The Making of a Tyrannical Headmaster

CHAPTER 26

Rufus was overwhelmed with the formality with which tea had been ordered. The the Headmaster had a proper butler. Rigby was clearly a step-up from the way things were done at St. Olaf’s. And there had been a fruit cake, which, to echo the Headmaster’s words, was delicious.  Tea was practically over, when Bates quietly entered the room, to announce what was to prove a totally unexpected and amazing turn in what had been, by any standards, an extraordinary meeting so far.

“I’m sorry to disturb you Headmaster, but the head-boy is waiting outside and has asked me if he could have an urgent word with you, sir.”

The Headmaster turned to Rufus and said: “Well since the head-boy says that the matter is urgent, I suppose it would be best if, you have no objection, Rothery, if we saw him to find out what he wants.  Show the head-boy in, Bates.”

The head-boy, a tall and devilishly handsome young man, entered the room, and was clearly surprised to find that the Headmaster was not alone. “Oh, Headmaster, I’m so sorry, sir to disturb you completely unannounced, but I didn’t realise that you had a visitor; otherwise I would not have intruded on you so late in the afternoon, sir.  But Bates did not mention that you were engaged and showed me in nevertheless. However, sir, if I am disturbing you, I will withdraw and we can deal with the matter I wished to bring to your attention at another time, sir.  And as the matter I wish to discuss with you concerns one of the second-form boys, in view of the fact that you have a visitor, sir, I think it might be better if we met at some later time when you are alone, sir.”

Whilst the head-boy was speaking, Rufus was looking at the young man with an appraising eye.  Matheson had a physique that commanded the eye of anyone, who like Rufus, had a taste for the male sex.  Even fully dressed as he now was, Rufus could see that cumbersome uniform was hiding the body of a well-muscled, young stud, who just exuded sex.  Rufus found himself hardening in his trousers at the first sight of the head-boy and was already mentally undressing the lad.

Rarely was Rufus so immediately aroused as he now was; but this was a clear case of lust at first sight. Of course Rufus knew that this was all sheer fantasy and he attempted to banish all such thoughts from his mind; but they refused to go away. Somehow, he divined that Matheson and he would, in some way, commune together; that was how he put it to himself as he endeavoured, unsuccessfully as always, to control what was becoming his over-insistent cock.

“Well, Matheson, now that you are here, you may as well say your piece, which knowing you as well as I do, must be important for you to come to see me without a prior appointment. But before you begin and to put you at your ease in discussing one of our boys in front of a stranger, allow me first to introduce you to his gentlemen.  This, Rothery, is Edward Matheson, our present head-boy. And this, Matheson, is Mr. Rufus Rothery, who will be joining us next term as head of classics and also as housemaster of York House. So you may speak freely about your problem about one of our pupils as Mr. Rothery is already a de-facto staff member of this school. Now, Matheson, what is it that you feel needs my attention?”

“Headmaster, it really is most kind of you to receive me like this without an appointment, but it is a matter, which I feel should be dealt with immediately and not be allowed to drag on indefinitely.”  As he continued, he turned and looked at Rufus directly: “It concerns Milson minor, sir, who by chance happens to be a member of York House, the house of which as I have just learned you are to be the new housemaster as of the next school-year. Milson minor will be one of your future flock, sir. So, sir, quite by chance, it is most appropriate that you are present today.”

“To state things quite clearly, sir, Milson minor is a problem boy. He is never out of trouble for long. Like several other boys in York House, he seems to think that he can do exactly what he likes when it pleases him. In short, sir, he is trouble looking for somewhere to happen. His older brother, Milson major, is also a member of York House. Fortunately, he is totally the opposite to his tearaway brother and behaves himself.”

“Now, Milson minor is possibly the most beaten boy in the school. His endless pranks – and most of his disobedience falls into that category of offence – leads to his being beaten on a regular basis both by me personally and by other prefects.”

The Headmaster turned to Rufus and said: “What Matheson says is quite true, Rothery.  He is the only second former to have been sent to me personally, twice this school year, for a beating.  The lad is constantly up to something nefarious; his offences may be minor, but they just never stop.  He appears to be beyond reform: a true thorn in the flesh. And next year he will be your problem, Rothery.”

The head-boy continued: “Well sir, to get down to brass tacks, I would like to refer Milson minor to you for a really sound Headmaster’s beating, in the hope that it will finally knock some sense into the lad. Your skill, Headmaster, with the cane, is legendary, a fact to which I can attest from my earlier days at Rigby, when you saw fit, on several occasions, to demonstrate your prowess on my own bare buttocks, sir.  The beatings you gave me on several occasions have remained etched in my memory ever since, sir.”

As he listened to the head-boy’s exposition, Rufus frivolously wondered if the Headmaster’s past prowess with his cane remained etched on Matheson’s arse in addition to his memory.

“Ten days ago, sir, Milson almost knocked me off my my feet when he was running down the corridor. Now, all the boys know full well that running anywhere inside the school buildings  is strictly forbidden, as there was, in the very recent past, one unfortunate incident when an innocent party to an accident caused by running the corridors, had to be sent to hospital to have his broken arm set in plaster. So as Milson had fortuitously, and from his point of view, unfortunately, collided with me, I marched him straight to my study and gave him the mandatory whacking for his offence: six stingers on the bare, sir.”

“However, that beating seems not to have had any deterrent effet on Milson’s behaviour whatsoever, sir.  I saw him only a half hour ago, strolling, as bold as brass, across the lawn in front of the main school building sir. Now all the boys, Milson included, know that walking on the grass is strictly forbidden and is a beatable offence, sir.  So I waited for him to come into the building sir, but when he saw me, he turned on his heel and ran away down the side corridor. So I went after him and collared him.”

“So here we have a boy, sir, a repeat offender, who is a law unto himself. He clearly deserves a beating, which I was about to give to him, but in view of the fact that this is more or less a repeat performance of his antics ten days ago,  I thought, on this occasion, he might benefit – if  that is the appropriate word – from a beating administered by his Headmaster. Headmaster, it is not that I am in any way shirking my duties as head-boy. It’s just that I thought, sir that a beating administered by you, his Headmaster, might have a greater psychological effect on Milson, than yet another whacking from me.” 

“Somehow, sir, there is something chilling in being told that you are being sent to see the Headmaster. It’s always a frightening prospect for any boy. I know it was for me and on the few occasions when I was sent to see you I know I was terrified of what you were going to do to me.  So, sir, I thought on this occasion it might put the fear of God into Milson and make him see the error of his ways, if you, yourself, were to thrash him, sir. One thing is sure; one way or another Milson deserves and is going to get a very thorough beating for his two latest misdeeds.”

“Well, Matheson, I thank you for your diligence in bring this matter to my attention. And you know I am inclined to agree with you.  Where is the wretched Milson now?”

“Headmaster, I told him to wait in my study until I was ready for him sir. He knows nothing of the fact that I intended to refer him to you to you sir. As far as he knows, he is still waiting in my study for me to arrive to beat him. The lad has no illusions about his immediate fate, sir; he knows he is waiting in my study to be whacked.”

“Well Matheson, why don’t you go along and bring our young recidivist here and we will treat his bare backside to the most painful experience of its young life. I think, on this occasion in view of Milson’s continued and regular disobedience, we might pull out all the stops when we make his bottom sing to the tune of the cane.”

Whilst the head-boy was fetching Milson, the Headmaster turned to Rufus and said: “Well Rothery, what do you make of that?  With all that you now know about the lad, what would you yourself do? After all, Milson will be your problem next year as he happens to be a member of York House and as such you will have to attend to the obvious regular needs of his posterior. So, what do you recommend we do now?”

“Well sir, if it were up to me, in the light of Milson’s continued offences, if it were left to me, I would give the lad a really swingeing sixteen-cut beating on the bare: a dozen parallel cuts from top to bottom of his buttocks, applied in a very leisurely manner, to give the young miscreant time to appreciate the pain of each and every cut, completed by four gating strokes, applied diagonally across the rest. I don’t know what the practice is here at Rigby, but I doubt that the Head-boy rarely gives twelve cuts; more usually six, I should think. So already a sixteen-cut beating is more than Milson has probably bargained for.”

“And sixteen cuts on the bare applied as I have described will provide Milson with, if you pardon my vulgarity, sir, what is commonly referred to by the lads at St. Olaf’s, as a well beaten arse to display to his class-mates in the traditional post-mortem viewing as it is  called by the boys at St. Olaf’s. I believe, Headmaster, one should never underestimate the dissuasive powers which the post-mortem, prurient, vicarious viewing of a lad’s stripes by his class-mates has on them. In addition to the sexual arousal, which the examination of lad’s bruised backside inevitably incites in the viewers, it also instils that feeling of fear in them, that there, but for the grace of God, go I.”

“But with a boy like Milson, sir, who clearly has learned nothing from his repeated beatings, I think one has to go further than just more of the same. One has to inculcate into him that repeat performances of his offences will not be treated so lightly in future. I don’t know what the maximum number of strokes is allowed by the rules here at Rigby, but I imagine it might be twenty-four, the same as at St. Olaf’s.”

“I think that with incorrigible boys like Milson, one has to hold the possibility of increasingly severe punishments over the lad’s head, like the sword of Damocles, with the ultimate threat of expulsion if he does not improve. In fact, I have found that just the mention of a birching followed by threat of expulsion, without, of course, ever acting on either, often works miracles on a boy’s behaviour.”

“Well, Rothery, I see, as you said earlier, that you are not afraid to take a boy to task for his misdeeds and I am delighted to see that you believe in appropriately severe punishments. So I think, as you are here today and the opportunity has arisen, it would be entirely appropriate for you to bowl your first over, so to speak, for the masters-side at Rigby, and show the wretched Master Milson minor, the sort of treatment he can expect from his future housemaster if he continues down the path he is at present following. So, Rothery, I propose putting the cane in your obviously capable hands and asking you to beat, on my behalf, the deserving buttocks of the unfortunate Milson.”

“I should tell you, by the way, Rothery, that as I have myself beaten Milson minor on more than one occasion, I am familiar with what I think of as the callipygian topography of the lad’s buttocks. If you will pardon the expression, the boy has an arse, the two globes of which are truly worthy of intercourse and embellishment by the cane.  I am sure that once you see the splendid pair of buttocks on offer, you will do the lad justice and leave him with a souvenir, which, even if excruciatingly painful, he can be justifiably proud.”

Rufus pricked up his ears at the use of the unusual words intercourse and embellishment in reference to beating Milson’s backside.  The sentence uttered by the Headmaster was very ambiguous. Was Milton’s arse designed for intercourse with and embellishment by the cane?  Or was the Headmaster alluding to the future, when Milton’s callipygian arse might be available for intercourse with a rod of a different type? Still waters run deep and Rufus asked himself if, under that superannuated, desiccated, ascetic impression that the Headmaster gave at first sight, the juices of a sexual life were still coursing through his veins.

Rufus wondered if his new Headmaster had given way to his sexual urges, ever present, if repressed and on some occasion or other had gone further than beating the bare arse of the lad in front of him. Rufus knew that he himself had to exercise extreme restraint at times to prevent himself from giving way to his own sexual instincts when he was beating a sexually attractive boy. Was it possible that Dr. Wilton-Smith had succumbed to that temptation? Still waters run deep, so could it be that there was more to Dr. Wilton-Smith than first met the eye?

The Headmaster now raised himself from his desk and turned his attention to his pot of canes. With little or no hesitation, indicating a man who knew his mind, he selected a straight handled length of rattan with a tressed leather grip at one end, handed it to Rufus saying:  “I am sufficiently familiar with Milson’s lower anatomy to think that this length of rattan would be admirable for your purpose Rothery. Believe me, Rothery, I have used myself for many years and it has never failed to give satisfaction.”

“Normally I would use a junior cane on a second-former but as you will see, Milson is big for his age and once you see the callipygian (that erotic word again!) quality of the lad’s buttocks,  I think you will agree with me that in view of his continued disobedience, the more painful bite of a heavier rod might well be appropriate. Now, all we need is our key actor I this drama, Milson himself. Ah, here he comes now.”

As he spoke, a tap came at the door and the head-boy, ushered in a very nervous looking Milson, his hand on the lad’s shoulder, as if propelling him forward to his doom.  Not surprisingly, the lad looked very nervous. He clearly had not thought that the result of his latest escapades would lead to a confrontation with his Headmaster.

The Headmaster now exercised his position of authority in a typical game of not-so-humorous badinage with Milson, who was already trembling like a leaf at thought of what was about to happen to him.

“Ah, Milson, how nice of you to join us. I’ve missed seeing you these last few weeks for one our intimate little tête-à-tête occasions; or perhaps I should say cane-to-bare-bottom occasions, which, as I am sure you would agree, more accurately describes the enjoyable moments we spent together. Now let me see; it must be two months since you had the pleasure of allowing me to address your posterior with the cane, an event, which I am sure you have sorely missed. I know I have!”

“However, all good things have to come to an end sooner or later and I suppose that my very excellent head-boy, who has been thoughtful enough to think of your wellbeing in bringing you to me today, has in the interim, been taking taking care of, what I seem to remember as a boy whose bottom demanded regular and vigorous encounters with the cane.  However, all that is the past; water under the bridge, so to speak, and the important things is that you and I are able to renew our agreeable acquaintance again today.”

What poor Milson, for whom, in spite of his misdeeds, one had to extend a little sympathy, made of this torrent of sarcastic persiflage from his Headmaster we shall never know. The boy just stood there his head low, shaking like a leaf, not knowing what was about to happen to him.

“So, Milson, do you know why the head-boy has referred you to me today, rather than dealing with your latest escapade himself? Well, boy, I will tell you why; it is because the head-boy had occasion to beat you only ten days ago for the selfsame offence as he caught you committing again today.  Milson, it seems to both the head-boy and me that you are one of those boys who chooses not learn from experience, even when that experience is painful.” 

