I Received Corporal Punishment At School
Caned With Pyjamas Down At Boarding School. I was at a school only for one term as my father was changing jobs. It was a good private boarding school, but they also made good use of the cane. I was nine at the time.
At 8.00 pm we had to wash and get into our pyjamas ready to jump into bed at 8.30 at lights out, and remain silent until the morning. I think on about my fifth night some talking took place, and to be fair I was one of them. The housemaster came in, turned on the light and gave us all a lecture about not talking. I thought that was the end of the matter. Just as he moved to turn the light out he said he wanted to see all of us (12 boys) in our pyjamas outside his room at 7am.
The boy in the next bed whispered to me.....
Have you had the cane before?
No.
You will have in the morning. He will give us all four strokes on the bum.
I could not get to sleep, thinking about what the boy had told me. Thoughts went through my mind like.....how much would it hurt?.......could I take it?......
Will I cry?.......will I get it standing up, touching toes or over a chair?......will I get it softer being new?????.......does it hurt like boys say?????...will I be able to sit down for lessons afterwards???.....
I just could not get to sleep and even had a picture in my mind of me bending over and the cane cracking across my tight pyjama trousers. I lay in bed with my hands down my pyjama trousers holding my little bottom thinking about how much the cane was going to hurt on it. I knew in a few hours it was going to be sore...very sore. I was almost crying as i fell to sleep at last.
At last it was time and with my heart pounding and my legs feeling weak we made our way to the housemasters room. I could not help asking a boy, hoping the other boy had lied.....
“are we going to get the cane?”
“of course”
“Does it hurt much”
“Yah. He gives you good ones...its your fault. I was not talking.”
“how many do you think we will get”
“it will four across the bum.”
Of course this made me more scared and confirmed what the other boy told me. While it was only about two hundred yards to the housemasters room it seemed like miles. Its a horrid thought knowing you are going go get caned and every step is a step nearer to that dreaded moment when your world comes to an end and you bend over .
The door to his room was open and he saw us coming. He called just the first two boys in telling them to leave the door open. They went in but were out of sight of us outside. Their was no talk just “Four strokes. Over the chair Watts” . After what seemed ages THWAAACK, the first stroke landed on his bottom. We all looked at each other and flinched every time we heard the dreadful sound of the cane landing on his bottom. A sound mixed with him crying and our heavy breathing. I think we all had either our hands on our pyjama trousers or down inside them grasping our little bottoms in fearful expectation. Then it was the request for Gibbs to go over the chair and my eyes started to fill with water. I could not see what was going on in the room, but knew it wwould soon be my name called to go over the chair....it would be my bottom sticking out waiting to be caned.....it would be my bottom being hit and me crying.He hit hard,
The two left grasping their bottoms and the next two went in. I was puzzled why their was always a gap between them being told to bend over and the sound of the cane landing. They left and the next two went in. As each two went in my fear became greater. That dreasdul sound would soon be caused by the cane jitting my bottom. It sounded as if he really whacked your bottom with the cane. Everybody that came out was crying and with hands down trousers grasping their throbbing bottoms. When Goram came out his pyjama trousers were partly down and in spite of his hands could see two vivid red lines across the top of his white bottom. This nearly made me burst out crying as I saw the two red swollen lines where the cane had got him. He saw me looking and for a second took his hands away and just lowered his pyjama trousers enough so I could see the four red lines across his bottom.It my me swallow hard as I saw the marks. I had seen cane marks before on boys but not just after they had been caned and certainly not while waiting to get it myself. The marks were even worse than I had feared. Then along with Howard it was my turn. As I went in I saw an old leather chair, the back of which we had to lean over. In his hand he held the cane and knew it was going to sting.
