiences, which, truth to tell, had been pretty painful. The general purpose long rattan cane: This is a four foot long, half inch thick flexible rattan cane, used for general discipline throughout the day. This cane is the choice of masters, who use it to maintain order in their classrooms. It can be applied either to the clothed or to the naked buttocks. State schools prefer to administer corporal punishment through the trousers of their pupils, whereas public schools usually administer all punishment to the naked buttocks of the miscreant. Correctly used, this cane is capable of creating real pain for the recipient. Highly recommended. Sold in bundles of 24 canes. Our unique speciality cane - the rod in pickle: We are pleased to be able to offer what we consider as the nec plus ultra of buttock canes, a specially selected cane unique to us for making the celebrated "rod in pickle" concept a painful reality. The expression "rod in pickle" has come to mean an instrument of punishment waiting to be used when the occasion arises rather than the implement itself. However, with our speciality cane, the rod in pickle has become a reality, probably the most painful of any type of cane. The slender canes for preparing this masterpiece of corporal chastisement, supplied by us in the form of a four feet long, thin cane, is imported directly and only by us from the Far East, where it grows only in limited areas. It is cut from a unique type of bamboo, which has the characteristic of being able to absorb its own weight in water. When correctly prepared, with a minimum of two weeks soaking in brine, the result is the most flexible of all canes, and the one with which the greatest pain can be inflicted on the naked buttocks of the miscreant, whilst avoiding any permanent physical damage. As such it is the most flexible and painful of all canes currently on the market. Many of our users consider it the equal of the birch. Sold dry, ready for soaking in brine, in bundles of 24 canes. Handle for the above: As the cane itself is rather thin and when correctly soaked, difficult to grip firmly, we offer a special wooden handle into which the end of the soaked rod fits and where it is held in place with a knurled thumb- screw. The user has thus a firm grip on the rod at all times, which enables him to apply it with vigour to the miscreant. Sold in packs of five handles. Special soaking tubes for the above: We offer a light metallic rust-proof cylinder and stand, specially designed to accept the full length of the above canes. Filled with a strong brine solution, it is the ideal recipient in which to soak and keep the above rods ready for use. Sold individually. Numerous testimonials as to the efficacy of the rod in pickle cane were entered below the description, of which two are reproduced below. A headmaster, a regular user, writes:- "I have nothing but praise for this most innovative approach to the rod in pickle concept. It is incomparable when applied to the naked buttocks of an errant boy; its flexibility is such that when correctly placed across the buttocks, the cane produces the longest cut I have ever seen. Pupils go in dread of it and those who have once felt it never ever wish to renew the experience. I can reduce even the most hardened and recalcitrant of boys to tears with three strokes of this cane. I have abandoned all other forms of punishment in its favour." And a second testimonial said:- "As a teacher of the 'old school' I had long maintained that the traditional birch rod was the best way to give a boy a thorough and painful thrashing. However, I realize now that I may have to revise this view, for I find that with this new rod, I can achieve practically the same results but with much less effort. The birch has always posed a problem in that it needs to be freshly made for maximum effectiveness, which constraint has now disappeared, as the rod in pickle has handsomely taken its place. This is the greatest advance in corporal punishment of the last fifty years. I can but recommend its general acceptance." Adjustable beating stool: Traditionally, boys have been made to bend across the back of a chair in order to offer their buttocks for punishment. Our adjustable, purpose-made stool ensures that boys of all heights can be correctly positioned with their buttocks tightly held in the perfect position to receive the cane. The back of this stool, with its padded top cross-rail, is easily adjustable according to the height of the boy to be punished. Thus the buttocks of the errant youth are always correctly positioned to accept the punishment. Suitable for all boys aged thirteen to twenty. Sold individually. Adjustable beating horse: This horse, like the stool above, is adjustable to ensure that the buttocks of any boy can be positioned perfectly for the application of the punishment. Its use is recommended for any severe beating or birching where the errant youth needs to be restrained as the punishment is administered. Our simple hand and ankle restraining straps ensure that once in place, the recipient is held immobile. Particularly recommended where one master alone has to administer a beating, as no additional help is required to restrain the subject completely. Sold individually. A Very Special School Special deep birch buckets: Whilst we cannot supply the birch itself, for this must be freshly prepared and used within a few days of the cutting of the twigs, we do offer a special deep galvanised bucket, some three feet in depth, which enables a full birch rod to be thoroughly soaked before use. The ordinary household pail, so commonly used for this purpose, is not truly deep enough to give a totally flexible birch rod. Users tell us that the results of total soaking produce a much more flexible implement, with which greater pain can be visited upon the miscreant's buttocks. A full twenty-four hour soaking of a freshly cut birch is recommended to produce the perfect implement: the gold standard of all corporal punishment instruments used in British public schools. From the various "accoutrements" (he just loved that word!) listed and lovingly described by whom ever had written the catalogue entries, he finally ordered the following items:- 24 Rattan canes 24 Rod in pickle canes plus two packs of five handles 7 Adjustable beating stools 3 Adjustable beating horses 6 Deep birch buckets The Commander had already decided that all punishments would be administered either by himself or by one of the eight housemasters; the teaching staff would not be allowed to use the cane in any of their class rooms, but would, when required, fill out a punishment slip which would mean a visit to the Commander's study for the unfortunate recipient. He saw no reason to disperse the task of formal beatings across the entire staff, preferring to keep the overall control in his own hands. But he realized that between classes and in their free time, as well as in the gym and on the playing field, his charges would inevitably need disciplining, so he decided that each of the four housemasters should, at all times, carry a general purpose rattan cane for the administration of on-the-spot chastisement. The Commander's official quarters consisted of a spacious office with another side room and its own bathroom. Beyond that were his private living quarters consisting of a large sitting room, a dining room, a kitchen, two spacious bedrooms and a second bathroom; all in all the Commander's quarters were, by any standard, generous. So he had decided to turn the room off his main study into a punishment room which he equipped with a couple of the adjustable stools and an adjustable beating horse. His thinking was, that as he truly enjoyed the process of roasting boys' arses, why deprive himself of the pleasure of leaving it all to someone else. He then added a rod in pickle set and a couple of the deep buckets specially conceived for the soaking of birches; he believed in maintaining all punishment options open. He had realized that the senior housemasters of the four houses would also need the ability to beat errant boys "at home" so to speak in the housemaster's study. To this end he had decided to equip each study with a complete set of the