“Therefore, the head-boy felt that on this, the second occasion within less than two weeks that he has again caught you running in the corridor, a firmer hand than his was needed to correct you.  You seem unfortunately to have become addicted to a practice, which, as you are abundantly aware, is strictly forbidden.  And so he decided to refer you to me, in the hope that the rigour of a Headmaster’s beating would bring you to your senses.”

“You, Milson, are unique in the annals of Rigby School. You are the only boy ever to be referred to me by any head-boy during my long tenure in this school, because he felt that he could not himself adequately deal with you. That, Milson, is quite an achievement on your part.”

By now Milson was on the verge of tears. But the Headmaster had got the bit between his teeth and was not going to let Milson off lightly He continued, laying on his remarks in spades in the same sadistic way, upbraiding the boy.  “Milson, I think you should thank your lucky stars that the head-boy had your best interests at heart and decided to send you to me in an attempt to save you from your own worst instincts.  Indeed, I think you should thank not only your own lucky stars, but also the head-boy personally for his generosity of spirit in having had the good sense to refer you to me, once he realised that your problems were just too much for him to solve by himself.”

“Now, Milson, I am sure that you are expecting me to beat you for your latest offence, or perhaps I should more accurately say your two latest offences. Walking, across the lawn and running in the corridor are both practices which are strictly forbidden and each of which leads to a six cut beating for the transgressor: in the present case you, Milson. Well, Milson, I am afraid on this occasion I shall have to disappoint you, as I am not going to beat you.”

On hearing these words, Milson reacted as if he had been given a shot of adrenaline to drag him back from death’s door.  The change in his demeanour was more or less instantaneous; by the Grace of God, for some unknown reason, the Headmaster was not going to beat him! You could see the relief on the lad’s face as he thought he had escaped unscathed from his recent exploits.

However, his relief was short lived as the Headmaster continued: “Yes. Milson, as I say, I am not going to beat you myself on this occasion as I have handed that sad task over to this gentleman standing here.  Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Rothery, who will be your new housemaster next term after Mr. Rawsthorne has retired.  So as your new housemaster just happened to be here today, I thought it very appropriate, Milson, that he make his first acquaintance with you by beating your bottom, an act which we all agree you deserve.” 

“You, Milson, will be in the enviable position vis-à-vis your schoolmates as being the first boy in York House to be able to compare and contrast the beating techniques of the present head-boy, your Headmaster, and your new housemaster. Quite an achievement, for a second former, wouldn’t you say, Milson? But now, enough of all this talk; actions, as the saying goes, speak louder than words.  So, Milson, I shall hand you over to the very capable hands of your future Housemaster, Mr. Rothery.”

So far Rufus had not said a word and Milson’s punishment had not been communicated to him.  “Come over here and stand to attention in front of me, Milson. Well boy, let me first tell you as your future housemaster, what I feel a just and equitable punishment for your continued disobedience will be. I gather that you, Milson, are a serial offender, who appears not to be able to learn from his mistakes, even when the consequences have been rather painful. Your latest offences make me wonder if you will ever learn any commonsense. But, Milson, it is the duty of us all to try our best to set you on the straight and narrow path to obedience.”

“Now, and you may correct me if I am wrong, but as I understand it the head-boy caught you running in the corridor some ten days ago and beat you for the offence. And just an hour or so ago, the head-boy saw you walking across the lawn in front of the main school building, which again, as you well know, is a beatable offence. But when he attempted to stop you in the corridor, you ran off in an attempt to escape punishment. So, as I see it, Milson, this very day you have committed two separate offences, each of which carries a mandatory six-stroke beating.  And to make matters worse, one of these offences was a repeat of something for which you were punished just ten days ago.”

“Milson, what were you thinking of, boy, to imagine that such behaviour could ever be tolerated?  And so, Milson, in view of all I know, which your silence tells me is correct, as your future housemaster, I now intend, to give you what will possibly be the soundest and most painful beating of your life to date. In the best tradition of this school, your bare bottom will be subject to six strokes for each of the two offences you have just committed and a further four strokes for running away from the head-boy in an attempt to escape punishment.”

“So, Milson, you will receive twelve-strokes parallel complemented by four, gating strokes diagonally applied in the best tradition across your bare buttocks. So Milson, if you would kindly remove the items of your clothing which will allow you to present your bare bottom to me for correction.”

Perhaps we need to note that the school uniform at Rigby was, to say the very least, old-fashioned. Boys wore pin-striped trousers, a black coat with a small tail, which they vulgarly called a bum-flap, a white shirt and bow tie and a black waistcoat braided with their house colours.  So Milson’s preparation for baring his arse was quite a procedure.

The Headmaster said to Rufus: “Sorry Rothery, but when a boy arrives for an unscheduled beating fully dressed as is our friend, Milson, here, undressing to make bare that essential part of his lower anatomy which is vital to the drama, is always a long-winded business.   To avoid such delays when, as is often the case, several boys are to be beaten, those lucky lads whose names are on the list for that evening’s punishment parade, as we call it here at Rigby, know that they have first to go to the gym changing rooms and don their gym-shorts and vests before the presenting themselves to me for punishment.”

The Headmaster looked first at the now hyper-nervous Milson who had still not made any effort to strip for his ordeal and then at the head-boy. Matheson saw immediately that he needed to intervene to progress matters: “Come on, Milson, move yourself boy, Get your shoes off first, then your coat and waistcoat so that you can more easily get off your pants and underwear. Come on boy get a move on; you’re keeping your future housemaster waiting.”

It is just worth noting as a bit of social history, that Milson had to remove not only his coat, but also his waistcoat.  At the time this little drama was being enacted, boys of all ages were still wearing braces, rather than belts, to support their trousers.  In view of the labour involved for a boy fully dressed to present his backside for punishment, it is not surprising that Rigby, in common with many other public schools, including St. Olaf’s, had adopted the policy of what was usually described as appropriate attire – gym shorts and vests – for boys to wear when they were summoned for a beating. 

With help from the head-boy, Milson, now trembling like a leaf, had shed is lower garments. The Head-boy glanced across towards what was a Victorian punishment chair, with a heavily padded, adjustable- height cross-rail, across which, the unfortunate Milson was now to be made to bend and present his nakedness to the unknown ministrations of his future housemaster.

The head-boy moved the chair in readiness into the middle of the room. “Well come on, Milson, move yourself boy. You, of all people, should know the drill by now. Bend over the back of the chair, put your hands on the seat and keep them there until Mr. Rothery tells you otherwise.”

Milson had no option but to do as he had been told and display his naked bottom to the assembled company. The head-boy adjusted the height of the chair back – how the Victorians loved their gadgets – stretching Milson’s buns to their limit in readiness for the onslaught of the dreaded cane.  He looked at Rufus and said: “Well, I think sir that Milson is ready and awaiting his punishment, sir.  So I think you are free to begin, sir.”

Cane in hand, Rufus approached Milton stretched over the back of the beating chair and looked for the first time at the arse which the Headmaster had just described as being callipygian. One had to admit that the old-boy was spot-on in his exotic description of Milton’s posterior. It was everything that a connoisseur of the gentle art of beating could wish for: two magnificently plump, tightly presented globes of young flesh just crying out to be mated with the cane.  As Rufus took in the sheer magnificence of Milton’s buttocks he noticed the traces of what must have been the beating given by the head-boy’ ten days ago.

As ever, when faced with the pleasure of a boy’s naked arse to beat – and what an alluringly attractive arse Milton had – Rufus felt the pressure of that customary boner developing in his trousers.  As he was being observed by both his future Headmaster and the present head-boy and with no academic gown to hide his obvious erection, he felt somewhat embarrassed, as he felt the crotch of his trousers being inexorably tented by his uncontrollable erection.

 However, a quick glance at the other two assured him that he was not alone in his arousal. Just the sight, let alone the beating, of Milton’s exceptionally attractive backside had already worked its same erotic magic on the pair of them. So there they were, Headmaster and head-boy, practically salivating at the prospect of watching Rufus shred Milton’s arse.

Rufus had beaten boys’ naked arses times without number. Nor was he a stranger to beating boys in the presence of their peers, as for example, in a dormitory beating, were all the lads were made to bend across the end of their beds and offer their nakedness to the scourge of the cane, But never before had Rufus been in the position where he was expected to give what amounted to a demonstration of his prowess with the cane in front of his peers. 

So even he, who never ever hesitated to strike whilst the iron was hot, had a slightly nervous feeling in the bottom of his stomach about performing – for performing was exactly what he was doing – in front of his future Headmaster and head-boy.  But he quickly shrugged off his initial nervousness and decided that he would demonstrate to his two observers and also, in a rather different way, to Milson, what constituted a virtuoso beating.

Much to the surprise of both of the two observers, Rufus positioned himself on Milson’s right as he had decided that he would beat the lad backhand. The backhand stroke, rarely used, is nevertheless, in the hands of an expert such as Rufus, totally deadly.

“Milson, you will keep absolutely still whilst I punish you. If you jump up or try to put your hands to your bottom, then I shall start again and it will be worse for you.  Now, relax your buttocks as otherwise the cane will bounce from your clenched muscles and I shall be obliged to start again.  So, Milson, relax completely and stay quite still throughout.  You may make as much noise in appreciation of my efforts on your behalf as you wish, but you may not move until I tell you to do so.”

“So now, brace yourself, boy, for the twelve parallel strokes. You may thank your lucky star that in spite of your repeat offences, I am nevertheless being lenient with you and that I am not intending to double any strokes.”

A trembling Milson waited whilst Rufus decided where the exact mid-point of his buttocks was.  He tapped away with the cane as if hesitating where to place the first of the twelve, parallel strokes from which the unfortunate Milson, was to benefit. Then suddenly, the taping ceased and the cane was no longer touching Milson’s bare bottom.  

Its target had been defined and the fatidic moment had arrived. Rufus brought the cane down, whistling through that air, to come to a sudden abrupt stop accompanied by that inimitable resounding crack so familiar to many public school boys, as the well-applied length of well-seasoned rattan mated with its target, delivering its message of pain loud and clear.

For a brief moment, Milson felt nothing. Then suddenly, the searing, excruciating pain of that cutting first stroke hit him. Milson had been caned many times in the past, both by prefects, various head-boys and the Headmaster himself. But never before had he experienced anything remotely as painful as this first cut delivered by his future housemaster. His backside felt as if it had been cut with a knife and had then been subjected to being branded with a red-hot poker. Milson was in indescribable agony from that first moment on, and he let his audience know his feelings by emitting a piercing cry of pain.

Rufus, inured as ever to the excessive histrionics of any boy he was beating, pressed on as if he was deaf. In his usual deliberate and unhurried way, he applied stroke after stroke at intervals of some ten seconds.  At each stroke, as was appropriate for the key player, Milson’s vocal contribution to the drama became ever more strident. After only three cuts, Rufus was gratified to see that he had reduced the lad to tears. He systematically placed cuts alternatively above and below that first defining stroke, thereby creating an ever spreading field of pain with what might be thought of as two live edges.

The strokes were placed very close together but with no overlapping, each cut landing on a virgin spot on Milton’s bare bottom.  As Rufus applied the final stroke to the most sensitive part of to Milton’s crease, he saw with some considerable satisfaction that with his twelve accurately applied strokes, he had more or less covered the whole surface of Milson’s buns with livid stripes. Rufus thought to himself as he admire his own handiwork that he had provided Milson with that hallmark of a public school thrashing, the well-beaten arse. But there were still the four gating strokes to add to finish off this pictorial masterpiece of flagellative art.

By now, Milson was in a full flood of tears and sobbingly begged Rufus to stop. But Rufus, as ever, unmoved by the pleas, pressed on regardless. If ever a boy needed a definitive beating it was Milson and Rufus intended to make it just that: something that would linger long in Milson’s mind and hopefully make him think again before embarking on another misdeed.

Before continuing, Rufus decided to take a five-minute pause to allow Milson to stew in his own, painful juice and to contemplate that more pain was still to come. Rufus then applied the final four gating cuts, two diagonally from the right and two diagonally form the left, leaving Milson with a very artistic-looking, but also excruciatingly painful arse. 

“You may get up, Milson, and put back on your clothes then come and stand to attention in front of me.”  Milson obeyed with some difficulty as he was obviously in great pain from what he had just received. But eventually he was again more or less fully dressed and ship-shape and standing in front of Rufus as ordered. “Milson, I have just given you what I suspect was the soundest thrashing of your life, a painful experience, which you, young man, richly deserved. In view of your continuous flouting of the school rules, your beating today was more severe than usual as you had repeated the same offence within ten days.  You, Milson, appear to have an unfortunate mental-blockage which stops you learning from previous experience.”

“Now, Milson, let me make something quite clear to you here and now.  Next term, I shall be your housemaster and believe me boy, I am not joking, when I tell you that I will have my eyes on you the entire time. If I detect any misdemeanour of any kind on your part, make no mistake, boy, I shall have no hesitation in beating you soundly as many times as it takes until you toe the line.”

“Milson, let me promise you, here and now, that if I have any trouble at all from you, young man, will go to bed nursing a bottom so painful that what you have just received in retribution for your latest misdeeds, will seem like the touch of a feather.  Now Milson, unless you have anything you would like to say, you may put back on your clothes and leave.”

Milson, completely cowed by the beating he had just received, left the Headmaster’s study in tears. His only consolation – a small one at that – was that he would have a trophy of an arse, which would be the wonder of his room-mates in the obligatory post-beating viewing.

CHAPTER 27

“Well, Rothery, I think I can say that you are possibly the most efficient and vigorous user of the cane I have ever seen in my life: you, sir, are certainly a man after my own heart.  The punishment you have just given Milson was really exemplary and I take my hat off to you.  York House will have a formidable new housemaster next term.  And I am delighted that you do not hold back at all. I am at one with you when you say that if a boy deserves a beating, then it has got to hurt. And seeing what you just gave Milson, your actions confirmed your words.  If the wretched boy does not reform after that beating he has just received, then I despair of ever reforming him.”