“Howard...bend over the chair” from where I was standing I could see Howards pyjama trousers being tightly stretched across his bottom. They were so tight that I could see the outline of all his features. Then to my horror, I found out what the delay was in boys being told to bend over and that horrid sound. The housemaster got the top of his pyjama trousers and with one tug pulled them down to his knees. He was left bending over sticking out his little bare white bottom waiting to have it caned. Not in the worse moments the night before had I ever imagined it would be on my bare bottom. THWAAACK i watched it go across his bottom. It scared me so much that I felt sick and nearly wet myself. The thought of having my bare bottom caned did not embarrass me as such but scared me to death. Nothing could stop the pain and he really whacked hard. I looked on almost in envy as I saw Howards bottom caned and the way he managed to keep it still for the next stroke. I saw the four red swollen lines across his bottom then the words I dreaded.
“your turn Clarke.....over the chair.”
I more shuffled to the chair than walked to it and took a deep breath and reached over it. By bottom stuck out and the more it stuck out the tighter my pyjama trousers. I hoped for a second that as I was new he may let me keep them on. The hope did not last long. I felt his fingers go down each side of my pyjama trousers and in a second my bare bottom was sticking out waiting its fate. I was breathing very heavy and my heart was beating like a drum. My eyes started to fill with water, as I waited. I could just see back and saw the cane being raised and gritted my teeth and grasped the chair tightly expecting to be hit. It was not a stroke, just like the other boys it was two little taps, that stung, when he measured up my bottom. I knew they were little taps and if they stung that much the real ones were going to be terrible. I could do nothing.....i had to keep bending over that chair so he could whack my bare bottom with the cane as hard as he decided. My mouth was as dry as anything as I waited that fearful moment when his cane made contact with my bottom. I heard the THWAAACK as the cane went across both little cheeks pushing them in and my body forward. At first I felt nothing then the most terrible pain. It felt as if somebody was pushing a red hot rod right into my bottom. I wanted to move so as to save myself, but was so scared that I just lay over the chair so he could land a second stroke on my bottom. I just managed to hold back shouting as he hit me but the tears rolled down my face. I was trying to convince myself if other boys could take it then so could i. It was a thought I kept in my mind as the third stroke cut across my little bottom. How could he hit such a small target so hard right in the correct place each time. The thought that I only had one more kept me bending over before taking it and told to stand.
As I stood the pain increased and continued as I carefully pulled up my pyjama trousers over my caned bottom. I touched it with one hand that made me flinch and then looked at my hand. I had expected to see blood on it where he had cut me, but nothing. With Howard I shuffled my way back to the dorm grasping my actual bottom, trying to reduce the pain. I did not succed and all I could feel on my bottom, which had been so smooth to the touch the night before was four swollen ridges that went across both cheeks. Each time I touched the centre of the ridge I flinched due to the extra pain.
As soon as I got back I joined the other boys in the shower and we showed each other our cane marked bottoms. We all had four perfect lines right across the middle of both cheeks. Slowly I turned the water colder and colder and let it run over my sore cheeks to try and numb them. It worked a bit but I had to take great care to sit on my side for the rest of the day. The next morning the redness had gone from the marks but we all had mauvish blue lines on our bottoms where each stroke had landed and lasted About 10 days.
Before being caned that night I was hoping he would let me off being new. Then the shock of realisation that i was going to be caned. The ordeal continued as i heard the cane land on boys bottoms and seeing them leave in tears grasping their bottoms. Then to complete the ordeal watching Howard getting it and t my shock realising the cane was going to be used on my bare bottom.
Of course I did not want to be caned and at the time would have done almost anything to prevent it, but once the sting had gone off a little I was glad I had taken it. At the time I thought it was harsh being new and not spared, but after getting it, knew it would have been unfair and resented by the others. The two worse parts of the caning was actually watching the boy before me getting it, certainly when on the bare bottom and you can see the marks its is leaving. Secondly is the moment that you bend over the chair and you feel your bottom being bared. You realise that with nothing on, you are going to get the full sting of each stroke. You feel very scared and alone but just keep holding position sticking out your bare bottom, and knowing you are sticking it out so that it can be caned hard and you can do nothing to prevent it
(names have been changed to protect those envolved)
At 8.00 pm we had to wash and get into our pyjamas ready to jump into bed at 8.30 at lights out, and remain silent until the morning. I think on about my fifth night some talking took place, and to be fair I was one of them. The housemaster came in, turned on the light and gave us all a lecture about not talking. I thought that was the end of the matter. Just as he moved to turn the light out he said he wanted to see all of us (12 boys) in our pyjamas outside his room at 7am.
