The Making of a Tyrannical Headmaster

CHAPTER 16

Rufus graduated from Oxford with high honours; a starred first no less. And, due to his extraordinary brilliance, was immediately offered a research fellowship by his college.  But an academic career was not at all what Rufus had in mind. He was so fixated by his desire to use the cane on the naked arses of schoolboys, that he knew he wanted to be a school master in a traditional English public school for boys, where he could exercise his secret obsession.

He did not have far to look as Mr. Hamilton, the Headmaster of St. Olaf’s, who was one of Rufus’s most ardent admirers, offered him the post of junior classics master and assistant housemaster of one of the four houses of the school. So Rufus Rothery returned, with no hesitation at all, to a permanent teaching post at his old school.

It is doubtful if the Headmaster, Mr. Hamilton, realised just what he had done, in appointing him to a teaching post and making him at the same time assistant housemaster of Plato House, the house to which Rufus had himself belonged as a pupil at the school.  The Headmaster had always admired the strict discipline which Rufus had displayed, first as a junior prefect and then as head-boy. And his good opinion of Rufus had been strengthened by the previous years he had spent as vacation tutor at the school, where his adherence to the rules had allowed him to keep the exuberance of the boys in check.

However, what the Headmaster in all probability did not realise was just how brutal Rufus had become in his use of the cane. Nor was he aware of Rufus’s sexual orientation, which, at that time, was strictly illegal and could lead to penal consequences. But against this was the other side to Rufus’s character: his devotion to the classics and his fervent desire to show his students that although the two languages, ancient Greek and Latin, might be dead and no longer spoken, their philosophy and literature, both of which had greatly influenced European development and ethics, were still very much alive and well.

So, on the positive side, in Rufus, the school acquired and amazingly good teacher, who quickly established himself as being one of the best teachers in the school. He had that knack, which few classics teachers have, of injecting life into what, for most boys were two boring subjects: Greek and Latin. 

But much as he was liked by the boys in his classes, he rapidly became to be feared in his role of assistant housemaster of Plato House. The housemaster, his superior, was an elderly man, who had taught history at St. Olaf’s longer than anyone could remember. Now on the verge of retirement, he was happy to leave the day-to-day running of the house to his newly arrived, young colleague, whom he had himself taught as a boy at the school only a few years previously.

As a young bachelor, Rufus was provided with a study, a sitting room, a bedroom and a bathroom.  The assistant housemaster’s study rapidly became a dreaded destination for any boy who was deemed by Rufus to be in need of what he euphemistically referred to as correction.  Rufus was quick to establish a ritual that the boys destined to have their arses whacked, were obliged to follow. To be invited to what the denizens of Plato House quickly dubbed the PPP, was soon to be considered as a fate worse than death.

The PPP, short for Pyjama Punishment Party, was appropriately so named by the boys. Rufus had decided that he would administer all formal beatings in the evening, before the boys went to bed. And so the PPP ritual was established. The younger boys, who were to have the dubious pleasure of submitting their naked bottoms to the bite of Rufus’s cane, were summoned to his study at eight, to be followed by the older boys, at nine in the evening. But whatever the witching hour, all boys were required to take their evening shower and report to Rufus’s study, wearing only their pyjamas, dressing gowns and bedroom slippers.

Thus conveniently attired for what was about to be visited on their soon-to-be-naked arses, they stood, trembling, outside the door of Rufus’s study, waiting to be called in, one-by-on, to meet their fate. And what a fate many of them had in store, for Rufus, never less than generous with his dispensation of what he saw as justice, had a very refined and carefully calibrated technique with the cane. To repeat a well know maxim, if ever the punishment was tailored to fit the crime – if most of the boys’ misdemeanours could even be called crimes –  Rufus invariably dispensed an appropriate level of punishment.

As assistant housemaster Rufus, who had rapidly been allowed by his aging superior to become de facto housemaster, was allowed, totally at his discretion, to give up to a maxim of eighteen strokes of the cane on the bare to any boy whom he deemed merited it.  As an absolute minimum, no boy ever escaped with less than six classic parallel cuts laid on across both bare buttocks. But quite frequently, Rufus then added two cross-cuts to gate the picture he had just incised into a lad’s bare arse.  This became the hallmark of Rufus’s punishments for the younger boys, among whom it rapidly became known as the gated eight.

He was meticulous in seeing that every cut was applied parallel to its predecessor so that when he had finished, the poor lad in question was left sporting an undoubted, if painful,  masterpiece of flagellative art to show his room-mates in the inevitable post-beating viewing. It is safe to say that even boys with only a minor offense to their name, never left Rufus’s study without that hallmark of a public school beating; a well-beaten arse.

But just a straight beating did not seem anything like enough for those offenders, who were regular, if reluctant, participators in Rufus’s PPP evenings.  Rufus had another treat up his sleeve, one which he reserved for older boys, particularly repeat offenders. This was what came to be known to the boys as the double six, or even, on occasions, when he felt the offence justified it, the double nine.

This excruciatingly painful punishment involved placing all strokes, more or less, one on top of the other. I say, more or less, because even Rufus, in spite of his desire to inflict the maximum pain, realised that if he truly placed every stroke in the same place, he risked inflicting serious damage on the lad’s backside.

So all strokes were delivered within a small band about two inches wide on a lad’s lower buttocks, thereby ensuring that he would not sit down comfortably for several days. Aesthetically less pleasing to the eye than the classic, well-beaten arse of neatly placed parallel strokes, the one livid, two inch wide band as a result of stroke on stroke, was decidedly more painful.

But as if this was not enough, Rufus went still further in his desire to inflict the maximum pain. For the repeat offender, that true dyed-in the-wool recidivist, for whom the dreaded, maximum, eighteen-stroke beating was reserved, Rufus added a new twist in what became to be called the triple six.  Used even by Rufus only rarely, the poor lad, who was to be subjected to this truly horrific punishment, was first given six parallel cuts, placed from top to bottom of his arse.

A pause of five minutes then ensued, during which time the unfortunate receipt of the beating was left bent across the chair, his arse, which he was forbidden by Rufus to touch, already aflame.  The next six cuts were then overlaid exactly, one on one, on the existing six stripes, and then, after another pause of five minutes, the third set of six strokes was then overlaid on the existing double stripes.

Just try to imagine the pain the poor recipient must have been suffering by the time Rufus had finished embellishing his arse with the cane; six apparent stripes, each the result of three, overlaid strokes. In barely bears thinking about. Whilst at that time, the cane was in regular use throughout the English public school system, Rufus’s obsessive use of the rod of justice went a step too far. And as we shall see, it led to his undoing at St. Olaf’s school.

CHAPTER 17

But what of that other important element in Rufus’s life: sex? On leaving Oxford, Rufus had also left behind the group of like-minded young men with whom he had had sex on a regular basis.  But now, moving back to St. Olaf’s, located near the town of Kendal in the Lake District, he had no immediate sex contacts.  But this was the other key aspect of his life which could not be neglected, as along with his dedication for thrashing boys’ naked arses, sex was his other great passion: something without which he, like most men, did not want to live.

Sex, both gay and hetero, is available pretty-well everywhere and even in superficially genteel country towns like Kendal, every form of sexual taste was catered for. Sex, is a universally available commodity and in Kendal, a public house, the Cumbria Arms, as the place was called, was a well-known watering spot for the local fraternity of – putting it politely – mens’ men!  But the Cumbria Arms, as Rufus was later to learn, in spite of its reputation as a focal point for many of the young homosexual men of the area, was, in fact,  a high quality establishment, which by maintaining high prices for its services, kept the less desirable elements of the town at bay.