“Now, it s almost six and I have a number of things which need my attention. So might I suggest that I leave you in the capable hands of my head-boy, Matheson, who will show you around the place by way of an introduction to the topography of the school? Then at eight I would be delighted if you would both join me back here for dinner; dress informal, by the way.”

Rufus had not anticipated being placed in a situation in which he was to be alone with the head-boy for two hours. It was not that he objected to the young man’s company: indeed quite the contrary. But he had already had those uncontrollable, erotic stirrings in his groin as Matheson had entered the Headmaster’s study just a half-hour ago. And now here he was, alone in the company of this exceptionally sexy young man to whom he had immediately been attracted; an attraction over which he knew he had absolutely no control;  it was a simple fact of life about which he could do nothing other than attempt exercise extreme restraint and rein in his feelings. 

Somehow he had a strange feeling that in the next two hours the worthy Matheson would show him a lot more than the topography of the school. That relatively unused word had been aired twice by the Headmaster that afternoon; once in the combination with the equally rarely-used word, callipygian, to describe Milson’s bottom and now again to describe the lay-out of the school. He wondered if he would be able to resist exploring the topography of Matheson’s arse

Matters were not made any easier for him when Matheson said: “Sir, I just wanted to say to you that I greatly admired the way you dealt with Milson; he really did deserve the thrashing you gave him, sir.  One can but hope, sir that your efforts have some effect on him and that he has finally learned his lesson, although, knowing him as I do, sir, I have my serious doubts. Anyway, sir, next term you will have him under your wing as you will be his housemaster. But, sir, I also wanted to say that I truly admired your technique with the cane. I have never before seen anyone use that back-handed method as you did just now. But I see that it enables the cane to be brought down in one smooth, uninterrupted arc.”

“And I also notice, sir, the wrist flick which you made just before impact; it really gives the stroke that little extra bite.  Anyway, sir, in me you have gained a great admirer. The retribution you visited on Milson just now, sir, was for me and I suspect also for the Headmaster, sir, a master-class; a true revelation, in the art of beating. I learned so much in those few moments from watching you, sir.”

So for a half hour, Matheson gave Rufus a quick guided tour of the main school buildings, pointing out the one which housed the boys of York House, the place where Rufus would live and exercise his functions of as housemaster next term.  It was obvious as time passed and the two of them strolled around the various buildings that the head-boy was as smitten with Rufus as Rufus was with him.  Things came to a head when Matheson said: “Well sir, perhaps you might like to see my own quarters, before we join the head-master for dinner.”

Rufus immediately saw that to accept an invitation to visit the head-boy’s study alone was to skate on thin ice. The attraction between them had already become electric and Rufus saw that the handsome Matheson was in process of seducing him. But in spite of his better judgement never to allow himself to become involved with any pupil, Rufus threw caution to the winds and allowed the head-boy to lead the way to his study.  As they walked along the corridor in the main building where the head-boy had his rooms, they saw two boys, obviously first formers, dressed only in their gym-kit, waiting at the door of the the head-boy’s study.

“Oh sir, I had completely forgotten with all that has happened this afternoon with Milson, that today is Wednesday and twice each week, on Wednesday evenings and Sunday mornings after chapel, boys with ten or more demerits have to present themselves to me for a mandatory beating. You see, sir, here at Rigby we have this system of demerits…”

“The Headmaster has already explained to me the demerit system and the sting in the tail it brings to boys once they have collected ten demerits.  So I suppose that those two unfortunate boys are waiting for you to arrive to embellish their naked backsides with the mandatory six. They look like very unhappy first-formers to me; but then, it’s not at all surprising when they know that they are shortly to be whacked on the bare?  Waiting to be caned is never a very pleasant prospect for most boys, although I have known exceptions.”

On hearing this final remark, Matheson looked intently at Rufus and said, somewhat cryptically: “Well, sir, as you say there are always exceptions, but somehow I don’t think that this pair number among them. In fact, sir, I know them quite well as they are both regular attendees at my Wednesday and Sunday, demerit gatherings. They both collect demerits as fast as bees collect honey and I have already whacked both of them twice this year.  In fact, sir, they are, in their own way, on the beginning of the same slippery slope that our friend Milson minor seems intent on following. So, I’m afraid sir, I shall have to do my duty as head-boy as all demerit beatings devolve on me.”

“Well, young man, as you say that you learned a lot from watching me deal with Milson earlier today, this will give me an opportunity to see whether you intend to put into practice any of your newly-acquired knowledge of the gentle art of backhand flagellation.”  Rufus concluded this statement with a slight laugh.

“You mean, sir that you are willing to watch me deal with these two lads, sir; to watch me beat them, sir?  Well, sir, if that is what you wish, then it will be an honour to have you present and to give me your opinion after I have finished thrashing them, sir. Any useful tips on how I could improve my technique with the cane are always welcome sir; especially when coming from an expert such as you, sir.”

These remarks had all been made as the two of them had walked slowly down the corridor to where the two unfortunates were waiting; and a very nervous-looking, unhappy pair of lads they made.

Matheson said: “Well, boys, this seems to be becoming quite a habit for the two of you. However, it’s nice to see you both again as I always enjoy whacking a familiar bottom.”

Matheson then turned to Rufus and said: “Allow me to introduce these two serial miscreants to you, sir. This, sir, is Wainwright and that is Mainwood. They are neck-to-neck candidates for the school’s end of term, serial-delinquency award. And this gentleman, boys, is Mr. Rothery, who will be the new housemaster of York House next term. Now if my memory serves me correctly, I believe you, Wainwright, are a member of York House; so Mr. Rothery will have the pleasure of making the visual acquaintance of your bare bottom today, a part of your anatomy which judging by your performance to date, he will, no doubt, next term, as your housemaster, be obliged to address in the traditional way. Now boys, I see you are each clutching your Demerit Book in your sweaty paws, so please hand them over to me over and wait here until I call you into my study.”

Rufus was surprised by the spacious accommodation which the school accorded its head-boy. He had a large study with an open fire, a bathroom and a bedroom. It was positively palatial when compared with the facilities at St. Olaf’s.  He noticed immediately that in accord with the importance laid on the use of corporal punishment at the school, the head-boy’s study was also furnished with a proper height- adjustable, beating chair of the same type as he had himself used in the Headmaster’s study.  He was later to find that the self-same piece of furniture designed for the correct positioning of any boy’s arse for a beating, was also present in the library, where prefects carried out their beatings and in his own study in York House. Rigby was clearly a place where the beneficial effects of the cane were taken very seriously indeed.

Matheson tossed the two Demerit Books onto his desk, opened a long drawer from which he withdrew a three-foot long junior cane. He then pulled the punishment chair into the centre of the room and said to Rufus: “Well, sir, would you, as my guest here today, care to decide which of the two lucky lads shall I beat first: Mainwood or Wainwright?”

Mainwood was the first to be called in, leaving Wainwright nervously awaiting his fate in the corridor. With Wainwright’s Demerit Book in his hand, Matheson looked at the trembling lad who stood nervously in front of him. “Wainwright, correct me if I am wrong, but it seems to me looking at this book that this will be the third time his year that I shall be correcting you for your demerits.  In a nutshell Wainwright, you, boy,  have accumulated no less than thirty demerit marks so far, which means that in a few minutes I shall be obliged to beat you for the third time this year. Moreover, as the summer term still has several weeks to run, with a little effort on your part, you may find yourself nursing yet a fourth painfully sore bottom to take with you on your train journey home for the long-vacation.”

“Now, Wainwright, I am sure that you are aware that the school rules provide for a six cuts for each ten demerits. But what you are probably unaware of is that if a boy has already beaten twice in any one year for his demerits, then I, as head-boy, am allowed to make his punishment more severe. I don’t have to tell you, do I Wainwright, that you today fall into precisely that category. Now the rules allow me to give you an extra six cuts. However, I have decided, on this occasion, to be lenient with you and limit your supplementary punishment to three cuts only.  But let us be quite clear, Wainwright; if you are back in here again with your Demerit Book before the end of this term you will receive a twelve cut beating.”

Whether Wainwright thought that a nine-cut beating was lenient, we shall never know. But he wisely thought that he should acknowledge Matheson’s generosity and said:  “Thank you, Matheson, for being so lenient with me. I much appreciate it.”

“Well, Wainwright, as a regular patient of mine, you know the drill; the chair eagerly awaits you. So take off your shorts and bend across the back, stick your bare arse well up into the air, boy, and keep perfectly still whilst I teach you your third lesson this year.”

Matheson looked smilingly at Rufus as he placed himself to Wainwright’s right clearly intending to attempt a backhand beating. Rufus motioned to Matheson to hand him the cane and said: “Matheson, perhaps it might help if you would allow me to refresh your memory on exactly how this is done. With your permission, I will give our friend Wainwright here the first three of his nine strokes, backhand. And as Wainwright will be a member of my flock in York House next term, I think it very appropriate that he have a foretaste of what he can expect from his new housemaster next term, if he breaks the rules.”

Matheson handed Rufus the cane and he went ahead and gave  Wainwright three swingeing, backhand cuts  across the middle of his buttocks, which, whilst they may not have qualified for the accolade of callipygian like Milson’s,  were nonetheless, eminently beatable. Then Matheson, after this brief refresher course in the technique of backhand beating, went on and delivered the remaining cuts. And it has to be said that as a beginner at the less-than-easy-to-place-accurately, backhand strokes, acquitted himself quite well.  Whether Wainwright realised or not that he had been a sort of guinea-pig for Matheson’s new technique, he nevertheless bawled his painful appreciation for what he had received and went on his way with a well-welted arse sporting nine clear furrows of pain.

“Tell Mainwood to come in as you leave,” said Matheson.  As this was only Mainwood’s second demerit beating of the year, Matheson gave him only the standard six-cuts. But Rufus noticed that Matheson did not hold back and laid on the cane with vigour; so the lad left with a well-beaten arse, the pain of which would be with him for several days. “Clearly,” thought Rufus, “He was joining a school where the cane reigned supreme and when it was applied, it was applied with vigour; so caveat puer – boy beware!”

As is more often than not the case, both Rufus and the head-boy had become sexually fully aroused by the two beatings.  It was impossible to pretend otherwise as both young men – and they were both young men for Rufus himself was only twenty-five – stood gazing at each other, their trouser crotches  tented to the maximum by their rampant organs demanding immediate attention. Someone had to say something as they could not ignore what was mutually staring them in the face.

It was Matheson who broke the silence: “Sir, I wonder if you would consider doing me a great favour, sir. I have to ask, as not to mince words, we are both, if you will forgive the observation, sir in a state of sexual arousal, which, as I am sure you know better than I do, sir, leads us – well me, at least – to acts which are, well, not exactly accepted as normal sir.” 

It was obvious to Rufus listening to this long and wordy prologue to Matheson’s request, that whatever it was he wanted to say was causing him considerable difficulty to put into words. “Well come on, Matheson, spit it out. What exactly is it that you want from me?”

“Well sir, it’s like this. You see sir, I have a secret which only a few people know about, which is really quite difficult to reveal to you.l you. But well, sir, it’s like this. You can see the effect that beating those two lads has had on both of us, sir. Well, sir, now that we have done that to them sir and sent them on their way with very sore bottoms, sir, I have to confess, sir that I would really like to feel a touch of the same on my own backside, if you see what I am getting at, sir.”

“Yes, Matheson, I see exactly what you are getting at. You would like me to give you a beating as you are – and correct me if I have got the wrong end of the stick – one of those rare people that actually enjoys the pain of a well-beaten arse. It’s a rare condition and is not one which I personally share, but it is not unknown to me. It’s known as consensual corporal punishment; when one man allows another to beat him to satisfy his urge to be punished.  It’s not anything that I would want for myself, I have to tell you, but I know that some men do allow themselves to be beaten voluntarily and actually enjoy it.”

Naturally, Matheson was totally unaware of the relationship between Rufus and Tom Swires. What he did regularly to Tom, his lover, was was exactly what Matheson was now asking Rufus to do to him.

“I have to tell you, Matheson that it is not normal practice, for a boy to ask a master – and just a visiting master, someone he has only just met – to thrash him and it is something which requires clear thought before it takes place. After all it might put me in a compromising situation. It is an unheard of event for me, as a visitor, to participate in the beating of two boys, as I have done. But to agree to your request moves us totally into the unknown. Just think of the repercussions if someone were to find me in the act of thrashing your naked backside –I presume you would want it done on the bare – even if you were a willing party to the act. Are you absolutely sure, that you want to feel the pain of having your arse beaten by me, Matheson?”

By now, Rufus knew full well that he was allowing himself to be seduced into thrashing Matheson. And in spite of the unique circumstances in which he found himself and in the full knowledge that he was playing with fire, he knew that he had found Matheson so sexually attractive on first sight, that he would ultimately throw caution to the winds and do as Matheson had requested.

In fact, there was, at that moment, nothing he would enjoy more than beating Matheson’s arse; well, perhaps there might be just one other thing! But for the moment, it was clearly Matheson’s admiration of Rufus’s prowess with the cane, which appeared to be the prime motivation for his extraordinary request. Perhaps the other thing might follow thereafter.

“Sir, if we lock the door and I switch on my engaged light, we will not be disturbed. So is it a goer, sir? Will you do what I want?”

Rufus did not wish to appear to be over eager to agree to Matheson’s suggestion, but he had no intention of allowing an invitation to whack what he saw as a muscular young man, with a bubble-butt of an arse, go to waste. So he said: “Matheson, answer me this. Is this the first time that you have requested someone else to thrash you or is it a regular part of your life as head-boy here at Rigby?  And if it is a regular part of your present life, might I ask who the other party to this bizarre request is?”

Matheson looked somewhat embarrassed by this leading question, but he gave Rufus a clear unequivocal answer without actually naming names: “Well, sir, since you ask, there are three of us in the upper-sixth with the same taste. And so, sir, from time-to-time we get together and give each other a taste of the cane.  I would not say that it was very regular, perhaps once a month, sir, we manage to exercise what I suppose I have to admit is our secret vice. But, sir we do no harm to anyone; it’s just among the three of us sir.”