rod in pickle package and an adjustable beating stool. Armed with that potent combination plus the normal everyday rattan cane, he felt that each housemaster would be well enough equipped to polish any errant arse which merited it. He had hesitated for a moment about the birch, but had decided that this, the most iconic and fearful of all implements, he would reserve for his own study and for the formal punishment room. He had then designated one of the rooms of the school as the general punishment room and likewise equipped it in the same way as his own private room. However, after some thought, he had ordered two of the beating horses, feeling that it might occasionally be useful to beat two boys simultaneously; he felt that it added a degree of drama to the whole process of corporal chastisement, a process which, as you will all by now have appreciated, was very dear to his heart; the Commander was a totally ruthless martinet and as you have probably realized by now, was intent in moulding the housemasters into his own image! The Commander had then completed his preliminary preparations by adding a substantial quantity of general purpose and rod in pickle type canes to his order. When he had finished, he sat back and surveyed what he had ordered and decided that few schools would have the equal in disciplinary accoutrements, which he was sure and certain would find regular use. No point in spoiling the ship for a ha'porth of tar, he thought to himself, as he sat back, satisfied as he reviews his order. Chapter 5 The one thing that was missing from the Commander's chastisement artillery was, of course, the birch rod itself. As the school supply catalogue had pointed out, the birch itself could not be ordered in the normal way like the rattan cane, but needed to be made regularly on the spot and used within a short time frame, before the the thin twigs used in its makeup dried out and became too fragile. He remembered the one occasion when he himself had been birched as a schoolboy, some thirty years ago. There were broken bits of twig littering the room after his beating was over and the master who had administered the punishment had used no less than two new birch rods in the course of a fifteen stroke beating; he still shuddered when he looked back on that occasion and the excruciating pain he had suffered. The pickle rod might well be painful, but the birch was a frighteningly painful implement which struck fear into every boy's heart at the thought that he might one day be on the receiving end of it; the Commander was really looking forward to introducing it to Moulton-Midmarsh. Perhaps a word of explanation is needed about the birch rod, usually expressed in the singular whereas the "rod|" as it I known, is in fact comprised of a bundle of flexible twigs firmly tied together with twine. Soaked in water for a few hours before use, this admirable implement has long been considered as the ultimate sanction to control over-ebullient, errant youths. At first sight, with its thin twigs, on asks oneself if it truly is a painful instrument of chastisement, to which the answer has to be a resounding "Yes". With each successive stroke the pain builds up until it becomes well nigh unbearable for the recipient. But the great advantage of the birch is that due to the light nature of its structure, it does not lead to physical damage to the naked arse of the recipient; a well birched arse is something akin to an impressionist painting, as the entire buttock area is covered with small ridges, which change in colour as they mature. Overall, the birch, correctly wielded by an expert, is a truly frightening instrument of corporal punishment, which is precisely what attracted the Commander to it. The Commander then remembered reading somewhere that although called the birch, implying the use of twigs from the tree of the same name, some experts felt that a better and more durable instrument could be made using the fine straight upper twigs of the hazel, which as a suckering large shrub or small tree, was admirably suited to the cut and come again philosophy needed for the regular production of birches. But, wondered the Commander, who is going to make these switches for me and where is he going to get the raw materials? This was a question which had to be addressed and a solution found, before the school actually opened for business; a school, without the birch was unthinkable for the Commander. The Commander then had a bright idea. He had recently appointed as head grounds man a muscular young fellow by the name of Thomas Barraclough. Barraclough was about twenty-five years old and unmarried and lived in the school grounds in one of those buildings provided for the male outdoor staff, and usually called "a bothy". As head grounds man, Tom as everyone ultimately called him, had his own private bothy, as did also the head gardener, whereas the general outdoor staff had shared accommodation. It is difficult for us to day to realize just how primitive were the conditions under which these lowly paid manual workers were then expected to live, but live there they did and not unhappily. The Commander decided that he would ask Tom if he could undertake the task of making the birches for the school and to this end he went to Tom's bothy one evening - he had to go there personally as there were no telephones at that time. To his great surprise, the young man was enthusiastic about the job, which he agreed to try to do in his spare time for a very small increase in his emolument of one shilling for each birch he made. Tom told that Commander that he knew where there was a good stand of hazels on the estate and would go there during the week; as he saw it, the raw materials were there for the taking; and so, Tom Barraclough made his first attempt at making a birch. The following Friday evening, the Commander again made a sortie and went to Tom's bothy to see how the young man had got on with his new task. He was amazed at the excellent looking birch which Tom had put together from his first cutting of hazel twigs. This young guy really had got the feel of what was needed, for he had formed a three foot long implement of a dozen or so finely selected hazel twigs, which was both well balanced and had all the makings of a great birch. The Commander complimented the young man on his effort and then began a long dialogue which led him into homoerotic pastures he had never even dreamed of when he commissioned this young grounds man to make the first birch. "That is a masterly first attempt you have made of that birch, Mr. Barraclough." said the Commander: "You know it really does look like a professional job, as if you had been doing it all your life, and yet here you are an absolute novice." "Everyone calls me Tom, sir," replied Barraclough, "So why don't you just do the same, sir? I have to confess that I truly enjoyed this little job you have had me do, probably because of something you do not know. At school in the north, I had my arse beaten, naked, I might add, so many times that it got to the stage that I finally came to enjoy the pain, so much so that when I left school and was no longer subject to school discipline, I felt totally deprived of an act of which I had become fond." "My god," thought the Commander, "This young fellow is a masochist. He actually enjoys being beaten." "Anyway, sir, when I started work, I realised that I needed to find someone who would give me what I had become used to and so I started going to what, I suppose in polite society are called "houses of ill-repute" - brothels in fact, sir, - where ladies, for a fee would thrash a gentleman across the arse. So when I took this job, I found myself again someway cut off from what had become to me a necessity. So, as you can see, interested in corporal punishment myself, I have found working on this birch a tremendous pleasure as at least I was engaged in something which was near to my heart." "You should know, sir that the example you see before you, is in fact the fifth one I have made this week, trying to get what I thought was the perfect flexibility and the balance in an implement that was not too heavy to wield. And well, sir, I have been wondering all day, knowing as how you were coming here tonight to view my handy work, what my birch might feel like were it put to its intended use." "My godfathers," thought the Commander, "Is this young fellow actually asking me to give his arse a thrashing with his birch? This is getting better and better." But with a certain caution, the Commander then said, "Well, Tom, I don't know about this particular example you have just made, but I can tell you that when I was a boy at school, a long time ago, I might add, I was birched but once by my headmaster and believe me, it was not an experience that I ever felt I wanted to repeat. And I am glad to say that I finished my school days without another taste of the birch, although I felt the cane quite often across my naked buttocks." "That's just it sir, I know exactly what the cane feels like across my naked arse and I really enjoy that, but I have been wondering just how the birch might compare with that. So, I was just wondering if you might..." His voice tailed off. "You were just wondering, what Tom?" 