My Worst Caning

i will never forget my worst caning, i was 15 at the time and had been hauled to the headmasters office for punching a prefect, the incident had been witnessed by my year head who i got on with great but rules were rules and prefects were a protected species, he sent me to the headmasters office with a little note he had wriiten, i dared not read the note as was frightened of the consequences, i arrived at the headmaster office and gave the note to the school secretary, she then went into the headmaster and closed the door while i waited outside, she then came out and said mr parsons would see me now, i went into the office and was met by a stern faced mr parsons after reading the riot act mr parsons then went to an old wooden cupboard and opened the door, inside the cupboard was a selection of canes, he picked the longest and thickest one and i remember the only one with a crook handle, he again gave another lecture and asked me to remove my blazer and bend over the desk in the middle of the room, i was told i would be receiving 6 strokes and would be expected to remain in position until finished, i was also instructed to count each stroke before it was delivered, i hesitantly went to the desk and duly bent over, call said mr parsons and i replied one sir, i heard the swish of the cane and suddenly felt the whack on my buttocks the pain was nothing like i had ever experienced i lunged as far forward into the desk as i could and before i could get my breath was asked to call again, two sir, again the swish of the cane was followed by a whack and again an almighty burning sensation, this one felt worse than the first i was now breathing heavily and before i could get composed was asked to call again, three sir, this stroke felt like it hit exactly the same spot as the first i was now clutching the desk with all my might to try and eleviate the pain but to no avail, call, four sir, the pain was now intense the fourth stroke seemed to hit all the othe three and again sent an incredible burning sensation to my behind, call, five sir, by now i was gasping for breath but only had one more to go, call, six sir, this was the worst of all it was as if he had saved the  best till last i could not help to leap up in pain, he looked at me and placed the cane back in the cupboard, although in agony i was determined not to cry again he lectured me about respect and passed me my blazer, i left the office and walking down the corridor i saw the prefect i had punched standing there sniggering, he had caused all the pain i had just encountered and i could not help myself i just lunged at him and began punching him only to be dragged off by mr parsons, you obviously haven't learnt your lesson have you? i was then frogmarched back to his office told to remove my blaze and get back over the desk as six strokes had not learnt me a lesson i was now about to receive twelve!! after the twelth stroke i was sobbing uncontrollably was again handed my blazer and told to leave, again the prefect was outside sniggering, needless to say i did not hit him again, in the space of 15 minutes i had had 18 strokes of the cane this record was not beaten to the day i left school 18 months later! i remember seeing mr parsons about 5 years later in a supermarket and greeted him with a good afternoon sir, to which he offered a nod of the head and a wry smile as if he remebered the beating as much as me!!
seanwolves seanwolves
21 Responses Oct 23, 2011

I could tell you about my first and only school caning at age 11 but there is not much to tell. It consisted of lining up and and each person except me got 3 strokes and cried. When my turn came I showed no outward sign that it had happened. I just shivered for an hour afterwards. The caning happened unexpectedly and for next to nothing. The fear was the worst part. I would have loved to have had a girl comfort me afterwards. For the rest of my school career I had a depressing terror of it happening again. It was the fear. If I had been caned on three or four occasions in a way that was not frightening it probably wouldn't have been problem.

Caned Bare Bottom Over A Bar Stool By A Female Friend!
“What I so much love about the cane is how so totally and absolutely convincing it is!”


The problem is that no one can explain an experience so perfectly that everyone can feel it exactly as it happened.
I can only try.

When I was in the fourth grade in 1959, forty years before the incident I am reconstructing, when Mrs. Crick said, "one learns best through the hands," she was not referencing some educational theory, but the fact that she was prepared to give ten strokes of her standard school strap on each bare palm of the hand of any offender in her class.
Such did indeed happen on this occasion below, but more followed:

Do not try to hide the sparkle in your eyes

Every time you run

Your fingers over the rattan

It is a touch you will make a part of me!

PLEASE give me my grade on this poem and following essay as soon as you have read it!
Thank you:

I handed her the rattan.
"You want me to cane you?"
"Yes. You need a reason."
She hesitated a few moments thinking it over.
"Questioning my authority!"