“But please, sir, don’t ask me to name the other two, sir, And, sir, if you decide that you do not want to thrash me yourself, please don’t mention anything we have discussed together to anyone else, sir. If the Headmaster found out, sir, all three of us would be expelled and our university careers would be jeopardised sir. It’s just that the three of us have this rather unusual taste, sir, in which we indulge from time to time.”

“Well, Matheson, as you are evidently a great admirer of my skill with the cane, on this one occasion – and I stress, on this one occasion only, I will grant you your wish and beat your arse for you. But as you have already said, what we are about to do together is an arrangement between two gentlemen and must go no further than this room. And by that I mean that you must promise never to mention to anyone, your two friends together with whom you indulged your bizarre tastes included, what is now about to happen between us.”

“Received loud and clear and understood perfectly, sir. And I cannot thank you enough, sir, for being willing to grant my wish to cane me. Sir, having seen you twice today in action, believe me, sir, it will be a privilege to be beaten by you.  As I have already said, sir, your beating of Milson minor this afternoon was a master-class in the art of handling the cane. I learned so much just from watching you, sir.”

“Matheson, flattering though it is to be praised, I am afraid you might be over-egging the pudding with you fulsome enthusiasm for my abilities with the cane. Frankly, you are beginning to sound like a turkey voting for Christmas, rushing in where even angels might fear to tread. So just hold your horses, young man until you have felt the bite of the cane applied by me to your bare arse.  You might then feel slightly different about what you have wished for.” 

“Remember, Matheson, that I am a hard caner and if I beat you, I shall not hold back. I shall give you the same treatment as I gave Milson this afternoon. At my present school I am generally acknowledged to be the hardest caner of all: prefects, housemasters and the Headmaster himself, included. So beware what you have wished for, as you may not like the results. And let us be quite clear, Matheson, once you are over the chair and I have started, there will be no stopping until I have given you your six cuts. The proof of the pudding, it is said, is in the eating; so I tell you here and now that I shall deliver you a plateful of it, which once you have tasted the first mouthful, you may well not find to your taste.”

“And remember also that when you get up from the beating chair, with your arse on fire like never before, there is no way of switching off the pain. The results will be with you for several days. So, Matheson, with those warnings, lock your study door, young man, hand me your senior cane and present your naked arse to me across the chair, when I shall do my very best to rise to the occasion and meet your expectations.”

There was then a slight pause as Matheson fumbled to divest himself of his rather cumbersome school uniform.  Rufus watched with ever increasing arousal as Matheson’s buttocks were finally freed of both trousers and underpants.  And now that they were in full view, they were everything that Rufus had imagined.  Unlike Milson’s sensual well shaped buns, Matheson, clearly a keen sportsman, had a well muscled, fleshy arse, the first sight of which almost made Rufus cum in pants. There was little doubt at all but that Matheson’s physique had aroused Rufus’s cock to the point of no return. Rufus just knew in his own heart that the beating would be the prelude to what was to follow.

But first things first: “Matheson, kindly bend across the chair and present your arse to me, boy so that I can grant you your wish.”

The half-naked Matheson approached the chair and adjusted the added back-rail to suite his own height. He then bent across it, presenting his splendid pair of buttocks to Rufus. But he did more than just offer his arse for beating, for he spread his legs invitingly, giving Rufus a clear view of his anus. If this was not a silent offering of things to come, then what was?  Talk about Lieder ohne Wörter –Songs without Words – a series of piano pieces by the composer, Felix Mendelssohn; this was a wordless but nevertheless clear invitation to Rufus to commune with Matheson over and above the agreed whacking.

As Rufus prepared himself to place the first stroke of the six he intended to give Matheson, a sudden feeling of guilt coursed through him as he thought of his lover, Tom Swires. He did not feel that he was betraying Tom by just beating Matheson, but he knew now that destiny was propelling him in the direction of an act which would go way beyond a simple act of flagellation.  As he gazed on Matheson’s buttocks, he saw that they bore traces of an earlier beating, presumably given by one of his friends, so this was confirmation of the fact that Matheson had submitted himself voluntarily to the bite of the cane.

And as he had promised, Rufus did not hold back at all with the cane. As stroke followed stroke, he watched the development of the six, angry furrows left by the incisive bite of the cane.  Other than Tom Swires he had never before participated in a beating where the victim – let us call him that – had volunteered himself for the punishment he was receiving. Matheson made complementary comments on the pleasure of each stroke as it cracked down on his naked flesh. Rufus increased the ferocity of delivery with each successive stroke, but he did not succeed in raising the slightest, vocal indication of pain from Matheson.

Finally it was all over and Rufus looked down at his handiwork, which was, as ever, a text-book example of how to apply the cane. “You can get up now, Matheson. That’s your lot for today.”

Matheson, however, did not move from his position over the chair and spread his legs even further apart as he said: “Well, go on sir, you know you want to do it. So go on; just do it.  Sir, there is a bottle of oil in the bottom drawer of my desk; so you might want to use that to ease your way in when you penetrate me, sir.”

Was Rufus shocked by this bald, unsolicited invitation to fuck the head-boy? Well not really, as reading between the lines of what was happening he had already seen that Matheson was grooming him for the ultimate act, which given the explicit, verbal  invitation he had just received, Matheson wanted to happen. The prime mover in this little drama was Matheson himself and it was obvious to Rufus that the young man now wanted sex with him just as much as he he wanted Rufus to beat him. There was a great deal more to Matheson than first met the eye. 

Since he had left St. Olaf’s to go to university, Rufus had never again had sex with a pupil of the school. As a homosexually active man himself, he had always, until now, kept his sex life and school life totally separated.  And since meeting Tom Swires, he had ceased having sex with any other man. In a word, he had become utterly faithful to his lover. But now, faced with one of the most attractive looking young arses he had ever seen and the desire of its owner to have sex with him, the temptation was just too great. And let’s face it; Rufus was, at the end of the day, a human being like any other and was subject to all the emotions and desires that sex awakens in a man.  So it is not surprising that his principles crumbled as he succumbed, as a schoolmaster, for the first time ever, to the allure of a schoolboy’s backside.

Of course, Matheson was aged eighteen, going on nineteen, and he was clearly, on present evidence, a sexually highly experienced young man. But he was, nevertheless, in spite of his age still a pupil at Rigby School and subject to all its regulations. So Rufus knew that in accepting Matheson’s invitation for sex, he was skating on very thin ice. But sex is such a powerful motivating force that it sweeps all caution away. So that is how Rufus found himself stripping off his own clothes as he prepared to shaft Matheson’s gorgeously inviting anus.

Matheson was one of those young men whose lower anatomy, apart from his bush of blondish pubic hair, was devoid of any hair at all. So, as Rufus prepared to penetrate him, he was offered the prospect of two smooth, hair-free globes between which was what looked like a virgin anus, but which, given Matheson’s enthusiastic request for sex, was probably not. But virgin or not, at that very moment, what Matheson was offering to Rufus was just the most invitingly attractive sex proposition in the world.

As Rufus’s already rock-hard member freed itself from the clothes in which it had been constrained it sprang to immediate attention, the now semi-naked Rufus reached into the desk drawer for the oil, with which he liberally baptised what he would have liked to have thought of as a virgin arse.  But without asking, he knew from Matheson’s eagerness for sex, that he was not the first to be given access to one of lad’s two most precious possessions. And then with his own member hard as a rock, well-lubricated and now dripping liberally with cum, and, he pushed himself firmly against Matheson’s anus.

What was soon to prove to be Matheson’s well-trained, anal sphincter quickly yielded to the pressure of what was a evidently a welcome intruder and, with one continuous, smooth thrust, Rufus slid the full length of his well balanced, seven-and-a-half-inch penis into the expectant Matheson’s rectum.  Matheson let out a moan of pleasure as he felt Rufus’s pelvis bottom against his arse. Rufus then began to fuck Matheson’s arse with long and deliberate smooth strokes to the accompaniment of appreciative sounds from the receiver.

He quickly saw that, as he had guessed, Matheson was no stranger to the pleasures of anal sex, for he very quickly added his own contribution to the act in which they were indulging. In fact Rufus very quickly saw that Matheson was, like Tom Swires, a well trained bottom; a guy who, like Tom, really enjoyed being fucked.  It very quickly became apparent to Rufus, from the expert way Matheson controlled his anal sphincter muscles – gripping his cock on each downward thrust and relaxing on the withdrawal – that the head-boy was a highly experienced young stud, who was, in his own way, as experienced as was Rufus himself, in getting the absolute maximum of pleasure from the forbidden act of buggery that they were committing together.

Realising that he had quite inadvertently found himself fucking not only a handsome young stud, who clearly knew which end was up when it came to anal sex, Rufus nevertheless resolved to give the lad what he hoped would be the greatest experience of his sex life to date. And so, in the same deliberative, unhurried way that he had used  a few minutes when beating the his arse, he set himself the challenge of taking Matheson to that sublime state of nirvana  by fucking the arse he had just beaten until it reached orgasm. 

As he became completely possessed by the magic of the act of copulation, he made each successive stroke of his cock ever longer and more forceful by gradually withdrawing himself further and further each time from his anus, until the moment when he sensed that Matheson was on the edge of orgasm, he then withdrew himself completely and remained with his cock, now ready to explode in a tsunami of semen, above Matheson’s anus, before plunging his full length with one almighty thrust, back inside of his rectum. Matheson exerted his tightest sphincter grip yet on Rufus’s cock in that final thrust, on which they both experienced that most exquisite of all sexual feelings: the male orgasm.

They were both young men and like all young men their respective orgasms were accompanied by enormous emissions of semen.  Rufus remained for about five minutes with his cock still deep inside of the head-boy as they both drew breath in the pause after the tremendous effort they had both expended.  Rufus found himself reflecting on the energy needed to take the sex act to orgasm. But the end result was worth it; after all, if one did not take the act through to its conclusion, what was the point? 

But like men, since the beginning of time, the prospect of those few brief moments accompanied by indescribably wonderful feeling which we call orgasm, which accompanies man’s emission of his seed, has proved itself be the greatest and most constant driving force of all time. “Thank goodness,” thought Rufus, “That for some reason, man alone among all other living creatures has discovered that the act which is the source of all new life, is also the source of life’s greatest pleasure.” 

Rufus definitely did not subscribe to the theory that the act should be reserved for procreation. My God, what would men of his – and probably also the head-boy’s – sexual persuasion do if they followed the benighted law of the land and abstained from sexual intercourse with other men?  Without anal sex – the act of sodomy – for the likes of them, life would hardly be worth living.

While such philosophical thoughts were rushing around in Rufus’s

head, he was suddenly brought back to earth a Mathesone said: “Do you think sir, that I might be allowed to get up from this bloody uncomfortable position over this chair sir. There must be other more comfortable positions for one man to fuck another man’s arse than with one of them stretched half naked over Victorian beating chair.”

“But, sir, I just wanted to say to you that not only have I enjoyed having sex with you, sir. But I also wanted to repeat how much I admire your technique with the cane and the vigour with which you dispense justice and retribution, sir. It’s exactly what York House desperately needs, sir, as I am sure the Headmaster has told you.  As head-boy along with my co-prefects, we all feel that the boys of York House are allowed to get away with murder at present. They really are letting the school down very badly, sir.”

“But if you will forgive my directness, which I feel is justified in the light of what we have just done together; I have to add, sir, that you are also a master craftsman with the other, more personal rod, sir, if  I may say so, sir. And I am not saying that just to please you, but it is the truth about the way I feel. What you just did to me – and I should perhaps add, for me – was easily the most exhilarating and satisfying sexual experience of my life to date. And I don’t want to boast, sir, but I do have a certain amount of experience of the forbidden act of sodomy, sir.  With we just did together was great sex for me, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.”

“Sir, I have never ever before today, been taken right through to orgasm by any of my previous sex partners in the way you just did, sir.  You took me right through to the climax, sir. And let me let me just add it was the greatest orgasm I have ever had, sir.  It was ten times better than what I normally achieve by jerking off to complete what I now recognise are usually mediocre fucks. Sir, you are such an impressive person, and I only wish I could be around next year when you are on the staff here. But, by then, I shall be gone and up at Oxford reading law.”

Now Rufus Rothery, like most men, whether they admit it or not, was not insensible to the praise which Matheson was heaping upon him. And as they had time still at their disposal before eight when the Headmaster’s dinner awaited them, in a mental concatenation of aphorisms, he decided to throw caution to the winds and make hay whilst the sun was still shining.  Then correctly reasoning that if push came to shove, he might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb, he took the head-boy by the hand, thrust him down across the desk with his buttocks as close the to the edge as possible. 

He then told Matheson to bend his knees and place his bare feet on the desk as close to the edge as possible, before lifting the young man’s legs over his shoulders and proceeding to shaft him again in what passed for the mission position.  Holding Matheson’s legs firmly against his chest, Rufus then shafted him for the second time that evening and proceeded to give him the hardest fuck of his life. When he finally brought the head-boy to his second climax, which with his customary skill he synchronised with his own orgasms, the two of them were wracked with the uncontrollable, emotional jerks which always accompany any successful sex act.

After a pause, the head-boy suggested that it was time they cleaned themselves up and made themselves presentable for dinner with the Headmaster. But, in the event, the dinner with the Headmaster was not the end of the liaison between Rufus and Matheson. That night in his bed, as he thought over the amazing events of that day: the unexpected offer of the job, his beating of Milson and his subsequent – let us call it – adventure  with the head-boy,  the bed-clothes were lifted and the muscular, naked body of Matheson was suddenly lying beside him.

“Sir, I hope it is all right, sir.  But you see sir,  I thought that sleeping in a strange bed in a strange place you might fee rather lonely, so sir, I thought that  might keep you company for at least part of the night, sir, But if you don’t want me in bed with you, sir, then I can leave right now.” 