'Well, you know sir, as you have not yet tried out the birch I have made on anyone, I was just wondering, well, you know, sir, I am sure..." "Surely, Tom, you are not asking me what I think you are, are you? Tom, are you in fact asking me to try out your birch on your arse, young man? Is that, in fact, what you are asking?" "Well, sir, now that you have put it so bluntly, I guess that I have to say yes. To be honest sir, I'm really hot to have my arse whacked with this thing I have just made. It will be a new experience for me and for you too, sir, if I may make so bold as to say so, for you will be able to judge if what I have made truly fits the bill. So, sir, as I see it, we shall both gain from the experience" "Tom, I am sure we will, so if you are absolutely sure, it will be a pleasure for me to oblige you. But you are absolutely, absolutely sure that you know what you are asking; if I birch you, you will think that your arse has been stuck in a fire. The birch is a very, very painful implement of corporal punishment, probably the most painful. So, I repeat, are you sure that that is what you want?" In fact, the Commander was just as keen to flog Tom's arse as Tom was apparently to have himself flogged. In modern parlance, the Commander would have said that this opportunity was "manna from heaven". "I'm dead certain that that is what I want sir." Said Tom as he started to unbuckle his belt and drop his trousers and underwear. The young man then bent across the table and pushed up his arse into what he clearly thought was the best position for the Commander to administer the birch. What the Commander saw before him was a flogger's dream; a beautiful pair of unblemished cheeks: an arse to be dreamt of in dreams: an arse just asking to be flogged! "Go ahead, sir, don't be shy; just whack me hard; it's exactly what I want you to do." The Commander paused for a few seconds, admiring the prospect in front of him, raised the birch and brought it down with a good blow across the middle of Tom's arse. The quality of Tom's handiwork was immediately apparent as the individual twigs of the birch rod fanned out beautifully and covered more or less the entire arse - the mark of a really well made birch rod. "Go on, sir, don't hold back; hit me as hard as you can; that's exactly what I want. I want to feel the full pain that this implement is capable of; go on sir, just do it: give it to me good and hard." So the Commander obliged and gave young Tom's arse a twelve stroke roasting with his own birch. My god, thought the Commander, I wonder that he can stand it without so much as a murmur. The twelve strokes given, the Commander, who by this time was totally hard and almost climaxing with the sheer eroticism of the occasion, put down the birch and told Tom that he thought that he had had enough for now. "That was bloody great sir; exactly what I needed; I haven't had such a good thrashing in years; it was truly exhilarating." The Commander was astounded at Tom's enthusiasm for what had just happened to him. Any other guy would, by now, have been begging him to stop, but not Tom. It was clear that here was a serious masochist: a man who truly enjoyed pain and wanted to have his arse beaten. True he had said earlier, that he had enjoyed being beaten at school and had occasionally gone to a brothel and allowed one or other of the ladies there to tend to his needs, but the Commander had never dreamed of the utter enthusiasm Tom would show for this masochistic orgy of pain; the birch took the whole business to another level, a much higher level and Tom clearly loved it. As Tom stood up, with his trousers still around his ankles, the Commander became acutely aware that he was being faced with a magnificent erect, rock-hard cock, which the beating had induced in Tom. Tom fixed looked over at the Commander, his gaze fixed on the Commander's crotch, from where the Commander's erection was clearly straining to be freed. "You know, sir, after a beating, it's sometimes very relaxing if some sort of soothing is administered to the flaming buttocks. I don't know if you have ever thought about that sir, have you?" The Commander suddenly realised what Tom was angling at; he wanted the Commander to fuck his arse, but so far had not actually put his wish into words; but by now, it was as plain as a pikestaff where the whole thing was heading. "I am not sure that I quite understand what you are getting at." said the Commander with greatest of understatement. "Oh, I think that you actually do, sir," said Tom, his eyes focused even more sharply on the Commander's crotch. "I really think that you do, sir, and I am sure, sir, that you would like to help me." Tom now turned away from the Commander, bent across the table again and spread his legs, giving the Commander unimpeded access to that all important entry point, his anus, which was now so beautifully and irresistibly presented that any hard cock would have found hard to resist. Like many young muscular men, Tom had a very tight anus, just the thing the Commander loved, for a good, tight hole, made for a great fuck. Tom then said, "There you are, sir, surely you must be able to help sooth my pain; surely you can see what I desperately need; surely you can, sir. Please, sir, give me what you can see I am asking you for." The Commander thought to himself, "My god, this is getting better and better. First he wanted me to beat him and now he is offering me his hole to fuck. Can things ever get better than this - and this on our first meeting!" So the Commander now himself completely overcome by the sheer homoeroticism of the occasion dropped his own trousers and advance on Tom with his own cock rock hard and ready to penetrate the young man's anus, when Tom suddenly said. "There is a bottle of oil in the cupboard over there sir. It might help, don't you think; I find oil so soothing." Tom had been amazingly circumlocutive about what he wanted the Commander to do to him. He had never, in fact, actually put into words that he wanted the Commander to fuck him, but by innuendo, this young man had twisted the Commander round his little finger and now had the Commander reaching for a bottle of oil with which to anoint is cock before actually penetrating the young man's hole. So the Commander applied a liberal amount of oil to his cock and proceeded to shaft young Tom. Tom's sphincter was good and tight and it took a good thrust from the Commander to give Tom his full shaft length, but once inside, he wasted no time in pumping the young stud's butt as vigorously as he could, to the accompaniment of exhortations from Tom to give it to him as hard as he could. He eventually climaxed and ejaculated, in a series of jerky spurts, a huge quantity of his sperm into the young man's rectum. Tom also climaxed and sprayed the kitchen table with a liberal quantity of his own thick, creamy seed. The Commander collapsed on Tom's back and clung to him for five or so minutes until both men had calmed down after what has been an exhilaratingly hard fuck. When both men had calmed down after what had been a vigorous session of sexual activity, the Commander withdrew his still