A Very Special School

"Is it all right, sir, now that you have beaten me, if I put my clothes back on now sir, as I am beginning to feel cold."

With shades of Oscar Wilde's Lady Bracknell, the Commander laughed and replied: "McGregor, I shall inform you when you are feeling cold and let me tell you, you are not going to feel cold much longer; no, boy, you may not put your clothes back on, indeed, far from it, as I have not yet finished with you; in fact, I have barely begun."

"But, sir, you have just beaten me and I have told you what I said to Mr. Caruthers, so please can I get dressed and go back to my house, please sir?"

"McGregor, you are deluding yourself; let me repeat what I have already told you; the caning you have just received was not a beating in the true sense, but a therapeutic application of the cane to help you recover your lost memory; as such it seems to have been a great success. But now that I have heard what you actually said to Mr. Caruthers, I can well see why he gave you a punishment citation. McGregor, you can try to excuse yourself as often as you wish, but your words to Mr. Caruthers are totally and utterly unforgivable. They show us a vicious side of your character, a trait which I have traced through your file over the several years you have been in an approved institution. What you said cannot be let pass unpunished and it falls to me to administer that punishment. Turn around, boy, and tell me what you see against the wall over there."

McGregor tuned his head, looked at what was obviously a beating horse and said to the Commander: "It looks, sir, like a horse, over which a boy is put to take a beating."

"Quite right, boy, but did you notice that there are straps to hold the legs and hands of that unfortunate lad? Well let me tell you why they are there. Sometimes a boy needs a very thorough beating and, to ensure that he remains still throughout, his arms and legs are strapped down so that he cannot move. Now, McGregor, your remarks to Mr. Caruthers, put you in just such a category. You, boy, deserve and I am going to give you, the hardest beating you have ever had. So, boy, go and put yourself across the horse and wait for me."

The Commander watched as McGregor slowly approached the horse and finally bent over it, allowing the Commander rapidly to attach the straps to his arms and legs. As be bent across this contraption, the Commander adjusted the height so that the boy's arse was in the perfect position for punishment. He looked with a certain satisfaction at the neat parallel cuts he had given the boy during what he nonsensically had dubbed "his therapy session". The cuts were already bright red and beginning to turn a bluish shade and the Commander knew full well that McGregor was already in great pain. But that was nothing compared to the pain he was now going to experience as the Commander prepared to beat the hell out of his backside with the freshly made birch.

"Sir, please sir, what are you going to do to me? You have already given me one beating and now you want to begin again. Please sir, I don't deserve any more; please sir, I really don't."

"McGregor, button our lip, boy; it is I and I alone who decide what you deserve or do not deserve and let me tell you, boy, that after what you said to Mr. Caruthers, if the cat of nine tails were permitted then I would have no hesitation in using it on you. You, boy, are the worst type of miscreant that society finds itself obliged to put up with; you, boy, are an utter disgrace; you have no consideration for anyone and if you continue your life in the way you have led it to date, then you will, in all probability, go from this juvenile correction establishment directly to prison, which frankly, may be the best place for you. I can tell you here and now that unless you change your ways, civilized society will have no place for you."

"You have asked me what I am going to do to you; well let me tell you; in that tall bucket over there is soaking a freshly made birch and I am going to use that on your arse. If you think that the caning I just gave you was painful, then all I can tell you is that you have no idea of what you are now going to experience. I hope I have made myself clear; I am going, in the terms you and others of your ilk would probably use, "to roast your arse". And, McGregor, you will doubtless be delighted to know that you have the honour of being the first person birched by me since the opening of this school earlier this year. Here, boy, bite on this cork; it will help you stand the pain, like a man."

The Commander picked the birch out of its bath, shook off the excess water, thrashed it threateningly a few times in the air and then prepared to give McGregor's arse the attention it so richly merited. And, although corporal punishment was used to excess in the Moulton-Midmarsh school, one has to say, as an independent observer of this little scene, that if ever a boy needed a good birching, then that boy was surely McGregor; he had all the makings of a really nasty and dangerous young man, as his threat to Mr. Caruthers had shown.

As an instrument of punishment, the birch is unique, in that as it discharges its bounty across the naked arse of the recipient, it fans out and, unlike a single cane, creates a widespread field of pain. The immediate impression of the recipient, as the first stroke lands on his naked flesh - and the birch is always applied to the naked flesh - is that this has not the makings of a particularly awful experience; the pain is there, but at first appears slight and superficial; but as stroke after stroke lands, the pain quickly builds up to be totally excruciating and the birch truly merits its reputation as the king of school corporal punishment implements; it is the one most feared and to be avoided at all costs.