Rufus laughed: “Matheson, you are totally incorrigible and your desire for sex is insatiable.  By rights, for your impudence young man, I should beat your arse or at least send you packing with a flea in your ear. But now that you are here, you may as well stay.”  Rufus had, of course, no intention of kicking the head-boy out of his bed, as he himself was, as ever, as ready for sex as was obviously Matheson. And with that, Rufus tore off his own pyjamas and the two of them, both stark-naked, spent the next two hours copulating, during which  Rufus again schooled the eager Matheson in the fine point of anal sex. 

When, with fulsome thanks, Matheson finally left to go back to his own room, it was nearly three in the morning.  They made what were to be their final good-bys as Matheson left Rufus’s bed and the two of them never saw each other again from that moment onwards.  Rufus sighed mentally with relief, that the head-boy would be gone from Rigby by the time he took up his teaching post next term.

And much as he had enjoyed his fling with Matheson, he was relieved that the young man would no longer be around the following term. With the best will in the world, Rufus knew that if temptation in the form of Edward Matheson had still been around next term, he would have found it very, very difficult – no, not difficult, but impossible – to  to resist the sexual attraction which existed between the two of them.  And that, as a master-schoolboy relationship, could have led to disaster. So it was as well that the two were never ever to meet again.

CHAPTER 28

Next day, after settling his employment terms with the bursar and with his signed contract in his pocket he took the train back to Kendal and St. Olaf’s. To his credit, he had strong feelings of remorse for what he had done with Edward Matheson. It was not the he had not enjoyed having sex with this gorgeous young stud, for he undoubtedly had. But he was suddenly seized with that feeling of mea culpa: the acknowledgment to himself that in fucking Edward Matheson, he had cheated on his permanent lover, Tom Swires.  And the more he thought about his actions, alone as he found himself in the railway carriage, the worse he felt

How could he have allowed himself to be seduced by Edward Matheson, when he knew that Tom Swires was waiting for him when he got back: Tom Swires, his regular lover, who had already expressed himself willing to throw up his job in Kendal and follow Rufus to his new post anywhere in the country.  He must have been mad to betray Tom in the way he had done.  But what was done was done and could not be undone and as the long train journey progressed, the worse it became. He simply could not chase the thought of what he had done from his head. By the time he got back to St. Olaf’s, he knew he could not live with his guilty secret and that he had to tell Tom what he had done and face the reaction.

 As a classicist he was familiar with the expression; Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. In fact he turned over in his mind the full quotation from Congreve: Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned. He wondered in his present case, which did not involve the female sex but just two buggers, if Tom, who had been tantamount to being scorned, would react to his admission of guilt in the way predicted in the quotation.  The fact that Rufus simply could not live with his guilt, had forced him to admit to himself how he felt about Tom. Would this be the end of their relationship? 

He saw Tom in the evening the day after he had arrived back bearing the good news about his new post.  Having announced to Tom that his future – their future together – was secure, he hesitated, wondering how he could begin to divulge he sad tale of his lapse into faithlessness.

Tom Swires, wasa highly intelligent, sensible and very observant young man and saw immediately that something was troubling Rufus. “So come on, Rufus, out with it; what’s up? You have something on your mind, so just let it out.”

“Tom, I don’t know where to begin or how to tell you what I have done. It is just so bad that it might ruin our relationship. But I cannot live with it and I just have to tell you and hope that you will forgive me.” In uttering these words, Rufus had already acknowledged to himself and also to Tom that he considered their relationship precious. But it was only now, when he was on the point of unburdening himself to his lover that he suddenly realised just how much Tom meant to him.

“Oh,” said Tom, “I think I understand. You got yourself into a sexual tangle with one of the staff at your new school. That’s it, isn’t’ it?”

“Well Tom, as ever you hit the nail on the head – well, at least sort of.  I did get myself sexually involved with someone but it was not a member of the staff, but the head-boy of the school. I stupidly allowed myself to be seduced by a nineteen year-old young man who was still a pupil at the school.”

 “So what did you two do together? Come on Rufus, out with it, let’s hear the whole story.”

“Well, Edward Matheson – that’s his name – is the head-boy and when I was with the Headmaster, he arrived, unannounced ….” And then, bit-by-bit, the full details of everything that had happened came out.

Tom listened in silence whilst Rufus unburdened himself and made what in legal terms would be called a full confession. But Rufus was not at the bar in a court of justice, but alone with his lover, who now played the role of his father confessor. 

“OK. Rufus; so you strayed from the straight and narrow; were not able to resist the temptation from an attractive young stud; so you had a little sexual fling. Come on, Rufus, snap out of it; it’s not the end of the world and could happen to anyone – and often does I might add.”

“But I really do hate myself for what I did and I could not go on without telling you. But you know what makes matters worse?  Well I’m ashamed to say actually enjoyed what I did with Edward Matheson. I really did enjoy fucking him.”

“Well Rufus, in case you did not know it, Queen Anne’s dead.  It would have been a pity if you had not enjoyed shafting your one-night stand.  I know I would have, if it had been me straying from the fold. Sex is an enjoyable business, which is, I suppose, why we wallow in its tender embrace so often.  Ask yourself whether you would have told me if you had not enjoyed it.  It is that very fact that you know you did that makes you feel so guilty.”

“But did you ever think what I might be doing whilst you were gallivanting around the countryside in search of a job? Did it never cross you mind that footloose and fancy-free I might be down at the Cumbria looking over the talent? I’d had plenty of one-nighters whom I’d picked up at the Cumbria before I met you there. In fact the Cumbria was my prime hunting ground for casual sex. Remember also, Rufus that it was I who picked you up that night at the Cumbria and not the other way round.”

 “So now that you have told me about your little peccadillo, am I going to break with you?  Of course not!  Rufus, for me you have been the best thing in my life from that very first time together. So if you think I’m going to throw you over because of one lapse on your part, you can think again, my friend.  In case you are too dim to see it, you and I were made for one another. That evening at the Cumbria when we first met and I gave you the glad eye, I knew from that very moment that you were the real thing and that I had finally found what I had been looking for. You, Rufus, are what I had always been wanting for but had never found until then. And, if you don’t see that, then you are blind.  We are just meant to be together.”

“So stop looking as if you are about to be hanged; get your clothes off and let’s get down to business as usual.  You haven’t fucked me for four days, and I’m already suffering badly from withdrawal symptoms. So get that magnificent dick of yours out and let’s get started as I just so desperately need you to fuck me. Come on man, jump to it, otherwise I might be minded to beat your arse rather than you beating mine. And I know that although you love administering pain, even to me, your lover, you don’t like the bite of the cane across our own arse one tiny bit.  So, unless you want to leave here with your own backside roasted, you’d better do as I say, get down to it and make amends to me right away, if not sooner.”

Rufus felt a wave of relief coursing through his body. Tom was willing to forgive him for his lapse of judgment with Edward Matheson. Had Tom told him that their relationship was over, Rufus had no idea what he would have done.  But the fact that he had strayed from the straight and narrow path of faithfulness to his partner and had been forgiven, suddenly brought home to him just how much he valued Tom.  To break with him was unthinkable.  So he now renewed his commitment to Tom Swires by giving the young man the first of what was to be a series of definitive, orgasmic fucks, before he left him in a state of utter nirvana and returned to St. Olaf’s and his own bed.

CHAPTER 29

The rest of that last term for Rufus at St. Olaf’s passed smoothly and uneventfully. True to his word, Tom Swires, whom Rufus now realised, was his life’s partner, resigned from his building job at Ellis and Son and immediately after the end of the summer term, Rufus and he moved to Ditchfeild. Rufus, who was quite wealthy in his own right, having benefitted from a large legacy from his maternal grandmother, rented a small, furnished cottage where he and Tom spent an idyllic two months together before the start of the new school year at Rigby in September.

Those two months when Rufus and Tom more or less lived, slept and, of course, copulated together like rabbits, were tantamount to a honeymoon for the two of them. Rufus’s peccadillo with the head-boy, Edward Matheson, was long forgotten. By the time term began, Rufus and Tom were a totally inseparable item, even though Rufus lived in York House and Tom in the cottage.

As Tom had predicted, he had no difficulty at all in obtaining gainful employment in the building trade, where he joined and, due to his obvious superiority as a tradesman, rapidly progressed to become the foreman bricklayer at the local builder, Jackson and Stocks.

Rufus had his work cut out to sort out the longstanding problems of York House, of which he was now housemaster.  Luckily for him, his Headmaster, Dr. Wilton-Smith, was as fond of the cane and administering corporal punishment to his charges as was Rufus. By way of emphasising his commitment to the beneficial effect of the application of the cane to the bare backsides of the boys, the Headmaster presented Rufus with a set of two junior and two senior, straight-handled rattan canes.

These Rufus found waiting for him in on the desk in his study, on the day before the official start of the new school year, accompanied by a handwritten note from the Headmaster which read:

Dear Rothery,

You will have your work cut-out to bring York House back from the lassitudinous state of indifference into which it has, alas been allowed to slip over the past recent years.  However, having seen, during your last visit to Rigby, the excellent way you dealt with Milson minor, now one of the boys in your charge in York House, I am sure that yours is the firm hand to improve matters. 

 So, I thought that by way of a helping-hand, I would present you with his new set of four rattan canes, which I am sure you will find useful – indeed indispensible – in carrying out the reforms necessary to set York House to rights again. I can but say to you that holding firm to the rules is the backbone of running a successful school. So I urge you to have no hesitation whatsoever in disciplining the boys in your charge whenever you feel it is needed.

Sending a boy to bed with a well-beaten bottom is a very effective way of bringing home to him the fruits of bad behaviour. So, Rothery, do not hesitate to beat the boys of York House if they deserve it. You have my fullest support.

And by way of introducing you to the ways of the school, I would be delighted if you would join me for dinner this evening: 7:30 for 8:00  – black tie,  when I will introduce you to your senior colleagues and take you through the mechanics of the way this place is run on a daily basis. 

Kind Regards

C. E. W. Wilton-Smith

To say that the dinner was sumptuous was an understatement. Both the butler, Bates and a liveried footman were on duty in the dining room to serve the Headmaster and his guests. That the headmaster was clearly a figure of authority was evident by the deference which even the older masters present showed him.  Once the dinner was over, the Headmaster motioned to Rufus. They left the other guests, smoking and sipping port and madeira at the table and retired to the Headmaster’s study, where Bates served coffee and a decanter of port and two glasses were placed on a small table.

“I thought, Rothery that as this was the beginning of your tenure at Rigby, it would be useful if I outline for you how this school functions. Rigby is a largish school with about 480 boys, all boarders, split across six houses, of one of which, York House you are now housemaster. Now it is my view that each housemaster should be free to run his house as he sees fit, without any interference from.  However, I would emphasize, that Rigby is an old-fashioned school where rules are made to be obeyed by the boys, who can expect, and indeed experience, painful retribution, if they break them.  In brief, Rothery, as you have doubtless already realised, Rigby is a school where, under my direction, the cane reigns supreme.”

“Now, I was extremely impressed by the way you dealt with that growing thorn-in-the-flesh, Milson minor, when you came here for your interview. And I am certain, having seen you in action, that you have not only the right attitude, but also the will and conviction to put York House back on its feet.”

“It is, of course, entirely up to you how you handle discipline in your new post as housemaster, but my advice to you can be summed up in the old saying: He who hesitates is lost. Don’t let the grass grow under your feet, Rothery. The boys of York House have been allowed too much leeway for the past few years and need to be brought back into the real world. So don’t hesitate to whack any boy for the slightest of misdeeds. It is the only way you will establish your authority in your house, given its present run-down mentality. Frankly, Rothery, I hate to say this, but what York House needs is a reign of terror and I am afraid it falls to you as housemaster, to play the role of a latter day Robespierre.”

“However, as I said, I shall that leave entirely up to you. You must do as you best feel fit and you will have no interference at all from me, However York House is not the entire school, which I have to run and so I thought it would be helpful if I outlined how discipline is maintained during the day at Rigby.”

“First let me say that, here at Rigby, we have a well structured approach to enforcing the school rules, both in the class room and when the boys are not in class.  I have left for you in your study, a copy of the Rigby School Rule book which details the way boys – all boys; from the first form through to the upper sixth – are expected to behave.  Boys, who break any rule whatsoever, know that they will be punished for their misdemeanour; and, moreover, they all know that the only punishment here at Rigby is a beating. So, Rothery, independently of how you deal with the boys of York House, the cane, and to a lesser extent, the birch are both in good health at Rigby and are in regular use throughout the school.”

“Now, the attitudes of my staff towards the use of the cane vary considerably, and there are certain masters who are rather squeamish when it come the the actual act of beating a boy on his bare bottom.  Oh, by the way, in case I had forgotten to mention it, all beatings here at Rigby are given on the bare. Anyway, to avoid problems, no boy is ever beaten in class, but is sent to me to be dealt with directly. And so, we have a system of punishment notes here at Rigby.”

“Any master, who feels that a boy in his class deserves to be beaten for some offence or other, writes out a note, which the boy in question puts into a box outside of my secretary’s office.  She then prepares a list of boys who have to present themselves to me in my study at eight thirty that same evening. The daily punishment list, if there are candidates for the cane that day, is posted on the main notice board at five thirty each evening. I can tell you, Rothery that this system is extremely effective, and boys dread seeing their name appear on my daily list as I have, over the years, developed quite a reputation for being a truly hard caner. So here at Rigby, a Headmaster’s beating is an event which most boys wish to avoid.”

“Then at the fatidic hour of eight-thirty, any boy, unfortunate enough to find his name on my list, presents himself – appropriately attired – at my study, where I undertake the unenviable task of teaching the young offender a severe and painful lesson by beating him on his bare bottom. Oh, and just in case you are wondering  what the appropriate attire for such occasions is, all boys are expected to change into their gym-shorts and gym vests and wear their bedroom slippers when they present themselves to me. Rigby has adopted this form of dress for boys about to be beaten, as it greatly facilitates gaining access to that vitally important part of a boy’s anatomy, to wit, his bare bottom, to which the cane will be applied.”