So the end of his first week at St. Olaf’s, Rufus found himself standing alone at the saloon bar in the Cumbria Arms. In spite of its upmarket appearance, the Cumbria had, nevertheless, like most public houses, a public bar, where anyone, dressed as they wished, could enter.  Like many establishments dispensing beer, the bar itself was central to both the saloon and public bars. So customers in both rooms could see one another across this central serving bar.

As Rufus picked up his drink, he glanced across into the public bar, where his eye lighted upon a handsome young man, quite roughly dressed, who was standing holding a beer. There is a saying that it takes one to know one.  Well, Rufus, who was one, knew immediately that the young man was cut from the same cloth as he himself was. But what was more important was that he somehow knew that he himself and this stranger, whom he had only just seen, lf were destined for each other.  And then, as if by magic, the young man looked straight across the intervening void of the bar and smiled directly at Rufus.

Rufus returned the smile where upon the young man moved his head, almost imperceptibly – but the invitation was clearly given – and then moved away from the bar towards the street door. Rufus rapidly finished off his drink and left the place by the saloon-bar door, to find the young man with whom he was acquainted by only the merest of come-on nods, already waiting for him in the street.  Having responded to the young man’s obvious sign of encouragement, Rufus now found himself somewhat embarrassed standing there, next to a complete stranger, but one with whom he just knew, as his cock was already telling him, he wanted to have sex.

He need not have worried as the young man took took the lead saying, in a strong northern, working-class accent: “You’re new around these parts, I think, as I have not seen you in the Cumbria before tonight.   But just looking at you across the bar, I somehow guessed that you might be just like me: someone looking for a bit of action. Now, please don’t take that the wrong way. If I have made a mistake, then we can part here and now, with no harm done.”

“But my guess is that as you have responded to my nod and we are now standing together outside this pub, that I am right and that you are looking for sex. So how do you stand? Am I right? Are you or aren’t you on the prowl? And oh, by the way, my name is Thomas –Tom to everyone – Swires” And with that, Rufus’s future, putative sex-partner offered Rufus his hand saying “How do you do?”

Rufus was completely and utterly taken aback by this refreshingly and totally frank and unsolicited approach to the question of homosexual sex, an act which was totally illegal under the then law of the land and punishable by imprisonment. Talk about calling a spade a spade; this young man had just called a spade a shovel! But Tom Swires had sized-up Rufus exactly.  Just as Rufus had divined that the young man he had just seen across the bar was a man’s-man, man, so had he too been identified by Tom Swires as being tarred with the same brush.

How do homosexual young-men men recognised each other as such so immediately on first sight, and have an immediate desire, as in this case, to have sex with the each other? I suppose it’s much the same as the phenomenon known as love at first sight, which some heterosexual couples claim to have experienced. But in the case of mens’-men, it is more likely that the fatal attraction is based on what is best described as lust at first sight.

Well whatever the source of his motivation, Tom Swires had correctly sized up Rufus as a man’s-man and, moreover, a man’s-man on the prowl. But as the saying goes, it takes two to tango. The moment that Tom Swires had clapped his eyes on Rufus across the bar, he was just as ready to have sex with Rufus as Rufus was with him. That inexplicable, but instantaneous, fatal attraction had immediately worked its magic on both of them and the outcome was already pre-ordained.

Rufus looked for a moment at the outstretched hand, which he then shook, thereby making his first physical contact with his future sex partner. But on that simple handshake, the customary gesture of greeting which is performed regularly with no sexual motivation whatsoever behind it, it was as though an electric shock was running through Rufus’s body.  Rufus felt his cock, which, as ever, in its totally incontrollable way, was already telling him what it wanted, stirring between his legs as he fumbled the first words he would address to Tom Swires.

Finally after a moment’s pause, as he was shaking Tom’s hand he managed to mumble the traditional greeting:  “How do you do?”  The two of them then looked intently at one another until Rufus, by that time more composed and sure of himself, continued: “Well Tom, my name is Rufus and just allow me to say how much I admire your frank approach to what is always a delicate subject. Tom, I have to tell you that you are quite right. I did go into the Cumbria Arms this evening looking for sex, which I gather from your remarks I have found. So, where do we go from here?”

Tom Swires took Rufus’s question at face value without regard for any other interpretation that could be placed on it and said: “Well Rufus, I don’t live very far from here. So if you are agreeable why don’t we go back to my place and take it from there?”

Rufus, by now fully aware that he was in the hands of a very decisive personality, meekly allowed himself to be led to Tom’s abode, which turned out to be a small, comfortable flat located above the offices of a jobbing builder called Ellis & Son Ltd, by whom, as he was to learn, Tom was employed as a master brick-layer. 

By way of an explanation as they ascended the external staircase leading to the flat on the first floor, Tom said: “I’m actually the charge-hand over the other bricklayers and Mr. Ellis offered me this place to live in. I’m, really very lucky to have my own place, rent-free, in fact. So I don’t have the problem of my mother breathing down my neck all the time and can do exactly as I want.”

Rufus realised that in allowing himself to be seduced by Tom, which is exactly what was happening, he was, for the first time in his privileged life, having social contact with a member of the working class, which in the extremely class-ridden structure of England at that time, was something which was tantamount to being unthinkable. But unthinkable or not, that is exactly what was happening. Indeed it was obvious that now that that first social barrier had been breached, the next step, in which they would indulge in the forbidden act of sex, was inevitable.

In the England of the early twentieth century, there was a place for everyone and everyone knew his place.  Society was then as divided by class and religion, as it is today by race.  But none of the social conventions of the moment seemed of the slightest importance, as Rufus gazed lustfully upon Tom Swires.  He just knew, come what may, the two of them were destined, by force of circumstances, to fuck each other that evening. As he now took a closer look at Tom Swires, Rufus was more and more attracted by what he saw.

Tom and he were about the same age and height and both of them were extremely good looking young-men, which is possibly what had been the focus of their instant mutual attraction. But as he looked upon his soon-to-be sex partner, Rufus was already hard with the prospect of the pleasure shortly to come. So still slightly embarrassed by the situation, Rufus repeated the sentence which had brought them to Tom’s flat: “So Tom, where do we now go from here?”

Tom Swires, who quite evidently was totally at ease and relaxed in the situation in which he found himself, even though he was addressing someone whom he would term a toff, looked at Rufus as if he had a hole in the head before saying: “Look my friend, just get real. We both know why we came here so why don’t we just get on with it and see how we get on together? Come on. Rufus, we both know we want to fuck, so what’s stopping us?”

Then before Rufus could answer, Tom started stripping off his clothes and in a  few seconds was standing there, totally unembarrassed, stark naked. If ever a young man was comfortable in his skin, it was Tom Swires.  He had a beautifully ripped, bronzed body which testified to his work as a bricklayer in the open air, stripped to the waist. And very refreshingly, Tom was evidently not ashamed of his sexual orientation. His cock, now freed from the restriction of his underpants, stood proudly, fully erect at an angle of 45 degrees to his body above a pair of well proportioned balls. This was a sex cannon which would have rendered any observer wild with admiration, not to mention jealousy, as it was given to few men to possess such a  potent sexual gem.