Caning was still legal throughout my childhood, and I was horrified of it to the point where I wouldn't even consider going to a school that featured it.
As an adult, one Saturday afternoon in August 1999, naked, I bent over a bar stool and touched the floor in front of me with the tips of my fingers.
That "hairpin," or "paperclip" position stretched and spread my bare buttocks wide open for total exposure.
Incredibly radiant smile, Dutch pretty, bedroom eyes, the right size to sit on my lap if she had wanted to, sincerely polite, considerate, utterly charming, ever so girlie girl, also naked Leah gave me "six-of-the best."
With black electrical tape I had wound around the stem just before the crook handle so as to give her a good grip on it, and to make it a true English school "Bognor," she used the 5/16" rattan.
This was the first time she had ever even held a cane in her hands, but she knew what she was doing because she had listened to the instructional audio, Miss Marianne Martindale's "The Art Of Caning."
There were six loud cracks. And, six tramlines on my bottom afterwards.
With each stroke, there was a caress across my bare bottom, followed a few seconds later by the pain which went no further than the area struck.
"I am surprised you can sit down," she said.
The thin red lines with ridges stood out for a few days.
By the next Saturday they were absolutely gone.

I am not one of those super-sensitive people who when a tongue goes in my mouth it sends a shock from the very top of my head to the tips of my toes.
What happened to my *** stayed there.
Whenever I sat down, for a couple of days immediately after the incident, I had a mild raw feeling, like something was missing .
I put an extra cushion on my chair.
That solved the problem.
Not a big deal.
There was no other subsequent discomfort than this tenderness.
By getting it as an act of friendship, I conquered that one terror in my life, much like turning snake poison into an antidote.
The experience gave me power and took none away.

It was a totally satisfying experience for Leah, and that makes it totally satisfying for me.
"I liked everything about it," said she. "I stopped only because I felt sorry for you. I didn't use follow through because I didn't want to cut you in two."
Pain, and the possibility of transcendence, there is something empowering about having "survived" a good thrashing!
I feel love for Leah, but it isn't.

It is a unique kind of bonding.

It's like she got a piece of me and made it a part of her, but the piece also grew back quickly and without a trace, and I have a piece of her which I treasure as a part of me now.

A girl is supposed to be non-threatening, she's someone you can hang out with, that's Leah, through and through.
Thirteen years later, sex addict, size queen, grade ten dropout, two kids by two different men, a never wore her seat belt car accident, god knows how many cigarettes, experimenting with drugs to "keep from getting fat," arrested for stealing form her employer, I wonder if she still giggles, and just how aware she is that, as I understand it, no man since has ever been willing to let her do to him anything at all like what she did with me.

Am I a good essayist?
A person who has been caned should have to write an essay about it afterwards.
I haven't been caned again since then, but when it does happen, I am sure I shall have to read this essay out loud, paragraph by paragraph, between strokes.

I do not think of this experience as being either "male" or "female," but rather a playing out of "desire," the only real universal natural category.

She got the right end of the stick for her.
I got the right end of the stick for me.
That cane was just the key to unlock good things for both of us.
I feel closer to women for it.
Three cheers!

This was a carefully controlled experiment in energy transfer which I do not regret, and like many other recipients, in time I grow fonder and fonder of the memory.

A satisfied woman is always an accomplishment to a man who loves them, no matter how long ago it was!

when were you last caned?

Pure fantasy.

Well, that is exactly what I would have done, left the school, within 24 hours and with the satisfaction that he still didn't cane me. I presume, by what I can ascertain in your thread, it was a private school you attended and as you said your parents signed up, "loco Parentis", I went to a State Comprehensive and even in the 1970s, this barbaric practice was begining to be questioned and cases started to appear before the European Court of Human Rights (which always found against Britain, on this matter). Interestingly, all European countries had abolished Corporal Punishment in schools, many years earlier, many, even before the Second World War. Even the totalitarian Eastern Block countries did not use Corporal Punishment in their schools, at this time. And as I pointed out in my earlier thread, I wouldn't have minded, if it was applied fairly, but it wasn't, so when some old reactionary, today yells out, "Lets bring back the cane in schools", I just laugh my head off!. Oh!, how this fearsome deterrent protected me from the bullies, who forcibly exposed me, to nearly 20 girls, against my will. An incident, that still scars me, today. As for my own act of civil disobedience, some years later, at the same school, I am still proud of what I did. What right, had a fully grown man in 1970s Britain (not 1870s), put a cane across my backside, resulting in actual bodily harm, ie wheel marks, swelling bruising etc, for what was a pretty trivial offence.