“Headmaster, if I may just interject; we did exactly the same at St. Olaf’s.  Boys were made to change into gym-shorts when they reported for a beating. I have to agree with you that it is a much more efficient way to deal with what is an unpleasant, (I was lying through my teeth, of course, when I said that,  as I always enjoy skinning a lad’s naked arse with a good, whippy rattan-cane) but very necessary task.”

“Well, Rothery I gather the procedure has also been quite widely adopted. among our sister public schools, as it does away with the rather tedious and embarrassing task for the unfortunate beneficiary on such occasion, of removing a cumbersome school uniform and then putting it back on again a few minutes later. I cannot myself lay claim to the the idea. That distinction has to go to the now retired Headmaster of Churton School, over near Hereford on the Welsh border.”

“On his retirement, he wrote an article in an old issue of The Public Schoolmaster monthly magazine about the advantages of adopting his idea of making the boys, who were to be punished, change into their gym-shorts, which he graced with the name, Appropriate Attire, which has since stuck. I have to say, in sharing his idea with us, his colleagues in other schools, he rendered us a great service and made our lives so much easier in the face of a perennially distasteful, but nevertheless indispensible task.”

“Headmaster, I couldn’t agree with you more. It is such an obvious idea that we must ask ourselves why did did we not think of it?  But what if at Rigby, a master decides that a boy is so out of hand in class that he should be punished more or less immediately. As you have said that there is no use of the cane in the classrooms at Rigby, what happens in such a case?”

“My dear Rothery, canes are forbidden in the classroom because some of our progressive colleagues (he made the words sound like a terminal disease) disapprove of beating boys under any circumstances. And I also do not approve personally of a boy being punished in front of all of his classmates. But there is no objection at all to your giving a boy an immediate beating, more or less on the spot, if you feel he deserves it.”

“A few members of my more traditionally-minded staff, those who are made of sterner stuff and believe wholeheartedly in the benefits – to  the boy, of course – of a good, old-fashioned beating, march such lads straight- off to the gymnasium in the main school and thrash them there. In fact, Rothery, a good selection of canes is kept in the cupboard in the gym for that express purpose. So if needs must, all is to hand to enable a master to supply an offending lad with a well-beaten backside, more or less immediately. Feel free to use the facilities of the gym whenever you see the need.”

“But first let me finish my verbal tour of the facilities we have to hand at Rigby to ensure that boys always meet their just deserts. In addition to the house-prefects, who are appointed by each housemaster individually, the school has, like most public schools, a well-developed system of prefects, who during the day are charged with the task of keeping their schoolmates in order. Prefects, under the direction of the head-boy, are authorised to beat any and all of their schoolmates although I personally often find myself dealing with the odd sixth-former who requires to be reminded that, in spite of his age, he is still a pupil at the school and, as such, has to toe the line when it comes to the school rules.”

“But here at Rigby, we practise the two-tier prefect system, composed of junior prefects, boys in their penultimate year in the lower sixth, and the senior prefects, all of whom are in the upper sixth.  This was an innovation of my predecessor, which I believe has also been adopted by several other public schools in the north of England.  So the first and second formers are under the watchful eye of the junior prefects, who are only allowed to give a maximum of six strokes – on the bare, of course – with the junior cane to any offender, of which I might add there always seem to be an abundance.”

“I have to say, Rothery, that I never cease to be amazed at the capacity of the younger boys to get themselves into scrapes, in spite of the fact of a painful penalty if caught.  But the threat of an encounter with the cane does not seem to deter them from breaking the rules and most lads in the first form seem to find that they have had their first beating by the end of their first term.”

“In the their final year, provided that they have behaved themselves and not blotted their own copy-books, the junior  prefects become seniors in their final year. And it is these senior boys together, who make up what I suppose is equivalent to the police-force at Rigby. It is their watchful eye which ensures, out of class, that order is maintained.  The senior prefects play the role of police, judge, jury and executioner when it comes to disciplining their schoolmate”

“They have the right, of which they regularly – too regularly some boys would say – avail themselves, to beat any of their schoolmates of whatever age, if they feel it necessary. They are limited to a maximum of twelve cuts with both the junior and senior canes. But I am sure I don’t have to tell you that any muscular, young man, which all the senior prefects in fact, are, is quite capable of giving any offender a well-beaten backside with twelve well-placed cuts with a rattan-cane on the bare. The prefects, with the sole exception of the head-boy, who performs his duties in his own study, carry out their punishment sin the school library, which they clear of users when a beating takes place.”

“And now I come to the key role played the head-boy at Rigby. This is the most prestigious of all positions open to pupils of the school.  The head-boy is still a student in his final year, usually with an offer from one of the Oxford or Cambridge colleges for his future university education. However, his position in the school is one of authority almost equivalent to that of a housemaster.  On his nomination to the post, he renounces his affiliation to his old house and moves into a small suite of rooms comprising a study, a bathroom and a bedroom in the main school building,”

“In terms of disciplining his schoolmates in their free time, his authority is absolute.  He is authorised to beat any or all of his schoolmates and is allowed to give up to a maximum of eighteen strokes on the bare to any boy for any one offence.”

“His greatest exercise of his authority is in dealing with the question of boys with demerits. Here at Rigby, every boy is provided each year a small demerit diary, usually referred to as his DD, in which masters and all prefects alike, can award the owner with one or more demerit marks. Demerit marks are cumulative and are awarded to boys for misdeeds which, taken individually, are not serious enough to justify an immediate thrashing. But those boys, who are repeat small offenders, rapidly collect ten demerit marks, at which stage they know that they will inevitably suffer a beating on the bare.”

“Now here at Rigby, we aim to make boys take responsibility for their own actions and so the demerit system is run on on an honour basis.  Boys are each acutely aware of their demerit status as they each carry around with themselves their own DD the whole time. Once the fatidic total of ten demerits has been reached, then the unfortunate owner knows that there are no ifs and buts and that he will get six strokes on his bare bottom for his accumulated sins.”

“Now this, Rothery, is where the unique Rugby honour code comes into play.  The day a boy knows he has accumulated ten demerits,  he know he is duty bound, that very evening at eight-thirty, appropriately attired, to present himself and his DD to the head-boy for punishment. The head-boy asks no questions as this is a mandatory act: a duty he must carry out. So down come the lad’s gym-shorts, across the back of a chair he goes and the head-boy give him six stingers on the bare.”

“Of course there are some boys who accumulate demerits at an alarming rate. And so to discourage first-time DD offenders from repeating their offences, a steeply progressive penalty is in place for subsequent offences. For a first DD beating the offender suffers six cuts; but this but is increased to nine for a second and twelve for a third meeting with the head-boy. And if you can believe it, just last term, one boy, a fifth former, Andrew Lodge, who happens to be in York House, whose sole aim in life seemed to be the collection of demerits, found himself for the fourth time in front of the head-boy.”

“In fact, Rothery, the head-boy at the time, was Edward Matheson whom you casually know over the Milson minor business, as I am sure you recall. (“If only you really knew how well I got to know Matheson on that occasion,” thought Rufus, “It would make your hair curl.”) Well, Matheson, as you know, was a sensible young man and was appalled by Lodge’s apparent lack of any responsibility; so he brought him straight to me. The head-boy’s study is at the other end of this same corridor, by the way, to where we are now sitting. So Lodge was marched along to me by the head-boy in quick order. And I think I can say that I settled that young man’s hash in a very satisfactory manner.”

“So, Headmaster, what, if I might ask, did you do to the unfortunate Lodge?”

“Good question Rothery. Well I thought, as had Matheson, that enough was enough, that Lodge was a proven serial offender. So I birched him. I gave the lad eighteen cuts with a freshly cut birch on the bare. I think I can say that the lad left my study that evening a changed person. Anyway, Rothery, unfortunately, York House seems to have become the repository for the most disobedient of our boys. So add insult to injury, you will find yourself lumbered also with Gordon Lodge, as he, along with Milson minor, is also a member of York House.  But having seen you in action with the cane on Milson’s backside, I have no doubt at all but that you will be able to cope with the pair of them.”

“Oh, I think that I forgot to mention that the birch is also alive and well and is in regular use, strictly by myself, here at Rigby. The school is fortunate in having large grounds tended by an excellent gardener of the old school, who knows a thing or two about making a birch. Quite a misnomer really, as I gather that the implements with which he regularly supplies me, are made from the new woody shoots of a pollarded Japanese maple.  Anyway, Rothery, let me assure you that whatever the source of the twigs making up the Rigby birch, its application to a deserving pair of bare buttocks, judging from the cries of pain which inevitably seem to accompany its use, indicate that its efficacy is very much appreciated by the recipient.”

“Another glass of port, perhaps, before you leave, Rothery?”

With these words, Rufus understood that the Headmaster’s verbal tour of the manifold flagellation possibilities, which the boys at Rigby enjoyed, was finished.  But he and the Headmaster sat for another ten minutes or so in front of the fire, sipping their final glasses of port, before Rufus finally withdrew and went back to his quarters in York House.

CHAPTER 30

Of course, knowing Rufus as well as we do, there was never any doubt at all but that the cane would play an important role in the future of York House. But that evening with the Headmaster and his obvious approval, if not obsession, with the benefits of regular corporal punishment on his flock, spurred an already cane-happy Rufus to even greater things. By the end of that first term, Rufus would have established his reputation as the hardest and most frequent user of the cane. So Rufus regularly contributed to the inimitable sound of the crack of the cane mating with some lad’s naked backside which was a regular feature of everyday life at Rigby School.

But, as ever, in spite of his severity with the cane, Rufus was not unpopular with the boys he taught, for the other side of his character also played an important role in how he was perceived. Rufus was an excellent teacher of Greek and Latin, two, too-often-seen-as-dry- subjects by the boys, both of which he brought to life in a manner no other teacher ever did.

So we have in Rufus this dichotomy of a homosexual man: a ruthless and regular user of the cane on the bare arses of the boys in his charge, but at the same time a well-liked and brilliant teacher of the classics. And it has to be said, that other than that one lapse with Edward Matheson, Rufus never again allowed the sexual attraction for other men to intrude into his school relationship with boys in his charge. His life as a practising homosexual was confined to Tom Swires and was always practised in strict privacy, outside the school premise.

So with the enthusiastic support of the Headmaster, Rufus’s first act, which he accomplished before the start of the new school year, was to equip the each of the two, eight bed, first, second and third form dormitories with what he called the dormitory canes. The second and third formers, who were not new to York House, were astounded to see that canes were now hanging threateningly at the side of the doors in their sleeping quarters. For the new boys of the first form, the presence of a cane in their two dorms spoke volumes about the instant way in which discipline was enforced at Rigby.  And when the boys went into the York House library, they discovered two sets of canes, one junior and one senior, hanging there behind the door, waiting for their first clients

Of course as soon as the boys arrived back for the start of term, this latest innovation, never before seen at Rigby and at present limited to York House, flashed around the school like greased lightning.Rufus’s shock tactics certainly brought home to the boys in a way which words alone never would have done, of the immediacy of punishment for any misbehaving. The canes told the boys that York House, hitherto a haven of laissez-faire attitudes, would henceforth be run as a tight ship. 

Of course, give the availability of the canes in the dormitories coupled with the state of undress of the boys in the evenings, access to that all-important part of a boys anatomy, his naked backside, was made very easy and punishment for sins committed in the dormitories became frighteningly immediate, as many of the younger boys were soon to find out. No longer would it be necessary for the house-captain or the prefects intent on beating a boy in the dormitory for whatever reason – and reasons, both real and imagined, were in ready supply – to take the miscreant boy back to his study to be beaten. The cane was to hand and retribution was both swift and painful. It was also very dissuasive, as boys were beaten in front of their dorm-mates, who knew that they might one day face the same fate if they did not behave.

From that first day, the older boys in the house were wondering how they would fare under their new housemaster. They soon found out, for at the first house assembly on the very first day of the new term, Rufus made it quite clear to all members of York House that the concepts of discipline and pride in both appearance and achievements, all of which qualities were sadly lacking at present, would henceforth be strictly enforced.

“Let me make it quite clear, boys; all of you, from the first form right through to the upper sixth, will be subject to the same rigorous standards. It is my intention to bring York House back from the indolent, anything-goes attitude which pervades this entire place at present, and make it one of the best run and proudest houses of this school.” 

“From this moment on, discipline and obedience will prevail in this house. The school and house rules – all of them – will be strictly enforced as of now. Those of you, who choose to break them – any of them – will be punished. The cane will, once again, reign supreme in York House and any boy who breaks the rules will find his bare bottom enjoying the painful consequences of the rigour of the cane.  I trust, boys I make myself clear. If so, then then this assembly is dismissed.”

Rufus’s final words were met with a deafening silence as the new facts of life hit home. York House was no longer to be the comfortable, laissez-faire place, where unless a boy broke some serious rule, such as stealing, the cane had been rarely used.  Those happy, lackadaisical days under the old housemaster, Mr. Rawsthorne, were clearly gone and the house was faced with a more rigorous, disciplinary approach to life.

Discontent with the future new regimen was not long in manifesting itself, which it did in the form of an unannounced visit made by the house-captain accompanied by the three house-prefects to see Rufus in his study. The house-captain, Ronald Avery, and the three prefects, David Bentham, Robert Parry and Roger Conway, had been appointed for the coming school year, as was the custom, by Mr. Rawsthorne, prior to his retirement at the end of the previous year. As such Rufus knew as yet these four boys – young men actually – who constituted the house disciplinary team, only by name.

It was around four in the afternoon on the first day of term, the day on which Rufus had made his intentions known the boys of York House at the first general assembly under his housemaster-ship. A knock came at his study door and when he opened it, he found the four, senior members of his house standing there, requesting to see him on what they described as a matter of some urgency, sir. Rufus ushered them into his study, went and sat behind his desk and waited for someone to explain the purpose of the visit.