hard cock from Tom's hole, stood up, wiped himself off and started to dress. Tom looked at him with an admiring gaze and said: "You really are a great guy, sir. You know, sir, I've been fucked by quite a number of different men over the years, but never with such vigour, leading to such a huge climax as just now. You really are the tops, sir, And, I hope that you enjoyed "soothing" me as much as I did being "soothed". You know the combination of the birching you just gave me together with that monumental fuck has left me in such a state that I think I must be in heaven. Again, sir, thank you, thank you, sir, so very, very much." A Very Special School The Commander was quite overwhelmed by the words of praise lavished upon him by his young grounds man. He reflected for a moment on the totally unexpected course of events which had just taken place. He had gone to Tom's bothy purely to see how the young man had got on in making a birch rod and had finished up thrashing the young man's arse with the very rod he had just made, which had given both of them the greatest of pleasure, for he truly adored administering the cane to the naked arse of any young fellow, just as much as Tom clearly enjoyed being thrashed. But then again, totally unforeseen, Tom had more or less led him by the nose into an act of intense anal sex, which, again, had led to a moment of extreme pleasure for both of them; it had been, for both the grounds man and the Commander, an impromptu evening of extreme pleasure. Young Tom clearly knew what he wanted in life, for at the end of the day, it was he, and he alone, who had orchestrated the whole evening. But a slight shadow of doubt flashed through the Commander's mind as he realized that what they had just done together was considered a criminal act by the law. "You do know, Tom, don't you, that what we have just done together, the sex, that is, not the birching, is a criminal offense under the laws of this country and that if our illicit liaison ever saw the light of day, we could both be tried for sodomy and sent to prison for several years. Don't think it does not happen; why, just a few brief years ago, the playwright, Oscar Wilde was found guilty of doing exactly what we have just done together, and was sent to prison for two years. So, young man, never a word to anyone about what has just happened here; it has to remain between you and me; agreed?" "Agreed, sir; I'll never mention tonight to anyone; why would I ever what to upset the apple cart, to kill the goose which lays the golden eggs?" The Commander realised from the tenure of Tom's last comments that he somehow saw the nascent relationship they had just forged, developing further and so he wondered where Tom and he could now go together. Tom clearly did not want to stop what they had just started but what should the next step be? He really liked the young man, who offered the twin attractions of a tame arse to thrash, as he clearly wanted to be punished on a regular basis, but with the added attraction that he craved a post flogging fuck. This was truly a combination made in heaven and one to be nurtured, for the Commander loved both aspects of the affair as, obviously, did Tom. There was no question of any coercion, as this was an affair between two consenting adults, but nonetheless, in the eyes of the law, an illicit affair. The Commander decided that the greatest discretion was needed. "Well, Tom, you certainly appear to have mastered the art of making birch rods; your first attempt has been a great success and I do not see that you have anything more to learn. As you know, this particular implement has a relatively short life, for its efficacy depends upon the flexibility of the twigs from which it is made, and these very quickly dry out. So, as I foresee that the birch will be in regular use once the school opens this autumn, here is what I suggest. I think you should make a fresh rod every two weeks and then on Friday night, after supper, bring it round to my study and we can, if you wish, test it out. I imagine you understand what I am proposing." "Indeed I do sir, and I think that it is a very good idea. So shall we say, sir, that my first visit with a new rod will be a week from today?" "Agreed." Said the Commander and with that he left Tom and his bothy and returned to his quarters back at the school with the birch tucked under his arm The Commander could not believe his good luck in having found in Tom, a young man, whom he liked and who was willing, indeed anxious, to be disciplined on a regular basis and have his arse fucked into the bargain; truly a unique opportunity, the likes of which he had never before encountered and one which would, in all probability, never again present itself. "So," thought the Commander, "I must make hay whilst the sun shines, for all good things have a habit of coming to an end." which of course they eventually did. Chapter 6 A week later, Tom Barraclough knocked gently on the door of the Commander's study, carrying with him his second birch rod. Entering the study, he was amazed by the sheer space that the Commander had at his disposal. The Commander showed him his newly furnished and equipped punishment room and Tom was duly impressed by the way that the place was fitted out with the latest and most modern equipment associated with the corporal punishment of boys. "This," said the Commander, picking out a slender pickle rod from it brine bath, wiping off the water and fixing it in its handle, "Is reckoned by the suppliers to be the equal if not better than the birch itself for the intensity of pain it can deliver. As you can see, the cane is very thin and flexible, made even more so by it long soaking in brine, which also imparts additional weight to the implement. I am sure I don't have to spell out to you, Tom, that the added weight adds greatly to the efficacy of the cane; this is reputed to be the greatest stinger ever. Of course, the difference between it and the birch is that being one single cane, the person administering the punishment can target individual places on the arse being punished, where the birch covers more or less the entire surface with each stroke. But, I suppose each implement has its place in the punishment stakes; it all depends what you want to achieve." Tom took the cane and flexed it, before giving making a few swift swishes through the air. "I wonder , sir, what it feels like in practice," he said, "I don't suppose you have tried it out yet as the school internees have not yet started arriving; but, you know, sir, I really do wonder how it would actually feel when it cuts into the naked cheeks of a bare arse" "You are quite right, Tom, I have not any any chance to try this particular type of cane out so far, but I can tell you that I am pretty sure that I will be able to make the lucky lads to whose arses I apply it, metaphorically, see stars." The Commander could already see where all this was leading. Tom was dying to have a taste of the cane applied to his own arse. So, this time taking the lead, as he fully knew what Tom was angling for, the Commander said. "I don't suppose that you would like me to give you a taste of this rod here and now, would you? You know it would be a bit like our first encounter in your bothy with the birch: a first for you and a first for me. It would be sort of a repeat performance, but with a different implement." "I really was beginning to think, sir that you might never ask. I am just dying, sir, for you to give me a taste of that fantastic looking cane across my arse." So Tom dropped his pants with alacrity and bent over one of the beating stools. The commander looked at him and made a slight adjustment to the height of the back to ensure that Tom's essential anatomy was correctly positioned and stood over him with the cane ready in his hand. "These people really have thought of everything, sir; even an adjustable padded back rail across the top to ensure that the poor sod's arse is in the right position to cane. Go ahead, sir, go to it; don't hold back; you know me now; I really enjoy pain, so just lay it on as hard as you can." The Commander, never ceasing to marvel at Tom's deep masochistic streak, gave him one