The boy in the next bed whispered to me.....
Have you had the cane before?
No.
You will have in the morning. He will give us all four strokes on the bum.
I could not get to sleep, thinking about what the boy had told me. Thoughts went through my mind like.....how much would it hurt?.......could I take it?......
Will I cry?.......will I get it standing up, touching toes or over a chair?......will I get it softer being new?????.......does it hurt like boys say?????...will I be able to sit down for lessons afterwards???.....
I just could not get to sleep and even had a picture in my mind of me bending over and the cane cracking across my tight pyjama trousers. I lay in bed with my hands down my pyjama trousers holding my little bottom thinking about how much the cane was going to hurt on it. I knew in a few hours it was going to be sore...very sore. I was almost crying as i fell to sleep at last.
At last it was time and with my heart pounding and my legs feeling weak we made our way to the housemasters room. I could not help asking a boy, hoping the other boy had lied.....
“are we going to get the cane?”
“of course”
“Does it hurt much”
“Yah. He gives you good ones...its your fault. I was not talking.”
“how many do you think we will get”
“it will four across the bum.”
Of course this made me more scared and confirmed what the other boy told me. While it was only about two hundred yards to the housemasters room it seemed like miles. Its a horrid thought knowing you are going go get caned and every step is a step nearer to that dreaded moment when your world comes to an end and you bend over .
The door to his room was open and he saw us coming. He called just the first two boys in telling them to leave the door open. They went in but were out of sight of us outside. Their was no talk just “Four strokes. Over the chair Watts” . After what seemed ages THWAAACK, the first stroke landed on his bottom. We all looked at each other and flinched every time we heard the dreadful sound of the cane landing on his bottom. A sound mixed with him crying and our heavy breathing. I think we all had either our hands on our pyjama trousers or down inside them grasping our little bottoms in fearful expectation. Then it was the request for Gibbs to go over the chair and my eyes started to fill with water. I could not see what was going on in the room, but knew it wwould soon be my name called to go over the chair....it would be my bottom sticking out waiting to be caned.....it would be my bottom being hit and me crying.He hit hard,
The two left grasping their bottoms and the next two went in. I was puzzled why their was always a gap between them being told to bend over and the sound of the cane landing. They left and the next two went in. As each two went in my fear became greater. That dreasdul sound would soon be caused by the cane jitting my bottom. It sounded as if he really whacked your bottom with the cane. Everybody that came out was crying and with hands down trousers grasping their throbbing bottoms. When Goram came out his pyjama trousers were partly down and in spite of his hands could see two vivid red lines across the top of his white bottom. This nearly made me burst out crying as I saw the two red swollen lines where the cane had got him. He saw me looking and for a second took his hands away and just lowered his pyjama trousers enough so I could see the four red lines across his bottom.It my me swallow hard as I saw the marks. I had seen cane marks before on boys but not just after they had been caned and certainly not while waiting to get it myself. The marks were even worse than I had feared. Then along with Howard it was my turn. As I went in I saw an old leather chair, the back of which we had to lean over. In his hand he held the cane and knew it was going to sting.