To say that they were the four senior members of his house, young men in positions of authority, each with a right to beat their fellow housemates, young men who were supposed to set an example to the others, Rufus found himself looking at a group of four dishevelled, badly-dress, young men, whose appearance typified the general ethos of anything will do which permeated York House. Two of them had not even had the courtesy to put on their coats; the house-captain, himself, was wearing a tie which was badly knotted and a shirt whose top button was undone.

All in all, the four of them made a very bad first impression on Rufus, so much so, that unaware of the purpose of their visit, he had already decided that as the four senior members of his flock had shown their contempt for the conventions of polite behaviour that they were all going to be sent away nursing well-beaten arses. This was a God-sent opportunity to show the senior members of his house that what he had said to the whole house at that morning’s assembly was to be taken seriously. Rufus had already decided before anyone of them spoke that he was going to beat all four young men before they left his study.

Totally unaware of the bad impression they had created and of Rufus’s thoughts, Ronald Avery, as house-captain began: “Thank you, sir, for agreeing to see us without an appointment, sir, We have not been formally introduced as yet, sir, but my name is Ronald Avery and I am the house-captain of York House house, appointed at the end of last term by your predecessor, Mr. Rawsthorne, sir. And these three gentlemen are the house-prefects for this year, sir, also similarly appointed last term by Mr. Rawsthorne: David Bentham, Roger Conway, and Robert Parry sir.”

As they were named by the house-captain, each of the three prefects bowed slightly to their new housemaster. 

The formal introductions over, the house-captain continued: “Sir, we felt we had to see you immediately, sir, as we suspect there may have been some misunderstanding about how York House functions, sir. You see, sir, for the past five years, it has never been the custom for the cane to be used on any boy in either the lower or upper sixth, sir.  And moreover, only rarely was the cane ever used on fifth-formers, sir.  And so sir, your announcement at this morning’s meeting, sir, when you said that all boys from first-formers through to the upper sixth would be treated in exactly the same way, came as a shock, sir.”

“So sir, we think perhaps you had not understood how York House is run, sir, and we wonder if you had been fully aware of the traditions of this house when you made your announcement this morning, sir. We your senior boys, see your announcement as throwing out all the traditional values of this house sir. And so, sir, we wonder, in the light of what you now know, if you might wish to reconsider your position sir. Sir, it is unheard of for any sixth former to be beaten in this house sir. Surely you see that, sir.”

Rufus had listened in total silence to this exposition by the house-captain.  It was obvious that his four senior boys did not want anything to change; but if change had to come, then not to their own privileged status. “Thank you, Avery, for your thoughts.  First allow me to correct your choice of the tenses of the verbs you have used in your exposition. You first said how York House functions, before going on to say how York House is run. In fact what you should have said was that that is how York House functioned and was run in the past.  As of today, the house will function and be run in a totally different way.”

“I am afraid that as of now, the ways of Mr. Rawsthorne are history.  If that means breaking with what you define as tradition, then so be it. And if any of you four gentlemen, feel that you cannot perform your prefectural duties under the new rules, then you may resigned your privileged position as prefects and I will appoint others to replace you.  Forget what I suppose what you think of as the good-old-days.”

“The rigours of Rigby, for which this school is nationally famous, will reign henceforth in York House and everyone, including you four gentlemen, will be subject to the rules, all of which will be strictly enforced. The aim of an education at this school is to turn out young gentlemen who can take their place in the upper echelons of society, the civil service, the law and the government of this country. Under my direction York House will do its part in furthering this aim.  I trust I have made my position clear.”

This statement having been met with complete silence, Rufus continued: “I will not hide form you that I think that you four gentlemen have all got off to a bad start. You come to me badly dressed for your first meeting with your new housemaster and then you have the effrontery to start to question the new regimen I have decided to put in place to redress the parlous state in which York House finds itself.  You want nothing to change and the past state of affairs to continue.”

“Well, as I have just told you, the new rules apply to every boy in this house; and that includes the four of you. I think that all four of you need to be taught a sharp lesson which will guide you in your future activities as prefects and key keepers of order in this house. So, Bentham, Conway and Parry, would you kindly withdraw and wait in the corridor until such time as I call you back.  Avery, as house-captain, I will deal with you first, so I would like you to remain.”

The three prefects, all looking very nervous as Rufus had not precisely said what was to happen next, withdrew to wait in the corridor outside of Rufus’s study.  Equally nervous, the house-captain, Ronald Avery, stood trembling in front of his obviously irate housemaster, waiting for his, as yet unknown fate to be announced to him.  He did not have long to wait as Rufus opened the long drawer on his desk behind which he was still sitting, and withdrew one of the pristine, new senior-canes which the Headmaster had just presented to him. He laid the cane on the desk and fixed the now visibly trembling house-captain with an unforgiving eye.

Actions, as ever, spoke louder than words and eyeing the cane in front of him, Ronald Avery knew that his proverbial goose was cooked. He nevertheless made what he must have known was a futile attempt to save himself from the inevitable beating:  “Mr. Rothery, sir, please forgive me if I say that I hope that you are not intending to beat me sir. You see, sir, in this school, or in this house at least, no sixth former has been beaten in the past five or six years. Moreover, sir, I would ask you to remember that I am the house-captain, sir, and as such, second in authority over the other boys only to you yourself as housemaster. So, I don’t think that any house-captain should ever be beaten, sir.  It would set a bad example to the younger boys, sir, and destroy the respect they should have for the position of authority, sir.”

“Avery, the slovenly way in which you and your three co-prefects dress and present yourselves and the general laissez-faire attitude which you would clearly like to perpetuate, sets a much worse example to the boys than any beating of the their house-captain  and the house-prefects might ever do.  Now Avery, I do not in any way accuse you and the other prefects of creating the sad state in which this house finds itself today. You are all unfortunate legatees of a situation which has been allowed to develop over the past several years. And as that situation leads to a comfortable life for everyone, yourselves included, you naturally, do not wish it to be changed.”

“Change, Avery, is something which no one ever welcomes. But change is what York House desperately needs. In spite of your clear resistance to it and love of the status quo, change, young man, is what, is what is coming.  Apart from the bad manners displayed by all four of you in coming to see me badly dressed and then challenging my decisions, your resistance to the inevitable indicates to me quite clearly that your attitude needs to be changed. In a word, Avery, the four of you have got the wrong attitude to the job for which you were appointed by my predecessor.”

“Now I do not wish to question the wisdom of my predecessor in naming the four of you as prefects of York House. And I have no immediate intention of withdrawing the privileges that your elevated status has given you, as you have not yet had time to exercise the authority and actions which your positions as prefects confers upon you. However, I should be remiss in my duties as your housemaster if I were to allow your flagrant bad manners in dress and the questioning of the new way in which, as of right now, things in this house will be done, to pass unsanctioned.”

“Your scruffy appearance alone, Avery, in itself merits a sound beating. However, much more important is your general attitude; all four of you have the wrong attitude at present to allow you to exercise the authority in this house that goes with your position. You are meant to be setting a good example to the younger boys York House, when you are doing just the opposite.”

“So, Avery, kindly take off your coat, your shoes, trousers and lower underwear and present your bare bottom for me for correction with the cane by bending across the back of the beating stool.”

Like the Headmaster’s study, the studies of each housemaster at Rigby were equipped with the same purpose-built, Victorian punishment chair, with a heavily padded, adjustable-height cross-rail. And it was to the padded back of this chair towards which Rufus motioned the unfortunate Avery.

Avery had still not made any move to remove his clothing for his beating and stood there, tremblingly transfixed by fear, as the full impact of what he had been told to do suddenly hit him. He, the house-captain, on his very first day in office, had been told to bare his arse and present it to his housemaster for a beating. Such an indignity was unthinkable! And for the past few years, such an event had been unheard of. But that was precisely what Avery, house-captain of York House or not, was about to suffer.

“Sir, I really feel I must protest, sir. It is totally undignified for any house-captain to be beaten by his housemaster, sir.”

“Avery, you boy, are still, standing there ignoring my direct order to prepare yourself for a beating.  You have not yet made the slightest move to take of your lower clothing and bare your bottom for that event. In the light of your disobedience, allow be to tell you, young man, that when I give an order to a boy in my charge, even to a senior boy, even to my house-captain, then I expect it to be obeyed. In view of your recalcitrance, Avery, you have just earned yourself a supplementary three cuts of the cane.”

“Now, unless you wish me to increase your punishment still further, I suggest you do as have told you immediately – if not quicker. Come on, boy, move yourself and let me see your bare backside across the back of the chair in the next fifteen seconds, unless you wish to have all the skin taken off your bottom. And do not delude yourself, Avery. I am an expert with the cane, as you are about to find out. And young man, believe me as I mean what I say.”

But the unfortunate Avery was still not ready to give up totally, as he said: “Sir, I think it would be most undignified for me, as house-captain to be made to present my bare bottom to you for punishment. So, sir, could I please, at least, be permitted to keep on my underpants, sir?”

“Avery, what is it that I have just told you to do which is unclear? What is it, boy that you have not understood? All beatings at this school are traditionally given on the bare. Now, house-captain or not, I have told you to present your bare bottom to me for correction. What, boy, is unclear about that? You, Avery, have a strong, argumentative streak, which I find increasingly annoying.  Now, for the last time, boy, get your clothes off and bend across the chair when I shall give myself the pleasure of re-introducing your backside, to the doubtful joy of a well-applied rattan rod.  Jump to it boy. I’m waiting!”

Avery finally realised that the game was lost, reluctantly shed his clothed and presented Rufus with the well developed, muscular backside of a seasoned rugger player. As Rufus observed, Avery’s arse looked virgin from the point of view of the cane. Rufus assumed. that like most public school boys, Avery had, sometime in the past, had his arse beaten, either by a master or a prefect, but but given the  past state of affairs in York House, Avery’s arse and the cane appeared not to have been on speaking terms for a good while. Well, that was now about to change with a vengeance.

Avery had so annoyed Rufus that he decided to give the lad, house-captain or not, a hiding to remember. “Avery, in view of your obstinacy and objections, I have decided that you really need to be brought down to earth from the celestial heights in which you seem to think you are floating.  I had planned to give you nine cuts, but in view of your argumentative nature, I have decided that your backside deserves the rigour of a twelve stroke beating. Now Avery, you will thank me for each stroke as you receive it and then ask me to give you another. Is that clear, boy?”

Rufus picked up the cane from his desk, went across to where Avery’s arse was waiting for its attention, laid it across the midpoint of the boy’s two lusciously inviting buns, before bringing it down with that inimitable crack of rattan mating with naked flesh. To Rufus, the crack of the cane was like music to his ears. Alas to Avery, the crack defined that horribly moment of truth when the cane transfers its kinetic energy into the form of a searingly painful cut across the full width of the recipient’s backside.

For that brief moment following the crack, Avery felt nothing. But then the full effect of the first of the twelve promised strokes manifested itself fully.  It was as if someone had laid a re-hot poker across his bare flesh. It was unbearably painful, but he knew it was a pain he would have to bear eleven times more before it was over and his sins had been purged.  So great was the searing pain of that first cut that Avery had difficulty in expressing his thanks to his housemaster and asking him to continue. But knowing he could not escape any detail of the process, he finally said: “Thank you, sir, for correcting me. Please, sir, give me another.”

What Rufus had not told Avery, other than that he was to get a twelve cut beating, was that he intended to make it as painful as possible for the lad. Usually Rufus prided himself on his ability to place twelve cuts, the one parallel to the next, from the top to bottom of his victim’s arse.  Painful though that type of beating might be, the intensity of the pain delivered is not to be compared with that of a stroke-on-stroke beating; that is to say, a beating where the cane lands repeatedly on the same place.  So Rufus now went ahead and gave Avery the excruciatingly painful experience of taking three, overlaid cuts across the midpoint of his two globes.

Avery, not surprisingly, screamed at the intensity of the pain which was delivered.  Rufus then did the same three more times in different positions across Avery’s buns.  By the time he had finished and the twelve strokes had been delivered, the unfortunate Avery, now in complete agony, was weeping profusely. His arse displayed four, livid furrows, each of which had been created by three overlaid strokes of the cane. If ever an exemplary lesson had been taught and learned, this had to be it.

“Avery, you took that very well.  You may now get up and put back on your clothes and go and wait with your three co-prefects in the corridor.”

“Please, sir, my bottom is so very painful, I don’t think I can bear to put my trousers back on, sir. So, sir, might I be permitted, to go back to my study just as I am sir, as the pain is just so great sir.”

“Avery, you have to learn that when I give you an order it is not a matter for negotiation. I have just told you what to do and I now expect you to do it. You have to learn to accept that decorum, even in adversity, is important. So, I repeat; get properly dressed and go and wait with your co-prefects in the corridor until I tell you otherwise.”

Avery reluctantly did manage to put back on his clothes. In utter agony after what had been a very severe beating, he wanted nothing more than to escape and massage his flaming backside in an attempt to palliate the pain he was feeling. But it was not to be. Rufus was quite firm. Avery was made to stand and wait with the other three lads in the corridor.

But whilst Rufus had been dealing with Avery and blistering his arse, what of the other three house-prefects waiting in the corridor? Well Rufus’s remarks had put the fear of God into the three of them.  Bentham, Conway and Parry stood trembling in the corridor, straining to hear through the closed door, what was happening to Avery inside the housemaster’s study.  After what seemed an age, when all they could hear was the faint sound of Rufus’s voice as he droned on to Avery, there were a few moments of absolute silence and then that first crack of the cane mating with Avery’s arse was heard quite clearly through the closed door.

By this stage the three boys awaiting their own fate, knew that their backsides too were to be roasted. And as stroke followed steady stroke, the tension and fear which the three were experiencing built up and up, until after the twelfth stroke, to put it crudely, in the language of today, the three of them were practically shitting bricks. And to make things worse, the ever-louder screams of pain emitted by Avery did nothing to reassure them.  Like any boy – and there must have been thousands in the public school system – who had been made to wait outside a master’s study listening, through the closed door to the cane descend on the bare backside of one of his classmates, the wait seemed almost as bad as the bite of the cane itself.