good stroke across the middle of his arse. The cane was so flexible that it bent itself to the contours of both buttocks and produced one long, livid, wrap-round cut, which rapidly began to turn red. Urged on, as before , by Tom, the Commander went on to give him another eleven cuts, twelve in all, by which time Tom's arse was a mass of bruises. "That was absolutely great, sir, said Tom. I enjoyed that every bit as much as the birching you gave me the other week. Now, sir, are you going to "sooth" me as before?" "Oh, knock it off now, Tom; let's call a spade a spade. You wanted me to beat you, which is why you are here and now you want me to fuck your hole. So, let's drop all pretence. You want to have your arse whacked hard on a regular basis and then have your hole fucked and I am happy to do both for you. So, stay where you are, spread your legs a bit so that I can get my cock into you and away we go. Oh, and I have taken a leaf from your book, in that I have some oil here to help us on our way." And so, the Commander again fucked his young grounds-man and they both enjoyed every minute of it. When it was all over, the Commander again impressed on Tom the need to remain silent, repeating what he had already told the young man about the criminality in the eyes of the law of the sex act they had just indulged in. "But sir, we are only doing what lots of other men do together, and men I might add, in public life." "Quite true, Tom, but the fact remains that under the law we, and they too for that matter, are committing a crime, for which we could all be imprisoned. So, please, this relationship has to remain strictly private, just between you and me as we have agreed. Now, as this is a school and as I am a master and as you are, sort of, a pupil, I will now do what masters in public school traditionally do, when they have just thrashed a boy." "And what would that be, sir?" "I shall make you a cup of cocoa!" Tom Barraclough laughed. Thus began a summer of encounters between the Commander and Tom. What had been foreseen as a meeting every other Friday quickly turned into a weekly event. Neither the Commander nor Tom could get enough of each other. But the Commander refused to beat Tom other than every alternate Friday, as he thought his arse would never recover from the thrashing it received. He continued to be amazed by the masochistic attitude of the young man towards punishment, for Tom could not get enough of either birch or cane and revelled in letting the Commander ream his hole on each occasion. "Tom," said the Commander, "I know it is I who have to do the thrashing and that that is what you want, and, frankly, young man, I would not want you to give me a return bout, as I do not know now you stand the pain; but have you ever thought that you might like to give me a return bout with your own cock? Have you never had any desire to fuck me in much the same was as I do to you? Don't get me wrong, I really enjoy doing what I do, but I just thought that you might like to exercise your own cock for a change and fuck me." "Oh, no sir, I think not. It would be quite disrespectful of me, sir, to attempt to do to you, sir, what you do to me. You are an older man, sir, whom I respect enormously and you have truly given me all I want. One day, I will perhaps find a partner more of my own age with whom I feel I can explore the full gamut of a male partnership, but for the moment, sir, I prefer that we keep things as they are. I am really glad you are able to beat me, which I much enjoy and the sex we have together is great for me. But, sir, for the moment I cannot honestly, with the best will in the world, bring myself to switch roles. I do hope that you understand, sir; so, please, sir, let's just leave things as they are; there is no point in upsetting the applecart!" Tom had always been most respectful to the Commander and never addressed him other than by his title and always peppered his remarks with the word 'sir' Tom was not quite so obsequiously humble as Dickens's Uriah Heap, but he certainly knew his place in the highly structured British class system of the day. The above conversation took place just after the Commander had finished thrashing Tom's arse with a pickle rod. He reflected for a moment before continuing and then said: "Listen Tom, I know that I normally fuck with you bent over the chair, but tonight I want it to be different; I want us to be closer together as we have sex, so come to bed with me and stay the night with me here, this time." Tom did not seem to object so the Commander led him from his punishment room into his private living quarters and into one of the bedrooms. There he stripped the young man totally naked and saw for the first time what a magnificent stud Tom truly was. Tom had a very muscular physique and was well endowed with that most important piece of male equipment which resided between the legs; Tom had, in fact, a truly magnificent cock, long and thick and, totally unexpected for an Englishman at that period, his cock had been beautifully circumcised, which drew attention to his large knob, set off by an excellent rim. All in all, Tom was sexually a highly desirable young man; the Commander was literally drooling as he pulled the young man into bed with him. Well, the upshot was that the Commander could not keep his hands of Tom and spent the entire night with him exercising his own meat on Tom's arse until he could cum no more. It was, for the Commander, one of the best sexual encounters he had ever had. But, as the Commander had foreseen, all good things must eventually come to an end and the liaison with Tom was no exception; but when it came, it was suddenly and abruptly without warning. One Friday evening, Tom arrived as usual at the Commander's study, knocked and entered, but this time he was not alone; he was accompanied by a tall, well-built muscular young man, whom he introduced to the Commander as his friend, David Sykes. The Commander looked at David and said laughingly: "Don't tell me. Tom, that you have brought me another candidate who wants his arse roasting." "Oh, no sir, nothing at all like that at all; indeed, sir, quite the contrary. You see I wanted you to meet David, with whom I have become very friendly these last few weeks. David works as a farrier in Mr. Jenning's smithy on the edge of town and well, we two met a couple of months ago in the local pub and since then we have become very friendly, inseparable in fact. I am sure you know, sir, what I mean." concluded Tom, sheepishly, with a faint air of embarrassment. The Commander could already see where this conversation was leading, but said nothing and allowed Tom to continue. "Well, sir, it's like this, sir, as I was saying; Dave and I have become really very close, if you see what I mean, so much so that we are thinking of moving in together. You see, sir, to be frank, we have been lovers for the last two months and we now both want to be together on a regular basis. And, sir, since I met Dave, my masochistic urges, which are what brought you and me together, sir, have totally disappeared. You see, sir, now that Dave and I are having regular sex together, I no longer feel the need to have my arse beaten; that desire has totally vanished. And now that we are together, we are as equals, in that we both share identical sex experiences with each other. In other words, sir, it is now as you suggested, to me once some time ago, that Dave not only serves me but I do the same for him. And so, sir, both he and I feel totally fulfilled." And so it would have gone on, had the Commander, who now understood completely the situation, not cut Tom short: "Tom, I am very happy for you that you have found a partner with whom you feel you can live your life to the full. I have been very happy with our unique relationship; you being beaten and fucked and I being the beater and the fucker, to put it very crudely. Ours cannot in any way be described as having been an idyllic relationship, but one which I, like you, have enjoyed enormously these past few months. I always knew that our time together would one day come to an end and that day seems now to have arrived; arrived somewhat abruptly, but