Caned At School
I recall as a youngster being fascinated by the cane and the idea of someone being spanked, although I wasn’t spanked at home. I can’t really remember how this fascination came about, but I do remember such thoughts at age about 8 or 9.
At primary school, if you misbehaved, then you would get smacked by the teacher. That would involve either, if necessary rolling up the sleeve, getting you arm slapped, or else, at this time, boys wore short trousers, pulling up the trouser leg, or skirt if it was a girl, just enough to allow the thigh to be slapped.
I remember there was a dinner lady who had a glove she carried with her and used to protect her hand while she gave a slapping. I always used to hope she would never catch me getting up to mischief, because, with that glove, she used to give your legs a really good slapping. It always used to make me cry.
I got slapped several times and used to fear that happening, yet I found the punishment exciting.
Then followed the move to secondary school, I was a awarded a place at one of the two local grammar schools for boys. To illustrate how it considered its status, it did of course have a uniform, but not quite what you might expect. It consisted of a suit, which was essentially grey, but had a hint of white speckles. Not only that, we had to wear a waistcoat, at least for the first couple of years. So that is quite a different and unusual uniform.
I was the only one from my school to be awarded a scholarship to that school. I remember how it was stated, almost with terror, by some pupils at the primary school, that if you misbehaved at this school, you got the cane on your BOTTOM! The very idea of that seemed to instill horror in the minds of most other students. I remember that threat had for me a peculiar fascination.
Well, I survived at this school for about 18 months, but of course, the inevitable happened eventually! I remember that first occasion well. I knew I had done wrong and deserved to be punished. I had expected the cane to really hurt, after all there seems to be little purpose in caning someone if it is not intended to hurt.
I entered the headmaster's study with anticipation. Would this hurt more than getting my legs slapped? After the customary lecture on what I had done, I was told I was to get three strokes. I was commanded to toe the edge of the carpet, then bend over and put my hands below my knees. Those three strokes of the cane were delivered in quick succession.
It had finished and I felt nothing. Then there was a sudden explosion of sting, though not real pain. It certainly produced a good sting, but no more.
I came out of his study feeling really disappointed and cheated. I felt I hadn't been punished properly. It hadn’t been quite the painful and challenging experience I use to receive at the hands of our dinner lady! This may sound crazy, but I felt I had really wanted it to hurt and make me cry.
Still, the sting was a new and exciting experience. And I went to the toilet and felt my bottom. I could feel the double ridges produced by the cane, and they felt so hot to the touch. That night I admired the red double tram lines and could still feel the ridges.
The ridges soon disappeared, but the lines lasted abut a week before they faded completely.
So the experience was exciting and left me with the hope it would not be my last caning and that on the next occasion, maybe he would decide I needed to be punished more severely and would this time hurt me and make me cry.
I was now totally addicted to the cane and got it about four or five times more at school. On one occasions, I got six strokes. Maybe this will hurt I thought, but now such luck. He told me not to bend over too far he didn’t want to hurt me too much!
So I left school unpunished. It took a few years to get that satisfying experience before the days of the internet, but eventually I got that experience and have been caned on numerous occasions since then.