A tearful Avery eventually emerged from Rufus’s study and joined his three housemates in the corridor. Then ensued a long wait, during which, unbeknown to the four of them, Rufus betook himself to his bathroom, dropped his own trousers and relieved his own sexual tension, which had built up to concert pitch by the act of beating his house-captain.  As he massaged his rock-hard cock to an orgasmic climax with its customary huge emission of sperm, he knew he had been particularly severe with Avery. Although he was a devotee of the cane, only rarely did he use the overlay technique. And he knew that in endowing Avery’s arse with four, three-cut overlay stripes that the lad would be in utter agony for hours to come.

It was unusual for a boy who has just been beaten to be told to wait in the corridor with his housemates who were waiting to be called in to meet their painful doom. But nothing about the present occasion was usual. The four house-prefects had not expected to be beaten by their housemaster. Indeed quite to the contrary. They had come to see him to protest against his new house-rules and to tell him that sixth formers were never beaten in York House. It had, therefore, been a nasty shock for them to find that not only would sixth formers be beaten for their misdeeds in future, but that they too, the most privileged boys in the house, the crème de la crème of the of sixth form, were to be the first to submit to the very punishment which they had been intent on eliminating.

Needless to say the three prefects were shocked to see the state in which the house-captain emerged from his ordeal, for an ordeal is exactly what Avery had just experienced. But as he was forced to wait with them in the corridor and not to be allowed to go back to his study immediately, as was generally the custom, to nurse his war-wounds, they insisted that he drop his pants and show them the damage. 

When they saw the four livid stripes, across Avery’s arse, with  traces of broken skin and the odd spot of blood, the fear of what was to come, which had been building up gradually as they had followed, stroke by stroke, Avery’s beating across the closed door, now turned to blind panic.  Rufus’s efforts on Avery went way beyond the well-beaten-arse concept; he had made mince-meat of the lad’s buttocks and the three prefects now feared that he would do the same for them.

As the three prefects were – unwisely as it happened – examining the strips across Avery’s arse in the corridor, they were observed by a fourth former, who happened to be passing. So the alarming news flashed around the housed that the new housemaster was in the process of beating the house-captain and the three house-prefects. More or less at the same time, Rufus, by then having finished relieving his sexual tensions, himself opened the door to call in his next victim.

Seeing the three prefects examining the damage he had wreaked on Avery’s arse, he said:  “Avery, what on earth are you doing allowing your friends to inspect your anatomy in a public corridor? Have you no common sense boy? In polite society, one does not show of one’s bare bottom to one’s friends in public. I really wonder if you have learned a lesson and if you do not deserve a further taste of the cane. Anyway, Bentham, you’re next, so get yourself in here boy and I will endeavour to embellish your posterior so that it compares with that of Avery.  I would hate you to think that I was indulging in favouritism in my treatment of the house-captain.”

Listening to these ominous words, all three boys blanched visibly.  Conway then said: “Sir, we have been talking things over whilst we have been waiting sir. So if it’s alright by you, sir, we three prefects would prefer to be caned together sir. So if you agree, sir, could we all come into your study together sir? You see, sir standing waiting in the corridor, listening to what’s happening through the closed door, is absolutely horrible sir, if you see what I mean sir. In fact, sir, we all agree that waiting outside to be beaten is as bad as the beating itself, sir.”

“Well if that is what you all want; although it is an unusual request, I have no objection in acceding to your wishes. So now that that is settled, let’s get on with it. Come into my study the four of you, and you three prefects, take of your coats, shoes, trousers and underpants and prepare your bottoms for presentation to me.”

As Rufus issued the order to the lads to strip, a look of horror spread across their faces. Conway again took the lead, saying: “Sir, you are not going to make the three of us stand around half-naked sir, are you?  Sir, it would be most embarrassing for the three of us to be forced to stand there exposing our private parts to you and the house-captain, sir, whilst you beat each one of us, sir.”

“That, Conway, is not at all my intention.” said Rufus, as he arranged three wooden chairs, seat to back, in a line down the middle of his study. “You asked me to beat you together, and that is exactly what I am intending to do. So, if you would now divest yourselves of items of clothing I have just mentioned and present to me your bare bottoms, by each bending across the back of one of the three chairs you see before you, I shall be delighted to meet your request and cane the three of you together, if not quite simultaneously then at least sequentially.”

“Now boys, keep perfectly still whilst I apply the cane to your buttocks. Keep your hands firmly on the seat of the chair and stick your bottoms well up into the air air so that I can see what I am doing. Now as you have requested to be beaten together, I shall give each of you one cut, for which you will each, of course thank me.”

“The appropriate phrase after each cut is thank you, sir, for correcting me.I shall then repeat the same procedure eight more times.”

“Oh, I seem to have forgotten to tell you that you are each to receive nine cuts on the bare with the senior cane.  For the second and each subsequent stroke, I shall lay the cane gently across the appropriate place where it will, on its descent, mate with your bare bottom. However, each time that you feel the light touch of the cane on your bare flesh, you will then say, each time:  please give me another stroke, sir. I shall, of course, be only too pleased to grant you your wish, after which you will then repeat your words of thanks, which just to remind you are: thank you, sir, for correcting me.”

“So boys you see, that in this way, I shall give each of you a leisurely nine stroke beating, with a longish pause between each cut, which will allow each of you to reflect on the need to reform your ways.  I believe that as you later reflect on things, you will all be grateful to me for having had the foresight to correct you and pull you back from the slippery slope on which you now find yourselves.  I shall beat you in a very gentlemanly and civilized manner. You will all relax your buttock muscles, which will remain completely unclenched and flaccid during the entire punishment. I expect and will tolerate no jumping around, hands on bottoms or hysterical outbursts whilst I am attending to your urgent needs.”

“Now, I think I have made everything clear, so please, each of you assume the appropriate position. You may take the chair of your choice, as there is no special order and you will each receive exactly the same treatment.  And, as for you, Avery, you may observe your co-prefects being punished from over there against the wall and reflect on the possibility that I may still give you a few extra strokes for your stupidity in exposing your bare bottom to general view in the corridor. You really are an idiot, Avery.”

By now the atmosphere in the study was electric. All four boys were highly nervous and terrified of what was about to happen to them them. Rufus looked across at Avery standing against the wall attempting to cover, with his hands, what was obviously a massive erection. He saw too, as the three boys stripped-off to take their positions across the chairs that each of them was similarly sexually aroused by what was happening to them.

And he too was again feeling the erotic effects which corporal punishment especially of muscular young-men, which the prefects all were, inevitably seems to engender in both parties to the act.  Neither the beater nor the beaten seem to be immune to the sexual arousal which so often accompanies beatings. Rufus knew that once he had finished thrashing the three lads, he would again be forced to rush off to his bathroom to attend to the needs of his own rampant cock.

It was not that he objected, per se, to the omnipresent sexual arousal, which was there whenever he beat a boy; especially older boys or young men, as in the present case. Quite the contrary, in fact, for as a dedicated wielder of the cane, an act that gave him secretly infinite,  the pleasure he derived from the erections he experienced were part and parcel of the whole and were more difficult to conceal. It was just that the overt signs were very embarrassing, especially when other colleagues were present.

The moment of no return had arrived. Three superbly attractive, muscular arses were presented to Rufus for punishment across the backs of three chairs. He went along the line and carefully and neatly folded each lad’s shirt-tails back under the shirt, thereby exposing fully the three pairs of yet undefiled buttocks to the cane. Looking at these sexually attractive pieces of young male anatomy, Rufus would have dearly loved first to stripe all three with the cane then go on and fuck the living daylights out of each young man’s anus. 

But he knew that could never be. He knew he had to content himself with the pleasure of giving each lad nine swingeing cuts with his senior cane. That evening he would satisfy his sexual needs by fucking his lover, Tom Swires. And who know, he might hit lucky and tonight might just be one of those nights when Tom was in the mood to have his arse beaten by his lover before they fucked.

The first stroke cracked down on the bare arse of the lucky lad over the end chair and it was Conway in that position. As he had decided to give the three prefects a parallel, non-overlay beating, Rufus saw no reason at all to hold back on any of the nine strokes which he proposed to deliver. He, therefore, put all his force behind that inaugural cut of the joint beating.  But then, knowing Rufus as we now do, when did he ever hold back with the cane?

Rufus received the appropriate homage for his efforts, as Conway duly acknowledged the efficacy of what was happening to him by letting out a scream of pain. Conway, who had clearly appreciated – possibly the wrong choice of word – was already sobbing and had completely forgotten to thank his housemaster for his corrective efforts on his behalf. Rufus, however, quickly reminded him of the protocol which he had laid down by saying: “Conway, I think you have forgotten something.”

Conway, fearing another immediate, stinging bite from the cane, quickly composed himself and said: sorry sir, I had completely forgotten to thank you for your efforts on my behalf, sir. Please excuse the lapse, sir. He then went on and uttered the somewhat hypocritical words which Rufus demanded: thank you, sir, for correcting me.

Rufus moved on and gave Bentham who was in the middle and Parry who was last, the first of their nine strokes. Having heard Conway being reminded of the protocol both Bentham and Parry thanked Rufus for the first stroke.  Rufus then returned his attention to Conway. By now that first stroke was colouring up and was  a livid red colour already tinged with the blue of the bruising which a well-applied cane inevitably leaves. Rufus had placed all three of his first strokes more or less on what he himself always thought of as the equator of a boy’s two globes, He now laid the cane gently higher up Conway’s arse, towards his lower back, and waited. Conway was slow to react but then suddenly realised that he was expected to ask for the next stroke and with a certain reluctance, muttered the obligatory request:   please give me another stroke, sir.

“Come along, Conway, I can barely hear you, boy.  If you want me to do something for your benefit, Conway, then kindly have the courtesy to ask me in a voice which I can hear. Perhaps, Conway, you would like to repeat your request, which if I can hear what you want, I shall, after due consideration, probably be willing to grant.”

All three boys now saw that their housemaster was intent on conducting what was a piece of theatre with them to which, as supplicants, they had no alternative but to play along with him.  So Conway repeated his request for a second stroke, loud and clear. Rufus, of course, reacted by giving the lad his second taste of the cane, which from Conway’s appreciative scream, clearly hit the spot.

And so Rufus continued with his cane, obliging the boys to make farcical, repeated requests for additional strokes to be given, followed by equally farcical expressions of thanks. As stroke followed swingeing stroke all three boys were soon reduced to tears. Rufus was very good at inflicting pain with the cane, which he did, in the present case, with his customary ruthless efficiency.  Each lad received four, painful strokes on his upper buttocks. But then, the worst was still to come, as Rufus had reserved five strokes for the lower reaches of each lad’s arse, towards the highly sensitive crease area. 

It is safe to say that  although not possibly as bad as the overlay beating which Avery had received, when the three prefects were finally told to get up from their chairs and put back on their clothes, they each took with them what, by any standards, qualified as a well-beaten arse. But the exhaustive, relentless ruthlessness of  Rufus was finally demonstrated when he turned to Avery, who had been nervously observing his housemates being  thrashed and said: “Well, Avery, on consideration, I think that in view of your gross stupidity in the corridor a little earlier, you would benefit from a little further correction.  Avery, you need to learn that gentlemen do not expose their naked bottoms in public even if they think that only their friends are watching. Bend across one of the chairs, Avery, as I intend to give you an addition three cuts to teach you a lesson However, this time, I shall allow you to keep on your trousers.”

Rufus then went ahead and treated Avery’s arse to three further cuts along his crease. And even with his trousers up the pain was just dreadful, as Rufus spared neither the boy nor himself as he delivered three more resounding cuts to Avery’s arse. One thing was quite sure as a result of Rufus’s – well let’s call it what it was – massacre –  his four senior house members left with the knowledge that their new housemaster meant business and was not someone to be trifled with.

As the four of them stood, again fully dressed and attempting with varying degrees of success, to compose themselves after what had been an ordeal, Rufus looked at them and said: “Well gentlemen, I hope that you now see just how much thing need to be improved in this house and how I intend to achieve that objective.  Now in spite of what has just happened, I have no intention of demoting you from your present positions of authority. Indeed, quite the contrary, as I hope that you will take what has happened to you this afternoon as a lesson in how I expect things to be handled in this house.”

“From now on, as house-captain and house-prefects, I shall expect you, the four senior members of York House, to carry out your duties, not only to maintain strict order, but to correct the lackadaisical, anything-will-do attitudes into which the boys of this house have sadly fallen. Until I see a vast improvement both in standards and general attitude, the cane will reign supreme in York House. Boys committing even the slightest offence must be called to task and caned. Forget giving lads verbal warnings for their misdeeds. In my view, words are useless.  Actions, as I am sure you will all agree after your own recent experiences, speak louder than words. Rewarding a boy for his sins with a well-beaten bottom is a very persuasive argument for reform.”

“Now let me be quite clear on one point; I have beaten the four of you very soundly today because of your attitudes, which, along with that of the other boys, must also change. So, make no mistake, the fact that I have punished you today, does not preclude the fact that if you, yourselves do not change your attitude and general standards of behaviour and show some of the backbone that has so sadly been lost, you will suffer the same fate again.”

“So the future of York House and of you yourselves is in your own hands.  You have the authority of your positions and my blessing to deal with and correct any boy, no matter what his age, as and when you see fit. I can but repeat to you the old maxim: spare the rod and spoil the boy.  There is no reason whatsoever, why the rod should be spared at all in this house and I sincerely hope by the end of this term that I shall see a considerable improvement in the general behaviour. Gentlemen, the future lies in your own hands. so unless any of you have any questions, you are now free to go and attend to the pain, which I am sure, having gone through the same mill myself as a boy at school, is doubtless raging in each of your backsides.”

To be continued..