arrived, nevertheless." "Oh, sir, I am so sorry, sir, too have sprung this on you so suddenly, I really am, sir, but now that you know, I truly think that our relationship has to end and my Friday visits to your study have got to stop, I really do sir; I do hope, sir, that you understand. It's just that things have changed so much for me these last couple of months and I didn't know how to tell you what had happened. Don't worry, sir, about my making the birches; I'll still go on doing that as long as I am working here as head grounds-man. And as far as the bothy is concerned, if it's all right with you, I'll still keep the use of it and be there every day from eight until six, but next week, I am moving in with Dave in his rooms above the smithy, as we did not think it seemly that he move into the bothy with me, sir." "Tom, go no further; it's all fine; you are a young man and you seem to seem to have found your partner in life, so you must do what you think is right. Dave, I do not know you, but you look like a decent sort of chap and I hope that you and Tom will be happy together. So, there it is; go with my blessing. But just one word of warning; the life you are contemplating together, which is based on a homosexual relationship, is, as I have repeatedly told Tom, strictly against the benighted laws of this land and if you are caught together, in what the law describes as "an unnatural act", then you risk being sent to gaol. So, boys, please, please, be discrete in what you do and don't flaunt your relationship in front of other people. Remember, the saying, "discretion is the better part of valour". Just keep that thought in mind." To anyone who knew anything at all about the true character of Commander Pratt-Mainwaring, this speech was an eye-opener, for it showed that there was a softer side to him, when he wished to reveal it. It was clear that he had truly liked Tom and his extraordinary relationship with him, and now genuinely wished the two young men well. Tom was, in fact a truly decent and honest young man and the Commander had truly meant what he said about the pair of them. And so it was that the brief interlude between the Commander and his grounds man came to an abrupt end, happily with no acrimony. Chapter 7 With the opening of the school now scheduled for September, the Commander had just too much work to allow the demise of his liaison with Tom Barraclough to detract him from his labours. He arranged for all the teaching staff and the eight warders to come to the school for a pre-term orientation session. On this occasion, Commander Pratt-Mainwaring made it abundantly clear to all present that he and he alone was in charge and that his orders were to be followed with no deviation. As he pointed out to those assembled, they would collectively be responsible for the education and well being of some 200 boys aged fourteen to twenty, or so he then thought, who, to say the least, were all in some way delinquent; boys who had not conformed to the normal code of conduct in the society in which they lived, and for that reason they have been sent to this institution, in an attempt to set them on the right path in life. "I do not know if you are aware of the fact, but in its infinite wisdom, the Department of Education has decided to intern in this very school, the worst offenders who are presently distributed throughout this country in various other correctional establishments. Therefore, as our first intake this autumn, we are dealing not with the normal run of young offenders, who have been sentenced by the courts to a spell in an approved school, but what might well be described as the dregs of juvenile delinquency; that, gentlemen, is what we are going to have to contend with." "These boys, in general." he went on, "Are the worst young rebels against society; tear-aways, who have no respect for the law or for the people around them and as such must be under constant control and supervision. They have to be taught to toe the line of what is generally considered acceptable behaviour in this country. If they so much as deviate by an inch from the straight and narrow, if they break the rules in any way, then they will be severely punished. I am myself a great believer in the old maxim, "spare the rod and spoil the child" and that will be our guiding light in this establishment as long as I am in charge. So, all of you, please forget any thoughts you may have of gentle rehabilitation: this school will be run on lines of a military establishment; the cane and birch will be used, without question, on any boy who needs correction. And when I say used, I mean applied with vigour to the miscreant's naked buttocks. If a boy is to be beaten, then it must be thoroughly and it must hurt. A few light taps with a cane are totally unacceptable in the environment in which we find ourselves today." A Very Special School "As for the administration of formal corporal punishment, this will be exclusively in my hands and those of the eight warders, who serve also as housemasters. Those of you in the teaching staff who feel a boy has overstepped the bounds and is need of correction will be required to fill out a punishment citation which will be brought to me by the errant youth. Boys with slips will be either punished by me personally in my study, or will, on Friday evenings after supper, go to the general punishment room where they will be beaten either by me of by one of the senior warders." "Now, as you, the teaching staff will have no recourse to the cane yourselves, to correct the minor infractions which will inevitably arise in your classes, if you feel a boy is out of line, simply send him out of the room. I am talking here about really minor infractions, which do not merit a written citation, but which must always, and I repeat here the word "always", be met with some form of immediate sanction, otherwise order will give way to chaos. I am a great believer in the maxim: "Give a boy and inch and he will take a mile". Well in this school not a single inch will ever be ceded to a boy. The rules will be strictly obeyed and if broken, punishment will be automatic." "So, any boy sent out of the classrooms for any kind of misbehaviour whatsoever will be obliged immediately to go and stand in the corridor, outside the punishment room door. At each change of period, when there is a five minute recess, one of the warders will be visit the punishment room and the miscreants waiting there will automatically be caned. There will be no questions asked and no answers called for; the boys will automatically be caned." "There will be a simple standard procedure; each boy will drop his pants, bend across he beating stool and the warder on duty will give him six good cuts across his naked buttocks with the pickle rod. So, gentlemen, as you can see, the cane will be in use the entire day, at each change of period, four times in the morning and three times in the afternoon. And woe betide any boy who has been expelled from a class and who then fails to present himself at the punishment room, for he will be dealt with by me personally and I can tell you that six cuts will seem as the touch of a feather compared to what such deceitful boys will get from me by way of retribution." "So, gentlemen, there you have it; the cane will be at your disposition via the strong arms of the warders, throughout the teaching day. And so, gentlemen, I see no reason why you cannot maintain perfect order in your classrooms and I shall expect nothing less from each and every one of you." "Now, in addition to this formal punishment schedule, the warders, who over and above their duties as housemasters, are also responsible for physical education and sports as well as for general discipline around the school, will always each carry a cane and will be able to apply instant, on the spot correction to any boy who deserves it. Gentlemen, let us be quite clear; the cane and the birch will be in regular use in this establishment and good manners and behaviour will be inculcated into these delinquent boys in the time honoured English way: they will be thrashed. As for evenings, when classes are over and the boys are in their respective houses, then discipline there will be