As Rufus gazed with admiration on Tom, in all his naked, young, muscular glory, he could barely wait to rip of his own clothes and fuck the young man. Tom had not been slow in coming forward in the Cumbria Arms and now, naked as he was, his entire demeanour was just asking for sex. Rufus’s first act was to drop to his knees and take Tom’s inviting erection in his mouth.  But as he prepared to suck off the young man, he saw for the first time that his new partner had been circumcised. This was something that Rufus had never before encountered in his sexual activities, neither with Nigel Kingston, Oliver Crawford nor any of the many young men at Oxford with whom he had had sex.

Circumcision was then, as it still is today, relatively rare among English males. Beauty as we all know, is in the eyes of the beholder, and at that very moment, Tom’s cock was, for Rufus, the most beautiful piece of male man-meat he had ever seen.  Devoid of the distracting foreskin, which usually completely masks the male cock-head, Tom’s penis looked absolutely superb in all its erect glory. His cockhead, thus free of its normal encumbrance, appeared enormous and was set off from the shaft be a well defined rim.

Rufus’s oral efforts on Tom’s cock soon produced results in the form of an enormous, orgasmic ejaculation of sperm. It was evident from the vigorous way in which Tom’s spunk spurted forth in great, creamy gobbets of thick cum that he had been truly psyched up for sex before Rufus had even touched him.  Rufus stood up, wiped off the sperm which he had taken full face due to Tom’s dynamic delivery.  He stood there a moment, wondering what the next step in their relationship was to be.

He need not have worried, however, as Tom, clearly an inveterate master of ceremonies, yet again took the lead and said:  “Over there, in the bathroom, there is a bottle of baby oil on the shelf. Just make sure that you lubricate my arse and your own tool very well, before you shaft me.”

So there it was. Tom wanted Rufus to fuck him.  There had been no discussion at all, as to who would do what to whom. Tom, with that characteristic decisiveness which he had displayed from the first moment they had met, demonstrated that although he was offering his arse to Rufus to fuck, he was still, very much in charge. And as Rufus was to learn, Tom, in spite of his total command of the situation, turned out to be a dedicated bottom.

Tom led Rufus by the hand into his bedroom, where he knelt on the bed, spread his legs and waited for Rufus to complete the preliminaries to their first act of anal sex together. Rufus docilely did as he had been told. He carefully lubricated Tom’s anal entry port and his own cock liberally with the oil, before sliding his full length gently through Tom’s tight little anus and giving him the full length of his hard meat. As he sank his full length deep inside of Tom and bottomed his pelvis firmly against Tom’s buttocks, Tom let out a gentle moan of pleasure.

Rufus, although he had so far been followed Tom’s lead, now suddenly found himself in the dominant position. So, with Tom’s arse now subservient to his cock, he gave his new partner a magnificently thorough fuck.  And let us be quite clear about it. When Rufus fucked he was as thorough and vigorous as he was with the cane when he beat boys’ naked arses.  But what was so perfect for Rufus about what was happening, was that although following Tom’s instructions, at the end of the day he was, nevertheless, the prime mover in the act; he was fucking Tom and not the inverse. 

Although Tom’s decisiveness had led to the present situation, he was now totally content to play what was the subservient role in their first act of copulation together. Of course, what, at that moment, Rufus did not know, was that Tom was a dedicated bottom. He was one of those guys who wanted to be fucked but preferred not to be called upon to perform the act himself.  So quite unbeknown to the two of them, theirs was potentially a match made in heaven.  Rufus wanted to fuck rather than to be fucked, whilst Tom wanted to be fucked rather than to exercise his own meat fucking his partner. Add to that the fact that there had been that immediate mutual attraction between the two of them – that lust on first sight syndrome – what better match could there be?

As soon as Rufus began in earnest to fuck him, Tom quickly realised that he was in the metaphorical hands of a master of the art of anal sex: a man who was as professionally proficient with his cock as he himself was at laying bricks.  From the moment of that first penetration by Rufus, he sensed that he was about to experience something quite remarkable. No beginner to anal sex, Tom knew as soon as Rufus thrust his man-meat into his fundamental orifice, that he was in the hands of an expert cocks-man which presaged a remarkable ride.

But equally, as Rufus began to give Tom’s tight little anus its first taste of what was to be a definitively vigorous fuck, he sensed that this was to go beyond the bounds of a casual fuck. From the first moment of penetration as he felt Tom’s powerful anal muscles gripping his cock tightly, he knew that every stroke he delivered in this, their first act of copulation together was to be a magically sensuous moment. Fucking Tom Swires was to be hard work, but with a tremendous reward at the end, which was well worth the effort.

Rufus thrust his cock in and out of Tom’s arse, with ever increasing stroke length, force and speed.  Then, when he sensed from Tom’s panting that he had brought  him to the verge of his climax, he withdrew himself completely, waited a second and then thrust the full-length of his man-meat back into his partner, bringing them both to gigantic orgasms in which they both pumped out their semen if there was to be no tomorrow.

Rufus finally pulled his cock from Tom’s anus and flopped onto his back alongside him. Tom, whose body was glistening with sweat, too rolled over onto his back and the two of them lay there, gazing in what can but be described as in rapture at each other. Tom had never felt anything even vaguely approaching what he had just experienced from Rufus. But Rufus too, realised that in Tom he too had, quite by chance, fallen on a unique sex partner.

Experience as he was in anal sex, he had never before had  partner like Tom, whose anal muscles were so strong that they exerted a firm grip on his cock and ensured that the prime mover’s cock in the sex act was well and truly massaged throughout their entire union. Was it this fact that had led to such explosive orgasms for both young men?  But Rufus knew one thing for sure; he had never ever before fucked anyone who had even remotely given him personally such satisfaction as he had had from this first fuck with Tom. 

Tom suddenly rolled over and pressed his body against Rufus’s and kissed him firmly on the mouth before uttering the first words since the start of their union:  “Rufus, you really are the tops. You are not, by a long chalk, the first guy to have fucked me and so I know what I am talking about.  Just let me tell you that I have never before been shafted in the way you did to me just now.  Frankly, I can barely remember a time when my partner of the moment took me to such erotic heights of sheer pleasure with his dick as you did just now and brought me all the way to the very best orgasm I can ever remember. I only hope that it was as good for you.”

“Rufus, I felt when I saw you across the bar just a little while ago in the Cumbria Arms, that you were someone special and what you just did to, but also, for me, was quite exceptional. There is a saying that the proof of the pudding is in the eating, Well, all I can say, is that I have eaten my first helping and would like some more.  So, my friend, if you feel up to it (not said as such, but nevertheless, always a challenging phrase when it comes to sex), my anus is again at your disposal. So please, please Rufus, fuck me again right now.”

Rufus had of course enjoyed fucking Tom just as much as Tom had enjoyed being fucked. So without saying a single word, Rufus pulled himself up from the bed, knelt down again in front of Rufus, who was still on his back, pulled his legs apart and raised them over his shoulder. Then with one smooth movement, he shafted his partner for the second time that evening and proceeded to fuck him in the mission position.

The synergy of desire between the two of them was such that Rufus quickly brought Tom to his second climax. This time, Rufus then collapsed onto his partner and the two of them just clung to each other, cemented together by a large quantity of Tom’s semen, which he had sprayed all over his well muscled abdomen. After a brief pause, the two of them lay again, side by side, with Tom now looking adoringly at his new partner.