“Howard...bend over the chair” from where I was standing I could see Howards pyjama trousers being tightly stretched across his bottom. They were so tight that I could see the outline of all his features. Then to my horror, I found out what the delay was in boys being told to bend over and that horrid sound. The housemaster got the top of his pyjama trousers and with one tug pulled them down to his knees. He was left bending over sticking out his little bare white bottom waiting to have it caned. Not in the worse moments the night before had I ever imagined it would be on my bare bottom. THWAAACK i watched it go across his bottom. It scared me so much that I felt sick and nearly wet myself. The thought of having my bare bottom caned did not embarrass me as such but scared me to death. Nothing could stop the pain and he really whacked hard. I looked on almost in envy as I saw Howards bottom caned and the way he managed to keep it still for the next stroke. I saw the four red swollen lines across his bottom then the words I dreaded.
“your turn Clarke.....over the chair.”
I more shuffled to the chair than walked to it and took a deep breath and reached over it. By bottom stuck out and the more it stuck out the tighter my pyjama trousers. I hoped for a second that as I was new he may let me keep them on. The hope did not last long. I felt his fingers go down each side of my pyjama trousers and in a second my bare bottom was sticking out waiting its fate. I was breathing very heavy and my heart was beating like a drum. My eyes started to fill with water, as I waited. I could just see back and saw the cane being raised and gritted my teeth and grasped the chair tightly expecting to be hit. It was not a stroke, just like the other boys it was two little taps, that stung, when he measured up my bottom. I knew they were little taps and if they stung that much the real ones were going to be terrible. I could do nothing.....i had to keep bending over that chair so he could whack my bare bottom with the cane as hard as he decided. My mouth was as dry as anything as I waited that fearful moment when his cane made contact with my bottom. I heard the THWAAACK as the cane went across both little cheeks pushing them in and my body forward. At first I felt nothing then the most terrible pain. It felt as if somebody was pushing a red hot rod right into my bottom. I wanted to move so as to save myself, but was so scared that I just lay over the chair so he could land a second stroke on my bottom. I just managed to hold back shouting as he hit me but the tears rolled down my face. I was trying to convince myself if other boys could take it then so could i. It was a thought I kept in my mind as the third stroke cut across my little bottom. How could he hit such a small target so hard right in the correct place each time. The thought that I only had one more kept me bending over before taking it and told to stand.
As I stood the pain increased and continued as I carefully pulled up my pyjama trousers over my caned bottom. I touched it with one hand that made me flinch and then looked at my hand. I had expected to see blood on it where he had cut me, but nothing. With Howard I shuffled my way back to the dorm grasping my actual bottom, trying to reduce the pain. I did not succed and all I could feel on my bottom, which had been so smooth to the touch the night before was four swollen ridges that went across both cheeks. Each time I touched the centre of the ridge I flinched due to the extra pain.
As soon as I got back I joined the other boys in the shower and we showed each other our cane marked bottoms. We all had four perfect lines right across the middle of both cheeks. Slowly I turned the water colder and colder and let it run over my sore cheeks to try and numb them. It worked a bit but I had to take great care to sit on my side for the rest of the day. The next morning the redness had gone from the marks but we all had mauvish blue lines on our bottoms where each stroke had landed and lasted About 10 days.
Before being caned that night I was hoping he would let me off being new. Then the shock of realisation that i was going to be caned. The ordeal continued as i heard the cane land on boys bottoms and seeing them leave in tears grasping their bottoms. Then to complete the ordeal watching Howard getting it and t my shock realising the cane was going to be used on my bare bottom.
Of course I did not want to be caned and at the time would have done almost anything to prevent it, but once the sting had gone off a little I was glad I had taken it. At the time I thought it was harsh being new and not spared, but after getting it, knew it would have been unfair and resented by the others. The two worse parts of the caning was actually watching the boy before me getting it, certainly when on the bare bottom and you can see the marks its is leaving. Secondly is the moment that you bend over the chair and you feel your bottom being bared. You realise that with nothing on, you are going to get the full sting of each stroke. You feel very scared and alone but just keep holding position sticking out your bare bottom, and knowing you are sticking it out so that it can be caned hard and you can do nothing to prevent it
(names have been changed to protect those envolved)