entirely left to the discretion of each housemaster, whose study is well equipped for the purpose. Now, are there any questions?" The Commander's authoritative manner was such that it completely discouraged any questions at all and after he had finished his speech, there was dead silence; there was a clear understanding by everyone present, that Commander Pratt-Mainwaring was in charge, firmly in charge, and that the staff had to do his bidding; the Commander was not a man to be crossed; that was very clear! This was not an establishment where discussion as to actions took place; the word consensus was not in the vocabulary of the moment; the Commander alone decided and that was that. As remarked earlier, power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely and here was an example of this maxim taking place before everyone's eyes: Commander Pratt- Mainwaring ruled as an absolute monarch! The meeting was quickly closed. What the teaching staff thought of this, we shall never know, but I imagine that many of them were disappointed that they could not wield a cane themselves, for there is always among the teaching profession a certain element which enjoys beating its pupils and indeed, well into the middle of the twentieth century, it was quite normal for a master to thrash boys in front of their peers in the classroom. As for the eight warders, well they were delighted with their authority and the looked forward to exercising it with vigour, which as we shall see later, they did, for in their own way the four senior warders, each of whom headed up a house, were as ruthless as was the Commander. Chapter 8 The arrival of the first boys was imminent, when the Commander received a surprise in the form of a letter from the Secretary for Education, which informed him that there had been a change in plan. Moulton-Midmarsh would function as a place of incarceration of last resort for senior boys from other approved schools around the country: Moulton-Midmarsh was to become the repository for senior boys whose recalcitrance made them uncontrollable in the confines of a normal reform school covering all ages from thirteen to twenty-one years. So, just a few days before the first boys arrived, the Commander learned that his new school would be a sort of senior college catering for boys aged for eighteen to twenty-one years old. The Secretary for Education had not even had the courtesy to discuss this change with the Commander or even to inform, him verbally of the changed situation: it was a done deal over which the Commander had no control and in which is view had never been solicited. Such a high handed decision sat ill with the Commander, as you might well imagine, for he was used to issuing orders himself which he expected to be obeyed without question. Now here was a case of the boot being on the other foot: he was on the receiving end of what he considered an outrageous decision and there was nothing he could do about it other than fume quietly to himself. "Boys," he thought to himself. "What I now have on my hands is a set of unruly young men. Well, I know how to deal with them, for it will be much like the lads I dealt with on the cadet ship." September soon arrived and with it, the first intake of boys. Moulton-Midmarsh was organised in the form of four houses, much like an English public school. Each house occupied one of the four wings of the new building and each house was run by a two man team of senior warder and assistant who were usually known as housemasters. Each house bore the name of one of the eastern counties, Norfolk, Suffolk, Essex and Cambridge, the idea being to inculcate into its members a sense of belonging and loyalty and, in the time honoured methods of the English public schools, as a means of fielding four competitive teams on the sports field. As the young men arrived, they were separated alphabetical into groups by age and were then assigned randomly to one of the houses, the only criterion being to give each house approximately the same age distribution. By the end of the month, the school already had its full complement of 200 inmate's boys and was settling down into its daily routine. The Commander brought his eight warders together and told them that, in order to show the boys (as he decided to call them in spite of their age), the way the school would be run and discipline enforced, it would be a good idea if at least five or six boys received a good caning in the first few days of their arrival. "I think," said the Commander, "That we need to show the whole school that we are serious about obedience. So, take the even the slightest misdemeanour as an excuse to wield the cane. There is nothing, absolutely nothing at all, in my view, like the crack of the cane across a boy's bare arse to make him come to order and as a warning to the rest. So, do not hesitate; if in doubt, just whack butt and if you can do it so that the other boys are aware of what happens when rules are disobeyed, all to the good." The warder who was housemaster of Norfolk, a muscular twenty-five year old called Marcus Selby and his assistant, of similar build, by the name of John Summers, together formed a formidable team. They rapidly came to be known and feared as S and S by the boys in their house and were very thorough in their execution of the Commander's wishes. For them it was going to be a pleasure, to thrash a good number of their charges in the first few weeks of their arrival; ''pour encourager les autres" as the French would have said. As did all the warders, both men always walked around carrying a cane and were not slow to give an odd whack to the arse of any unsuspecting youth whom they thought had overstepped the line. "Pick up that piece of paper you have just dropped, you untidy boy." followed by a couple of whacks of the cane cross his trousers. "Walk, boy, when you are in the building. This is not the playing field or a race track." Whack, whack. "Stand up straight, boy; don't slouch" Whack, whack "Don't talk so loudly, boy." Whack, whack. You can see the sort of piffling "offences" which Selby seized upon to justify administering a few short, sharp, but nonetheless painful cuts to any errant boy's seat; and it was just the same in the other three houses. The housemasters and their assistants, with the authorised rattan cane glued into their hands, until it seemed almost an integral part of their bodies, cracked down on boys for the slightest of reasons; it was instant retribution for any offence, so often imagined rather than real; no discussion; no explanation, just a few short sharp painful cuts given on the spot." But this was not the level of punishment the Commander had envisaged; what he wanted was a more dramatic scenario, with the errant youth being beaten, first subjected to verbal chastisement before eventually being thrashed. He wanted all the boys to realise that if they broke the rules, then they would suffer excruciating pain for it and this realization had to come from the fate of a few unfortunate lads who were to be made examples of. And so, the housemasters had to find upon some real offences being committed so that they could haul the offender off to their studies and give him a proper naked arse thrashing, with all the due process and ceremony. Thus, to meet the Commander's wishes, the housemasters forced themselves, to become extremely vigilant, in their attempts to find fault with their charges. Selby and his assistant housemaster took to inspecting the dormitories every evening, both before and after lights-out, gas lights that is, for we are here in an age before the general availability of electric light. In fact, modern though the school was for its day, in 1899 when the building worked was commenced, the school had no electricity at all; some would have said it was that mythical period often referred to as, "'the good old days". Today, we would think it rather primitive, but that is the way it was then. Anyway, Selby's detailed inspection of the four separate fifteen bed dormitories which his house contained proved a treasure trove for the offence seeking S and S duo. They were amazed by what they discovered and just how inventive the boys were. Selby