CHAPTER 18

Tom now reached out and took Rufus’s cock, which was still standing to attention, in his left hand, gave it a few gentle strokes as if to thank it for the extreme pleasure which it had just given him. Then by way of showing Rufus that he was not totally supine in their newly forged relationship, he leaned across Rufus, took his cock in his mouth and then in a delicate act of true fellatio, brought Rufus to his third orgasm of the evening. As Rufus ejaculated his third load of sperm, Tom took the entire emission in his mouth and swallowed it. So he had now taken Rufus’s sperm twice up his arse and once orally, all within the space of half an hour.

Rufus was amazed by Tom’s actions. Tom had not suggested that he give Rufus a return bout of anal sex by shafting him with his cock. But somehow, in sucking Rufus off, Tom had managed to indicate that he was satisfied with what had just passed between them. Tom, although sexually very active, was a confirmed bottom and somehow, by this act of oral sex, he had imparted that fact to Rufus.  Quite frankly, given the fact that Rufus, with his dominating streak, infinitely preferred to fuck rather to be fucked, all signs augured well for the continuation and development of a long-term relationship.

But other than the fact that the two of them had had that incredible moment of recognition of mutual lust which had led to the position in which they were at present, Tom knew nothing about Rufus, other than that from the way he spoke and dressed he was definitely upper class. And all that Rufus knew about Tom was that he was a bricklayer who lived above the offices of the jobbing builder for whom he worked. So to all intents and purposes, what could have been a classic one night stand could have ended there. Rufus could have gone off, leaving Tom knowing only his Christian name, left him lying there in his bed and never seen him again.

But that attraction, which had drawn them together in the Cumbria Arms, was stronger than that. Although not as yet put into words, both Tom and Rufus knew that what had just happened between them was potentially the beginning of a durable relationship. The sex act between them had generated in both of them that rare feeling of satisfying complicity, which is not normally associated with a one night stand.  So lying together as they now were, wallowing in their joint semen, it was again Tom, wanting what was a chance meeting to turn into something more permanent, who took the lead.

“So Rufus, that was one hell of a good fuck you just gave me and I don’t even know your name or anything at all about you except that you are a toff.”

For non English readers of this story, England at the time this story is set was, and to some extent still is, a society riven apart by class. The word ‘toff’ is a British English slang word, a derogatory stereotype of someone with an aristocratic background or belonging to the landed gentry, particularly someone who exudes an air of superiority. 

But for Tom at that moment, Rufus was just someone who spoke in a better way than he himself did and who was better dressed. It was the brick-layer Tom, who had had no compunction at all in soliciting a man, at first sight, obviously of the upper classes, to whom he had been immediately attracted sexually. In such cases it is usually the toff who goes trawling for a quick one-time fuck with any young stud who is willing.  But here it was Tom who had taken the lead and in so doing, had turned what usually happened onto its head.

But both Tom and Rufus were, nevertheless, aware that they were from completely different backgrounds and that there was an enormous, hitherto unspoken, divide which separated them socially. However, naked in bed together as they had been, that divide had totally vanished and they behaved exactly as what they were: two, healthy young, studs who, mutually attracted, wanted to have sex with each other and had given way to their natural instincts, which are totally unrelated to class. There was no element of prostitution on the part of working-class Tom, as is frequently the case when young men men sell their sex for money.

But as they lay there naked, Tom had already articulated his inbuilt fears in observing that Rufus, his partner, who had just given him the fuck of his life was: a toff.

“Well,” said Rufus, “My name is Rufus Rothery and I am a school-teacher by trade.”  He had chosen the word, trade, rather than the more usual word, profession, in an attempt to create a level playing field between the two of them. He had not been insensitive to the latent fears expressed by Tom in describing him as a toff. He knew as well as Tom did that they were from totally different social classes. But he was so drawn sexually towards Tom, clearly a highly intelligent, if uneducated young man, that he had no intention, come what may, of letting this marvellous young sex-partner slip though his fingers.

“So, you a master at the grammar school in town then?” asked Tom.

“No Tom. In fact I am the junior classics master, teaching Latin and Greek at St. Olaf’s just on the edge of town. And additionally, I am also junior housemaster in one of the houses of the school.”

“Oh, so you’re at that posh boarding school where, rumour has it, they whack boys how misbehave on their naked arses with a cane.”

“Tom, let me assure you that what you had just said is more than a rumour: it’s a fact. St. Olaf’s takes obedience of its boys very seriously and any boy who steps out of line will find himself, with a very sore arse, very quickly. And yes it is quite true; the cane is always applied to a boy’s bare arse.  In fact, it is the standard usual practice in most public schools for boys in this country. It’s called beating on the bare and is something all public schoolboys, sooner or later, usually the former, have to come to terms with,”

“That must hurt the lads like bloody hell. I mean it sort of seems inhumane to whack a lad on his bare arse.”

“Tom, just let me assure you, there’s nothing at all inhumane about it. and I speak from personal experience. I went through the St. Olaf’s mill myself as a boy. In fact, apart from my years at university, I have spent my entire life since I was eight years old at St. Olaf’s, first as a pupil and now as a teacher. So I can tell you from my own personal experience, having had my own bare arse beaten by various prefects, my housemaster and occasionally by the Headmaster, that beating a boy on his naked arse with a cane, to teach him a lesson, has no long term bad effects.”

“And as you can see, I am alive and well and none the worse for having had my arse whacked times without number when I was a boy at the school.  You see Tom, just as a man’s arse lends itself admirably to sex, it is also a very convenient place to apply the cane. You can really lay on the cane, in the knowledge that a lad’s buttocks, which have no vital organs in them, can take any amount of of punishment. Sure, there is some bruising, as you cannot beat a boy’s arse without leaving some marks. But they soon disappear and the lad is none the worse for the experience. In fact, he usually has learned an important lesson, for a boy’s naked bum is as important as his eyes and ears in the learning process, when the teacher is a well applied rattan cane.”

“You know, Rufus, the way you tell it makes it all sound so normal as if it’s just accepted a the way things are at such places. I can tell you, though, that it all sounds pretty horrific to me. I did not even go to a grammar school. But at the state school I went to, all the masters used the cane, which I got on my hands several times. And I can tell you that I did not like it. No not at all; not one tiny bit; it hurt like bloody hell.”

“Tom you are a highly perceptive guy and what you say about beating being part and parcel of the life at St. Olaf’s is quite true. But just let me tell you, that beating a boy on his bare arse with a flexible rattan cane, although a very painful experience for the recipient, poses much less risk of physical damage than whacking him across the palm of his hand with a rigid bamboo cane. A rigid cane can do much more damage, as it is hitting across the bony structure of a lad’s hand.  It’s quite true that a bare arse beating is painful; but that’ as it is meant to be; pain is the name of the game when it comes to correcting a boy. And bare arse beatings have been part of the grand tradition of the English public school system for many, many years, and long may the practice endure.”

“So, Rufus, from what you have just said, I take it that you are in favour of the use of the cane. So do you yourself use the cane as a teacher at St. Olaf’s.”

“Indeed I do, Tom.  As assistant housemaster, I consider it my duty to discipline the boys in my care whenever they merit it, which I can tell you is quite often. So, in my house, the cane is in regular use, applied by me, with neither fear nor favour to all comers. The boys know what happens if they misbehave so on their own heads be it. They know that any misdemeanour will lead to what I like to think of as a dose of tender-loving-care from the cane, administered by me to their naked arses.  And not wanting to boast to you, but I can say with no false modesty and considerable pride, that when I beat a boy he really knows he has been beaten. But you know, Tom, many of them come back for more. Some boys simply cannot keep themselves out of trouble.”