The Commander applied the birch with as great a force as he could muster and each stroke left those small bruise marks all across the buttocks, which when the punishment is complete, colour up and begin to look like some modern painting. Stroke after stroke fell on McGregor arse, and he began to emit moans of pain as the beating continued. Then after the fifteenth stroke the Commander stopped and said,

"That's your lot, boy, until the next time, that is! And I suspect there may well be several "next times" with a lad like you!"

Chapter 11

The Commander left McGregor still strapped over the beating bench and it was obvious from the moans he emitted, that he was clearly in great pain. The Commander thought for a moment and then said'

"McGregor, do you know what the word buggery means?"

"I think so, sir."

"Well then, why don't you enlighten me and explain to me in simple language, what you understand the word to mean."

McGregor, who like many boys of eighteen who had spent much of their time in rough company and indulging in pastimes of a doubtful nature, was very street wise and knew full well what buggery was, but here he was being ordered by the Commander to explain what it meant! It was one stage worse than having to repeat those embarrassing words he had uttered to Mr. Caruthers. But he knew that the Commander would ultimately force an answer out of him so he frantically searched his brain to find a suitable reply.

One has to realise that to a relatively uneducated and unsophisticated boy, with little knowledge of other than the most basic English, to attempt to explain the meaning of buggery to a man who had the power over him, if not of life and death, but to certainly enough to make life for him very, very unpleasant, was a task approaching in its magnitude the first ascent of Everest.

"Come on boy, you say you know what buggery means; just untie your tongue for once and explain it to me."

"Well, sir, I really don't know the proper words to tell you what buggery means, sir; it's really very difficult for me to explain it to you."

"Well, McGregor, if you do know what buggery entails then why don't you just explain it to me in the words you do know and I will make a big effort and try to understand."

The Commander was being very cruel to the poor boy, for he knew full well that McGregor was fully conversant with what the act of buggery entailed, but, in the same way as he had found it excruciatingly difficult to repeat the crude words he had said to Mr. Caruthers, so now he had the same difficulty in putting into any form of words, what the act of buggery actually involved.

"McGregor, if I have to wait all night, you will remain strapped over that horse until you give me an explanation."

"Well sir, what actually happens is that one bloke with a hard on sticks his cock up the arsehole of another bloke and fucks him. It's sort of the same as a man does with a woman, you know, he fucks her, but as you know a man is built differently to a woman and the only hole where he can stick his cock is the other guy's arsehole, so that's what he does and that's what buggery is, sir. The guy with the cock pumps his spunk into the other guy's hole, sir."

"Well done, McGregor! You see you can describe things in your own words, and very graphically, if I may say so." And with that the Commander went over to the horse, untied McGregor and allowed him to stand up.

"Get up, McGregor and go and lean across that table there. I'll get some salve and apply it to your buttocks and you will find that it eases the pain."

The Commander went into his bathroom, found the salve but also a bottle of oil, for he had more on his mind than just easing the pain raging in the lad's arse. He came back and started to massage the pomade into the lad's wounds and as he did this he went on with the previous theme.

"So, McGregor, you are really very conversant with the act of buggery. How is it that you know in such graphic detail what it involves? It really does sound, from the way you talk, that you speak from firsthand experience. Come on, lad, out with it, have you indulged in the act yourself?"

McGregor, who was finding the Commander's massaging actions on his arse really quite pleasant - it certainly eased the pain quite a bit - but, again, the Commandeer was pursuing a line of thought that he really did not want to discuss any further; it was getting to be as embarrassing as having been forced to repeat his words to Mr. Caruthers. But the Commander having got the bit firmly between his teeth, was not to be diverted from his course and went on, pressing his question.

"Come on lad; answer the question; have you or have you yourself indulged in the practice we call buggery or not?"

All the while, the Commander's fingers grew more and more assertive with the salve and started moving towards McGregor's anus. McGregor was soon at his wit's end and knew that he had to answer; the truth of the matter was that the boy, along with many others, did, in fact, indulge in anal intercourse with his classmates; the lads simply fucked each other as it was their only outlet for their sexual urges, which simply could not be legislated away: urges which were part and parcel of every boy's and for that matter, man's life.

"Sir, when I was in prison, before I came here, one of the warders did have sex with me; several times, in fact!"

"And did you let him do what he did willingly or did you resist and did you report the incident to the person in charge?"