himself quietly entered one dorm. some fifteen minutes after lights out, to find that two of the boys, Johnson and Sefton, had somehow obtained matches and were reading some book or other by candle light. They were promptly marched off, in their pyjamas, to Selby's study and subjected to a severe verbal examination before being thrashed. "From where did you get the matches? You could have started a fire and burned the place down." said Selby. Sefton, who seemed to wish to act as spokesman for the pair, said: "We had them when we arrived here, sir, and we saw no harm in lighting the candles in order to read." "Hand over immediately any matches you still have; you know the rule; lights out at 9 p.m. and no talking or other activity thereafter. You boys are there to sleep, so that you can stay awake during your classes next day. And, I am very surprised at you flagrantly breaking the rules in front of your classmates and for that I propose to beat you." "Please, sir, we promise we won't do it again. It was only once that we did what we did and we really meant no harm. It was just the first time." But, as you can well imagine these words fell on deaf ears. Selby walked across to the pickle rod container, withdrew a cane from the brine, wiped of the excess liquid, placed it in its handle, swished it through the air and said. "Now, the pair of you, do you know what this is?" "It's a cane sir, isn't it?" "Very observant of you to realize that fact; but have you any idea what kind of cane this is? Just take a closer look at it and you will see that it is thin and flexible, much thinner and much more flexible than the normal rattan cane which Mr. Summers and I carry around with us during the day. Moreover, you will have noticed that it has been soaking in water, or more precisely in brine, a solution of salt in water. And do you know why? Probably not! Well, let me explain to you young miscreants; this cane is made of a very special type of bamboo which absorbs its own weight in water from the soaking, which makes it twice as heavy as a normal cane. But that is not all, for being thin, it is also much more flexible. Do you two lucky lads know what all this adds up to? Probably not! Well let me enlighten you further. This cane, which we call a pickle rod because of its soaking in brine, can be considered the "nec plus ultra" of canes for administering corporal punishment to the behinds of errant boys like you. Do you know what "nec plus ultra" means? Probably not! Well let me enlighten you still further. It means the best or most extreme example of something. So there, boys, you have it, your backsides are going to be treated to the very best and extreme example of the cane. Quite simply, as you are now going to find out, this is just the most painful of all canes; indeed it is considered by many as the equal of the birch, of which I am sure you have both heard, or even possibly experienced in your previous tearaway careers." Of course, Selby had really no idea whether what he was telling these two boys about the painful attribute of the pickle rod were true or not, for neither he nor Summers had ever used it seriously on anyone. But, by treating the boys to a verbal tirade, telling them what it was and what it was going to do to them, he hoped that when they went back to their dormitory after the beating he was now going to administer, that they would, by relating what had happened to their house mates, inculcate a feeling of dread into them. "Johnson, you first; drop your pyjama trousers and bend across the back of this stool." Now it is a fact that for all their braggadocio, working class boys, such as Johnson and Sefton, are much shyer about exposing what they refer to as "their privates" to other people, even to their classmates. Public school boys, in general, have no inhibitions about flaunting their all before anyone and everyone, as they have, from a tender age at prep schools, been pushed in at the deep end of a rigid education system, where nothing at all remains private for long. Any public school boy having been given the order which Johnson had just received would have obeyed forthwith and bent across the chair to receive his punishment; it was all part and parcel of his world; but not so Johnson, who was aghast at the thought of having to expose himself to his housemaster and to his friend. And so he started to protest. "But sir, you are not going to make me drop my pants here, in front of you and Sefton; you are not going to cane my bare bum, are you? I don't want that!" "Johnson, you are arguing with me and I suggest that you stop right now. What you want or do not want is a matter of no concern to me; just do as I say, for if you persist, then I shall give you six extra cuts, which will bring your total up to eighteen stokes of the cane. So, boy, for the last time, drop your pants and do as I have told you; bend across the chair and present your arse to me, boy, for punishment." Johnson finally did as he was told, but with great reluctance and the housemaster noticed, as is often the case when an adolescent knows he is about to be beaten, that Johnson was sporting a rock hard erection. And it has to be said that Johnson was a well set up young stud, who would, eventually make someone very happy; the boy had nothing to be ashamed off; indeed, quite the contrary! Sefton meanwhile had said nothing at all, but was clearly frightened by what he knew was also going to happen to him. Mr. Selby noticed that Sefton too had a pronounced erection, brought on just by watching and listening to what has transpired so far. It was a very homoerotic moment for all of them, housemaster, assistant housemaster and the two boys, for both S and S were sporting their own erections, which they tried, somewhat unsuccessfully to hide. Mr. Selby, adjusted the back of the special beating stool to ensure that Johnson's arse was in the perfect position for his assault with the cane, swished it around a few times to heighten the drama of the proceedings and then began to tap Johnson's cheeks, preparatory to making his first stroke. "Sefton," he said, "Perhaps you would be good enough to count the strokes for your friend, as I would hate to give him too few or, on the other hand, too many. You will call out the number, there will be twelve cuts in all, and I will then make the stroke." "One," said Sefton. "One what?" bellowed the housemaster. Poor Sefton had not the faintest idea what he had done wrong, but he was quickly apprised of his error by his housemaster. "Sefton, where are your manners? You are totally and utterly disrespectful in the way you just addressed me and I can see that I shall have to teach you an additional lesson. You have to understand, boy, that you do not address any master in this school in the way you have just addressed me. It is not "One" it is "One, sir". Do I make myself clear? For your insolence I shall give you three extra strokes when I put you across this chair after I have finished correcting your friend here." And then Selby started to beat Johnson's arse in earnest. He was amazed just what the pickle rod did to the boy's buttocks with each stroke. The cane, due to its flexibility, wrapped itself right around the boy's cheeks and each stroke produced a long, thin livid welt, which rapidly turned red. So each of the next eleven strokes of this truly awful cane landed with a resounding crack on Johnson' arse. The housemaster measured every stroke carefully, placing each of them side by side so that both cheeks were crossed with angry red furrows. The final stroke, he placed cross-wise, to hold the preceding eleven cuts together, as it were. It was a virtuoso piece of beating with a vicious implement and poor Johnson could hardly get up from the chair after the twelfth stroke had finally landed across his arse. He had not let out any sound during this entire time and hobbled silently across to stand at the seed of his friend, Sefton, who was now on the verge of tears at the thought of what he was now about to happen to him. Johnson stood there silently; wondering what was about to happen as the housemaster was looking at him with a truly baleful expression, which somehow boded ill for the young man.