“My God, Rufus, he way you tell it, you really do sound bloodthirsty. Do you actually enjoy beating lads across their bare arses? And don’t you get tempted, especially with the older boys, to go beyond beating them and doing what you have just done to me. Come on, Rufus, tell all. Come on. I really want to know. After all, you are just like me: a pervert, a bugger, a sodomite and all the other nasty things they call us. So when you have beaten an older boy, a young man I suppose by the time they are in the top class at your school, and you have him, arse naked, over a chair or however you do it, do you never give way to the temptation, which must exist given the way you are, and fuck him?”

“Tom, there is a saying that curiosity killed the cat, with which you do not seem to be familiar. However seeing the position in which we find ourselves at present together, more or less drowning in our own cum, I will give you an answer in two words: strictly not!  As you perceptively observe, I am from time to time, although not that often, faced with beating a senior boy, who, as you also correctly observe, is more or less a young man.”

“But I absolutely never, ever have any sexual relationship with any of the lads I beat.  Now, I admit that, given by own sexuality, it is sometimes very difficult to resist with some of the senior boys. But I just never, ever give way to temptation.  My sex life, until tonight, when I met you, has been non-existent since I joined St. Olaf’s as a teacher. Now it is a fact that in many public schools, which, in case you did not know it, are often seen as a safe haven from the law for people like me, long-term sexual relationships do exist between like minded masters.”

“So, Tom, to lay this subject to rest, yes, I admit that I do actually enjoy thrashing boys on their naked arses. But strictly no; I do not ever fuck any of them. And to foresee your next question; no at the present time, I do not have any sexual relationship with any of my present colleagues. Look Tom, I have just a couple of months ago, joined St. Olaf’s as a permanent teacher. To be quite honest with you, as you are really a very plain speaker, I have not had sex with anyone until tonight with you, since I left Oxford.  All my Oxford sex partners – and I kid you not, I had lots – I have not seen since I left there at the beginning of the summer; they are to all intents and purposes, part of my past.”

“So this evening, straining at the sex leash and having divined that the Cumbria Arms was the best male-male pick-up pace in town, I went there and that is how we came to meet. And I can tell you with absolute honesty, Tom, that I have had a great time with you. Having been celibate for several months, I was truly desperate to fuck another man. And Tom, you really are a great fuck, by the way – in fact, the greatest. OK, so I jerked myself off in the meantime, to relieve my sexual tension, but as you must know yourself, masturbation is no substitute for a proper fuck. But what we two had together this evening, I found quite phenomenal. So Tom, if you feel the same way about me as I do about you after what is, after all, only our first meeting, I, for my part, see no reason why we should not continue our liaison.”

All the above dialogue between Rufus and Tom was said with the two protagonists lying facing each other on Tom’s bed.  From the look on Tom’s face, Rufus saw that his new partner welcomed this overture.  But he, nevertheless, went on to voice his own concerns for the future.

“Rufus, there is something which I have to tell you before we go any further. Like you, I am totally dedicated in my sex life to the art of what I suppose we might call anal fucking.  But as you have just seen even though it was I who initiated our meeting and brought us together in my bed, other than sucking you off, I have played only the submissive part in our relationship. It is you who have fucked me and not the inverse.  So you may probably be asking yourself why, after being fucked twice by you, I have not offered to do the same for you; to give you the pleasure of feeling my cock up your own arse.”

“Well, Rufus, I have a confession to make. You see, this evening you have, by chance, been fucking a guy who wants to only be fucked and not himself to fuck his partner. I am what is usually known as a dedicated bottom, which is to say, that I am totally satisfied by having my own hole reamed out by another guy, without the need for me to do the same for him.  I am telling you all this now, as you are clearly proposing that we start a regular relationship based on one brief encounter. But given my own sexual preferences, you must see that I might not be able to satisfy your needs.”

“Now usually, that does not bother me too much. You see, Rufus, I have no regular long-term partner and my sex life consists of an irregular series of one night stands. I pick someone up for the evening, as I did with you tonight. We come back here and he fucks me once or twice and then moves on and that is that. But, if I am in a regular relationship, like that which you suggest, then things change. You have to be aware what you are letting yourself in for.”

“Rufus, I loved being fucked by you just now. You are absolutely the best and you took me to heights which I had never even dreamed existed.  What you did to me was give me the best sex I have ever experienced and I loved every minute of it. But the question is, now that you know how I am, can you yourself be satisfied with a relationship in which you do all the work; you fuck me, but I never fuck you. As I say, I have no regular partner – never have had – but given my own peculiarities, I wonder if I can match up to your needs.”

Listing to this – let us call it – confession, Rufus’s heart took a secret leap for joy. Here was a young man, with whom it would be foolish to pretend there was not a definite synergy, who was a wonderful fuck and who had just said that he did not want to fuck his partner back. Given Rufus’s streak for domination in all things, including being the dominant partner in any sexual relationship, Tom’s foible was like a gift from heaven.  Rufus was more than willing to fuck a dedicated bottom as he derived his own sexual satisfaction in experiencing the orgasms which he expertly generated in himself and is partner.

So Rufus, who was as dedicated a sodomite as was Tom, could not have found a potentially better partner had he been trying. Here was a young man, whom Rufus liked tremendously. As Rufus saw it, theirs was not to be a relationship where they would live together, but rather one of a long term sexual liaison, where each of them enjoyed what the other had to offer. And even though one of them played the active role permanently, they would be very much equal partners.

Tom, of course, was totally unaware of Rufus’s own proclivities in sexual matters.  Rufus had said nothing at all as Tom had poured out his thoughts and misgivings. But he then looked at the clock and said: “Tom, it’s getting late and I need to get back to the school. I see you have arranged yourself a large shower. So why don’t we get a shower together and clean off the results of our joint efforts. Then I can get dressed and get on my way as it’s a long walk back to the school.”

If Tom was disappointed not to have had a reaction to the doubts he had voice, he did not show it. The two young men disentwined themselves from each other and moved into the shower. Whether by design or accident, Tom, a builder by trade, had installed himself a large shower, in which the two of them stood together comfortably under an abundant flow of hot water – a great rarity at the time the action of this story is taking place.

Tom had, of course, no idea of what was about to happen to him. But Rufus, whose cock was already hardening at the thought of what he was about to do to his partner, suddenly, without any warning, swung Tom around thrust his hard fuck-stick deep into Tom’s anus.

Then with his customary vigour, he brought the young man to his third orgasm of the evening.  Tom pumped out yet other enormous emission of his semen, which was washed away under the flow of the water. Rufus, meanwhile, shot his own load deep inside of Tom, thereby cementing their nascent relationship in a very significant way.

“Well Tom, does that answer your question?  Tom, you are a great fuck, the greatest I think I have ever experienced.  Our chance meeting tonight in the Cumbria, must have been pre-ordained by God. And if you think, for one single moment, Tom, that your being a bottom is going to stop me attempting to develop a long term relationship with you, you are sadly mistaken. One sign of resistance from you, my friend, and I’ll treat that lovely arse of yours to a dose of the cane. And make no mistake, Tom, I am as good with the cane as I am with my cock when it comes to dealing with a guy’s are. It’s just that if push ever comes to shove, and you want to try it out, you will find the bite of the cane a much less agreeable experience to taking my cock up your arse.”

And that is how the chance meeting of Rufus Rothery, an upper-class public school master, and Thomas Swires, a working-class bricklayer, was to turn into an enduring sexual relationship.