The cane was used frequently, if unofficially, in Czechoslovakia, also in Hungary. The strap was frequent too in the Czech army, as, of course, in Soviet Russia.
You are a communist, by the sound of your remarks, so these facts should be of interest - left wing idiot!

Yep, it is one of the biggest myths going that corporal punishment is never used in French schools too. It's nowhere near as ritualistic as it used to be in the UK, more of an exasperated smack on the backside by a frustrated teacher, but I've seen it happen for myself.

The thought never crossed my mind. Most punishments came from my housemaster who had been an international rugby pla<x>yer and was built like the side of a house. Defying him was unthinkable, and besides, he had every boy's parents sign a 'loco parentis' form which meant that the boy was, quite literally, 'his' to discipline as he saw fit.<br />
Refuse to take punishment? The alternative was always there - it involved packing one's bags and leaving the school within 24 hours. Not something we could ever contemplate, and besides, the consequences from one's father would be even worse!

Willenude, I wish you would have been in my class and refused a caning!

We had the cane at school, though the bullies who threw me out of the changing rooms naked, leaving me exposed to many girls, never received it, in fact they did not even get a telling off, from the boys PE teacher, who thought it was a great joke! I was twelve years of age, when that happened. Later on, when I was 15 years of age, at the same school, I was due to be caned, for a much lesser offence than above, which under today's strict interpretation of sexual abuse, would be regarded as none other than sexual assualt. Anyway, I went to the Heads office, and he had the cane ready, and do you know what?, I told him where he could stick his cane! I was roughly his size and was fully prepared to physically resist him if he tried to force it on me. He did not, but just mumbled something about, "informing my parents of my insurbordination", which he didn't. My parents, anyway, were totally on my side in refusing the punishment. He put me on report for a couple of weeks, which I reluctantly accepted. Why I recount this story, is I cannot understand, why more pupils in English Schools, when the cane was in use, did not just refuse to be caned. Most of these heads were cowards, admittedly if you were a young child, and not very well built, it would be difficult, but if you were well into your teens and of reasonable build, in most cases, I do not think they would have tried to fight you.

so why is this trouble maker (I suspect one to this very day!) even reading material about Corporal Punishment?
I think we all know the answer!

Good Q. Boys54, I would also like to know.

Wow, that must have have hurt like hell.

she received a canings record in an only day.<br />
was the number of strokes transcribed on the book of the punishments as from rule?.

Agree!, Negasman.<br />
<br />
Mine is from a woman (my wife)!

Oh yes, afterwards a great deal more. Looking back, 12 doesn't seem very many when you are used to 50+, but they did come very hard!

Negasman, same for me during school ~ 12 on the bare.<br />
Afterwards more!

18 was a very good caning - the most I ever had was twelve - on the bare bottom.

You British are lucky. I love England- Shakespeare, Monty Python, Kennet Clark, Bram Stoker, Piccadilly, and the cane. Especially the cane.

Seanwolves, please tell us more!

Yes when the head gave you six he meant to give them.

B.,<br />
My butt also had many canings, specially from age 12 to 17! I so wanted a female teacher to cane me, but that never happened in school!

i was caned upto age of 18 at home, i remember going to work one monday after having 12 strokes the night before!

Sean,<br />
Nice? story and well told ~ thanks! I can picture the whole situation. How long did it take your butt to heal and were there your skin broken at some places?

hi 2doerver, yeah skin was brook not bleeding but weeping, i had light scabbing for about a week, but the striped were visible for about 3 weeks, received another 6 strokes about a month later which seemed to hurt like hell probably due to still being a bit tender

Very Good and interesting story