CHAPTER 19

That autumn term, Rufus consolidated his sexual acquaintance with Tom Swires anus, and the two men saw each other in Tom’s flat at least three times a week.  The two of them proved to be extremely compatible and by Christmas they were more or less inseparable and in a mutually satisfying monogamous, sexual relationship. Tom was more than satisfied with Rufus as a sex partner and, since their first encounter, had stopped having sex with any of his hitherto partners.

Rufus’s life at St. Olaf’s as assistant housemaster, gave him that other thing which was fast becoming a true necessity of his life: a regular stream of naked arses to beat.

Tom became ever more curious about Rufus’s use of the cane at school.  Never having had the experience of having his own arse thrashed during his own schooldays, he incessantly questioned Rufus as they lay there in bed in post-coitum bliss, as to exactly how he applied the dreaded rod and how the boys reacted.  As time passed, Tom’s curiosity became a morbid obsession. It was as if he felt that he had, somehow, missed out of one of the key elements in his education; that because of his lower social status, he had been denied the advantages enjoyed by upper-class boys whose parents could afford to send them to a public school where their bare arses would be beaten on a regular basis.

In his mind, Tom imagined the boys at St. Olaf’s were jostling each other for what he obviously saw was the privilege of having their backsides beaten by Rufus. In short, he became utterly jealous of what he thought of as a perk of an upper-class life that he himself had never enjoyed.  He had no conception of the fact that things were quite different to what he imagined; that the very boys whom he envied, took little pleasure in presenting their bare arses to the rigours of the cane and, indeed, did everything possible to avoid it.

But after several months, as his sexual relationship with Rufus became ever more intense, he reached the breaking point, at which moment he wanted nothing more than to experience the bite of the cane for himself.  He felt, quite mistakenly, that Rufus was short-changing him. Why should the boys in Rufus’s care have the privilege of being beaten by him whist he was forced, metaphorically, to look on in envy? And it was Tom’s conception that a beating was a privilege rather than a painful punishment, which led to the most surprising development in their relationship, moving it to a whole new level of intensity and, I suppose, perversion.

“Rufus, please would you do something for me?  I want you to bring a cane down here and to give my backside a beating, just as you to the lads up at the school.  I really want to experience what I think I have missed out on in my education and I think that if you were to beat me it would work wonders for my self esteem. You see, Rufus, you and I are from two completely different classes in society and although we have sex together regularly, somehow, I always feel inferior to you because of your superior education and position in life. So, if you could treat me like one of your pupils it would do me a world of good.  After all why cannot I enjoy the privilege of being beaten by a public school master with whom I am having sex at least three times a week?”

Rufus was taken aback by this extraordinary request. “Tom, you don’t know what you are asking me to do to you; you really you don’t. Don’t think that the boys at the school are clamouring to drop their pants and begging me to embellish their naked arses with the cane, because they are most certainly not: Indeed quite the contrary, as usually a boy about to be beaten tries his best to talk his way out of what he knows will be a very painful experience. Believe me, Tom, when I say that when well applied to a lad’s bare arse, the cane really hurts a lot. Take it from me, speaking from my own personal experience coming up through the school as a boy myself, a well-beaten arse is a bloody painful thing and should be avoided like the plague.”

“Yes, yes, Rufus, I know all that. We’ve talked about it so many times and I know it will be bloody painful. But I just want to have the experience of being beaten myself: to know, for myself what it feels like. You say that it is character building for the boys, so why not also for me? So please Rufus, bring down a cane with you the next time you come here and give me one of your naked arse thrashings. I know that you are a hard caner for you have told me many times that you never ever go soft on the lads. But that is exactly what I want. So please, please, Rufus, bring your cane down here and give my naked arse a really good beating.  I want to experience personally the pain that your give your pupils as I feel now that I am missing out on important aspect of life.”

The two of them argued the toss over the merits of what Tom wanted Rufus to do to him. Rufus finally capitulated and agreed that the next time he came to see Tom he would bring a cane and beat his partner’s arse. Later that same evening after he had left Tom with his customary well-fucked arse, he reflected on what he had agreed to do. And it was only then, that it suddenly hit him that this would be the first time that he had beaten a grown man and, moreover, one who wanted to be beaten and feel the bite of the cane across his arse. 

Rufus, who, as we all know, was a devoted user of the cane, suddenly saw that he was being presented with a unique opportunity. Now that he had agreed to Tom’s’ request, he knew that once he got started, he would first beat Tom’s arse until he begged him to stop. And then, he would have the pleasure of fucking that naked, well-beaten-arse he had just created. He was often tempted by the muscular buttocks of a sixth former he had just beaten, to go on and shaft the lad. But he never ever allowed himself to succumb such temptation.  But here, things were totally different; here Tom was handing him his arse on a plate; first to beat and then to fuck. 

Just thinking about the ramifications of the possibilities that fulfilling Tom’s desire to acquaint his arse with the cane had already caused Rufus’s cock to stiffen. So although he had just returned from Tom’s, where he had just fucked him no less than three times that evening,  the call of his cock was just so urgent, that he could not resist jerking himself off before he finally went to bed.

And once in bed, he could not get to sleep, so full was his head with the possibilities which Tom’s request had opened up. True, they had only discussed the beating. But post the act of flagellation, sex was an inevitable sequel. But why just post flagellation?  Why not a beating between two bouts of copulation? And why only one beating? Why not two beatings split the between bouts of anal penetration?

It was whilst he was musing over the possibilities which Tom’s willing arse was offering him that Rufus suddenly understood Tom’s motivation leading to his strange request. Yes, that was it: Tom had a strong masochistic streak in his makeup, much as Rufus had a sadistic streak in his.  Tom wanted to be totally dominated by his partner in all matters sexual. He wanted – indeed he needed – regular sex, but only as the submissive partner.  And now he wanted that domination to be taken to the limit. He wanted to be beaten and fucked by his partner whom he saw as his master.

It was in realising this that Rufus suddenly saw that in Tom he had found the ideal partner. Tom wanted to submit himself to a master and Rufus was more than willing to play that dominant role. Tom had already submitted himself completely to Rufus in the sex act and now, by adding the act of flagellation to that, his submission would be complete. One has to ask oneself, given what one knows about the motivation of both young men, whether any of the finer feelings of love and emotion ever entered into their relationship, or was it based purely on fulfilling their complementary physical needs for sex.

So although Rufus had initially firmly resisted the request to beat Tom’s arse, the more he thought about it, the more he came to see that by the introduction of the cane into their relationship they would each fulfil the others wildest aspirations.  Rufus’s desire to fuck and Tom’s to be fucked was already a rare match. Add to this Rufus’s sadism with the cane combined with Tom’s inherent masochistic desire to be caned, made for a match ordained in heaven. 

Rufus suddenly saw that Tom, himself completely unaware of the fact, was the answer to his own unfulfilled urge to fuck some muscular pair of schoolboy buttocks he had just beaten with his cane. Tom’s arse would be a willing participant in the realisation of what until now had seemed an unachievable objective. So having resolved things in his own mind to his own total satisfaction, Rufus finally managed to fall asleep.

CHAPTER 20

What had become the game-changing meeting between Rufus and Tom had taken place on a Friday evening and Rufus’s next visit to Tom’s place had been agreed on for the following Tuesday. But now that he had mentally overcome his initial reluctance to Tom’s suggestion, he had become so psyched up with the thought of what he was visit on Tom’s arse the following week that he felt the desperate, almost immediate need, to exercise his caning arm on some boy or other.  Just thinking about beating some sixth former’s naked arse had already made his cock start to arouse itself. And Rufus knew from long experience that the desires emanating from his man-meat would have to be satisfied long before the coming Tuesday evening.

The cream on the cake would be Tom’s coming baptism with the cane, but in the meantime, he knew he had to obey the dictates of his cock and find another arse – or better – several other arses, preferably those of sixth formers, to beat. The regular use of the cane had now become almost like a habit-forming drug to Rufus Rothery. He just had to answer that private, inner call, which forced him to beat arse on a regular basis. And as housemaster in all but name, he could indulge himself in this – for him – pleasurable pastime as and whenever he wished.

So that evening around nine, in desperate need of that metaphorical shot in the arm to calm his raging desire which beating a boy would give him, he went on what was a surprise round of dormitory inspections. Ostensibly it was to  see that everything was quiet, but Rufus was in fact on a fishing trip to see whether he could catch any lads up to the sort of nefarious activities into which they so easily fall when they are in what might best be called as the cat’s away–mice playing mode. Usually the nightly dormitory checks were made by the house-captain and the house-prefects to ensure that the lights were turned off at the appointed hour. So to have their housemaster on the prowl well after lights out was something no one anticipated.

After lights-pout and the usual prefects’ checks, the dormitories were normally left unsupervised until the following morning. But tonight was different. Rufus was on the prowl, at what was for the boys a late hour, with a view to detecting even the slightest misdemeanour. He was quickly rewarded in his labours, for as he passed by one of the two second form dormitories he saw light emanating from under the door.

As was often the case, boys, thinking that the customary inspection  was over for the evening and as ever ready for mischief,  felt fairly safe breaking the rules; and that is exactly what was now happening. Rufus suddenly flung open the door to find six of the ten occupants of the dorm engaged in some form of card game. Four of them were obviously playing, whilst the other two were looking on.  But not only were they playing cards, itself a strictly forbidden pastime, but they were compounding their crime by committing the ultimate deadly sin: they were gambling!  A few copper coins were lying around on the bed and it was clear that, in their own minor way, the lads were playing whatever game it was for, albeit small sums, of hard cash.

The six lads involved were horrified to see to see that they had been caught red-handed. The whole dorm knew that just having the lights on at nine was enough to justify a beating. But now they had been caught red handed, in flagrante, breaking not one, but two of the school’s rules, they all knew that they were in for what is usually known as the high jump.  The four remaining boys in the dormitory who were still in their beds, wisely tried to appear that they were asleep.

“The four of you who are engaged in the game, collect the cards and the cash together and hand the lot to me. Then go and wait for me outside of the door of my study. Oh and you, Robertson, when you get there, kindly go inside and bring me the cane which is lying on my desk.  Go on the four of you; get a move on; move yourselves boys and get on your way; and you Robertson, see that you get back here with the cane immediately if not sooner.”

Flustered and terrified of what they now saw was about to happen to them, the four cleared away the cards which they handed to Rufus before leaving to go and await their fate.  The two onlookers, who happened be the only pair of twins in the school, the Knight brothers, Andrew and Stephen, Knight major and minor to give them their formal school names, stood there, trembling visibly, in front of their irate housemaster, knowing from what had been said that the cane which Robertson was fetching was shortly destined to mate with their backsides.

Rufus wondered as he looked at the terrified pair, if Tom really understood what it was like to be waiting to feel the cane across his naked arse. Anyway that was an eventuality for Tuesday evening and Today was Saturday and so far, Rufus had found no less than six young arses which truly justified what they were about to receive. He would have preferred to have found some sixth-former engaged in some nefarious pastime which would justify a beating. 

But beggars cannot be choosers. And what the hell, six younger lads, all of whose arses justified a dose of tender loving care from his cane, were not to be sneezed at. And already, as he took in the scene and assessed its beating potential, he felt himself hardening in his trousers, as he waited impatiently for Robertson to arrive back with the cane.

“Knight major and Knight minor, come along lads move yourselves. Put your upper pillow on the bottom of your bed. Then step out of the bottoms of your pyjamas and go and bend across the bottom of your bed onto the pillow.  Come on, quick about it boys; bend over and get your bare bottoms high in the air and put your hands and faces down onto your bed. Then stay quite still in that position from which you must not even think of moving until Robertson gets back here with the cane.”

In an attempt to save themselves from what they knew was the inevitable, Stephen Knight said:  “Please sir, Andrew … I mean Knight major and I … well we weren’t actually playing at cards. We were only watching sir.  And so sir, it seems a bit…….”

Rufus finished the sentence for him: “Unfair, that you should be punished for just watching, Well, Knight minor, full marks for trying to save your own and your brother’s skin from what you know are well deserved beatings. You and your brother were both out of bed, which you both know is forbidden at this time of night. That alone, as you well know, justifies a beating. Add to that the fact that the two of you were so totally engrossed in the watching the game that you were, to all intents and purposes, playing it. So no, Knight minor, you cannot talk your way out of a thrashing. Both you and your brother are going o have your backsides thrashed very thoroughly once Robertson gets back here with my cane.”

“However I have decided to be more lenient with the pair of you, which is why you will only receive a six-cut striping here in front of your dorm-mates.  And the four of you, who are still in your beds, take heed of what happens to boys who break the rules. Remember the saying: There but for the grace of God, go I. If you break the rules, tomorrow it could be any one of you in the same situation. Ah, but here, I think, comes Robertson, bearing, alas, not tidings of great joy, I am afraid, but the rod of justice.”

Rufus turned to Robertson and said: “Thank you for your help Robertson. Kindly hand me the cane you have been so good to bring me from my study. As you can see, (waving at the two bare bottoms) your other two dorm-mates, the Knight brothers, have been eagerly awaiting your arrival. So thank you again, Robertson.  Now run along lad, and rejoin your three partners in crime and wait for me outside my study. I shall be along shortly; and I promise you that I will do my level best to make your wait worthwhile.”

A totally unconvinced Robertson said somewhat tremulously: “Thank you sir.”  And then with a sympathetic glance at the Knight brothers’ waiting buttocks and with a justifiably worried look on his face, he left to rejoin his gambling partners and await, with no illusions, his own fate.

The rest of the boys watched Rufus with that mixture of horror and morbid satisfaction on their faces which witnesses to the punishment of others often display: horror because they all knew that they could all one day receive the same treatment as that they were about to witness: satisfaction as, like all schoolboys, the world over,  they derived a certain sadistically vicarious pleasure in seeing their companions suffer.  And suffer the Knight brothers certainly did as Rufus applied six swingeing strokes of the cane to each of the unfortunate lad’s backsides. Rufus did not hold back in the least (but then, when did he ever?) as the cane whistled down through the air twelve times and mated with the lads’ buttocks with that satisfying – for Rufus anyway – crack which rattan makes when it lands forcibly on a boy’s naked arse.

This may have been what Rufus himself thought of as a lenient beating; but to judge from the howls of pain emitted by the two brothers, it was clear that they did not share the same view. When the two beatings were over, both brothers were weeping copiously. Rufus surveyed his handiwork with that sense of satisfaction which goes with a job well done:  two pairs of youthful buttocks, both well striped with the cane, which would be a painful reminder to their respective owners each time they sat down for the next few days, of the advisability of obeying the rules.

“Come on, boys, get your pyjama bottoms back on and get yourselves back into bed.”  He then addressed the rest of the dormitory, painting a grim smile onto his face: “And as for the rest of you; stay in your beds and tonight there will be no post-punishment viewings of the Knight brothers’ war wounds.  Is that clear, boys?”

And after a reluctant “Yes sir,” from the other boys, he left to go back to his own study to deal with the other four boys waiting for him there.  He ushered the four, nervous lads into his study and told them to line up in front of his desk, behind which he installed himself. “Stand to attention when I am speaking to you. As I am sure you know by now, the four of you are in very serious trouble. You are all aware that after lights-out, all boys are supposed to remain in their beds until next morning.”

“Allow me to remind you, that a dormitory, as its name implies, is a place where boys are supposed to sleep and not to play cards. And anyway cards games are strictly prohibited at all times to boys in the lower forms of the school. But you four chose to ignore both those rules; you put back on the lights and started to play cards, not imagining that you would be caught by your housemaster in a spot, late-evening check. Well you were caught as you now know, at your nefarious pastime. And to make matters worse, not only were you breaking two of the school’s rules, but you were playing cards for money; in a word, boys you were gambling!”

By this time, the four lads were trembling with fear, standing there as they were, in front of their housemaster, barefoot and wearing only their pyjamas. They knew there was nothing at all they could do to avoid what was coming next. But matters were about to become much worse as Rufus said to them:  “Right boys, there is no excuse for your appalling behaviour this evening. Your pack of cards will be confiscated and the money I picked up from the bed with which you were gambling, will be put in the poor-box in the chapel tomorrow morning.”

“Now, the four of you, take of your pyjama bottoms completely and put them on my desk. Then and go and stand facing the wall over there. Put your hands on your heads and press your noses against the wall and remain like that and do not move until I tell you otherwise. Is that clear boys? Atkins I want you on the extreme left; then you Moxon; then you Parry and finally, Robertson, you will stand on the extreme right.  I shall deal with each of you alphabetical order.”

“Begging your pardon, sir, but my name is Aitken , not Atkins, sir.”

“My apologies, Aitken, for having got our name wrong. I stand corrected.  However, Aitken, as you will shortly find when you pre-set your bottom to me for punishment with the cane, you will see that your name has little, if indeed any, importance. Now boys, so that you all understand what is about to happen to you, you will each receive twelve cuts with a senior cane on the bare. The first six strokes are the standard tariff for turning on the lights again after lights-out.  The second six are to recompense your truly well deserving bottoms for playing cards and gambling. And before you start complaining, you should count yourselves lucky that I am being lenient with you, as gambling alone is punishable by six cuts of the cane.”

“Now as you are each to receive twelve cuts in all, these will be given in two rounds of six each. So each of you boys, beginning with you Atkins – oh I do beg your pardon again; I mean Aitken – will each receive the first six cuts. You will each then return and again stand against the wall, with your hands on your heads and your noses against the wall. And then starting, alas, with you Aitken, you will each in turn again present your bottoms to me and I will give you your final six cuts.”

“Now, as and when your punishment is complete, you will each return and stand again along the wall, with your hands on your heads and your noses against the wall. And until I give you permission, under no circumstances will you allow your hands to stray to your bottoms in an attempt to relieve the extreme pain, which, if I have done my job properly, that nether part of your  anatomy will by then be feeling.  Now boys, whilst I select a suitable cane, go and stand along the wall and reflect on the very painful few minutes you are each about to have and which, had you stuck to the rules you could so easily have avoided.”

The four boys, by now terrified of what they were about to undergo, could do none other than obey Rufus’s orders. They stood there against the wall, their hands on their heads, trembling visibly, whilst Rufus searched through the inventory of canes which stood in a large oriental pot at the side of his desk. Rufus made a fuss in the search for the appropriate cane. Finally, cane in hand, he turned around, swished the rod through the air a few times to heighten the little drama he was intent on creating, and said:  “Right, boy’s I think we are now ready. You first Aitken; step forward boy and bend across the back of the armchair. I think you already know the drill and I want to see your bottom stuck well out and up in the air. Come on, Aitken, jump to it.  I haven’t got all night; we have a lot to get through and it would be impolite of you to keep your partners in crime waiting any longer than necessary.”

With clear hesitation, a trembling Aitken did as he was told and Rufus approached the deliciously plump rump so reluctantly proffered for punishment.  On inspection, he saw that there were clear traces of a previous beating, possibly seven or ten days old. “Aitken, I see from closer examination of your backside that some hand other than mine has seen fit to beat you relatively recently.  Perhaps you would like to tell us all about it. Come on, don’t be shy about it. Speak up, Aitken.  We are all ears.”

“Sir, it was last week and it was the head-boy who gave me six.”

“I see, Aitken.  So what crime did you commit to justify a beating from the head-boy?”

It then transpired that the head-boy at that time, a smiling, handsome, blonde young man, called Adam Straker, nicknamed the Stroker due to the generous way he dispensed his largesse with the cane to all comers, had caught Aitken running in the corridor – a strictly forbidden act – and had taken him straight to his study, where, with no hesitation, Aitken had been given six on the bare.

“Oh I see Aitken, so you chose to break one of the key rules of the school and were caught in the act by the head-boy, who quite justifiably beat you.  Well, Aitken, as your existing stripes are a few days old, now is an opportune moment to refresh them. Brace yourself, Aitken, as this is going to be a very painful experience for you.”

Six times, with suitable appreciation pauses between each stroke, the cane rose and fell to mate with Aitken’s trembling arse with that satisfying crack of a well applied rattan cane against naked flesh. With the first six strokes delivered, Aitken was again made to stand, his hands on his head with his nose against the wall, whilst his three classmates took their first six strokes of this very severe beating. Forbidden as they were, to touch their  backsides in an attempt to assuage the fiery pain they were all feeling, Rufus then allowed the four lads to stew, for a full five minutes, in the bitter juice, which he had just delivered to them.

“Come on, Aitken, get yourself back across the chair again and let’s get on with it.”

Poor Aitken, with tears of pain still coursing down his cheeks, implored d Rufus to stop: “Sir, please, sir, please no more. I don’t think I can stand anymore of the same, sir.  My bottom already feels as if it is on fire sir. Sir, please, sir, no more. I really don’t want anymore.”

“Young man, you should have thought of the potential consequences of your actions before you decided to break two of the strictest two rules of this school.   And as for your not being able stand additional strokes, that, Aitken, is just your personal opinion. I and I alone will decide what you can and cannot stand. Believe me, young man; you are going to take the full twelve I promised you at the outset. Your backside is perfectly capable of taking a further six, which is what it is now about to receive. So get back across the chair, boy, and stop your whining.  You made your own bed and must now lie in it. And you others, I hope you have been listening and have taken on board what I have just said to Aitken. The whole lot of you are going to take the full twelve as promised by me. Do I make myself clear?”

Six more times the cane rose and fell and mated with Aitken’s buttocks. Rufus applied the cane with exceptional ferocity and made sure that all four boys went away with a well-beaten crease, the most tender and sensitive spot on any lad’s backside.  The punishments completed, Rufus made the four boys stand there, still with their hands on their heads, before he allowed them to put back on the bottoms of their pyjamas and return to their beds. 

He then accompanied them back to their dorm, where he turned on the light again and watched as the four boys climbed back into their beds to spend what would be a very uncomfortable night for them attempting to sleep face down. He reiterated his stern warning to the rest of the boys that the customary post-beating viewings of his handiwork on the richly striped arses of their six dorm-mates would have wait until they were all together in the showers next morning.  He finally left the entire dorm wallowing in a state of shocked disbelief. Six whackings in a single evening was was a clear warning to the others that they too would suffer the same fate if they were caught misbehaving

To be continued