"No, sir, I did not report his actions and I could not stop him as he was so much bigger than me."

"And since then, here in this school have you and your classmates indulged in this illicit act? Come on boy, I want the truth and I shall know if you are lying, and if you are, let me tell you that the consequences will be be very, very painful indeed. So, don't tempt fate; answer me truthfully."

"Sir, we have only been here a few days really and so far, I have had sex just once with my friend and he with me."

"You mean that you, as you would put it, stuck your cock up his hole and he then did the same for you?"

By this time, McGregor was utterly terrified of what was going to happen to him and was trembling with fear as the Commander's fingers became ever more probing and started massaging his sphincter.

"I see now," continued the Commander, "How it is that you are so familiar with the act in question. And let me now ask you this; do you enjoy this act, either when you are the active partner or when you your friend reams out your own hole?"

"Well, sir, to be honest, I can't say that I dislike it, sir, otherwise I would not do it, sir, would I, sir?"

The Commander thrust is fingers into McGregor's hole, making the boy wince as he stretched his tight sphincter, then, unbuttoning his own flies to allow his rock hard cock to leap put, he quickly applied a good dose of oil to his tool and, without warning, thrust it hard into McGregor. McGregor let out a moan of pain and then was silent, whilst the Commander pumped away with ever increasing strokes and vigour. He was not long in climaxing and delivered a thick stream of his own creamy cum into the young man's rectum in a series of vigorous spurts. McGregor, until now totally silent, let out a moan of pleasure.

"Oh sir, that was wonderful." said McGregor.

"Well, lad, as you see, we all need some relief on occasions." was the only thing the Commander said as he withdrew himself from the young man.

The Commander pushed his cock back inside his trousers, buttoned himself up and said to McGregor, reverting to his authoritarian tone.

"I want the name of the boy with whom you indulged in the act of buggery since you came here; come on boy, out with it."

The reply came tremblingly from McGregor's lips, "It was Armitage, sir, Colin Armitage."

"And how old, exactly is Armitage?"

"He's the same age as me, sir."

Poor McGregor felt awful that he had ratted on his pal, Armitage; but what was the poor guy to do?; had he refused to answer the Commander, as sure as the sun rises each morning, his arse would have been thrashed to ribbons by the Commander's fury and that, in his present state of agony, he could not bear to think about. I think any boy in the same position would have done the same and so we should not judge McGregor too harshly for being disloyal to his friend; who in the same place what not have done the same?

"Stand up, boy; get dressed and leave." said the Commander.

McGregor grateful to be released, recovered his clothes, pulled them on and left, as he had been bidden. That night in the dormitory, his friend Armitage, along with the other lads, admired McGregor's naked arse with awe.

"Boy, you really did get a beating. I bet it hurt, didn't it?"

"It hurt like fucking hell, you idiot, what do you fucking think? And I can tell you the pain is still unbearable, so don't even begin to think about touching me! Keep the fuck off! You know, you have to hand it to that sodding Commander; he really does know how to handle the cane and the birch. My god, he gave me six of the cane and eighteen of the birch across my naked arse, but I guess after what I said to Caruthers, I deserved it. But you know the best bit? If you can believe it, that old sod then went on to massage my bum with an ointment and finished up actually fucking my hole with his own cock. And d'you know what, he's as handy with his dick as he is with the cane; but you know what? It was the best fuck, I think I ever had and, well, I did really enjoy it! Oh, and by the way, pal, he forced out me that you and me had had it off together so, lookout for yourself as you might find yourself in for the high jump. Sorry, pal but I had to tell him otherwise I would have had my arse beaten to fucking pulp before he had finished with me."

Colin Armitage said: "You reckon he performs better than me with his cock, do you? Listen, if you want, I can give you a quick fuck right now so that you can compare our styles. And if he sends for me, well, it won't be the first time I've taken a beating across my naked arse and, looking on the bright side, with any luck, he might give me the same sort of treatment as he gave you; I wouldn't say no to a fuck from the old sod." concluded Armitage, with a laugh.

The Commander felt well pleased with his night's work. He had enjoyed thrashing all the boys he had seen, especially McGregor, who had been the highlight of what had proved an exhilarating evening. But, had the Commander reflected on what he had just done, he would have realized that, with McGregor, he had ventured into what should have been, for him, strictly forbidden territory; but looking at McGregor' inviting buttocks, he simply had not been able to stop himself.

The fact was, nevertheless, that here, right at the beginning of his tenure as Warden of Moulton-Midmarsh School, in the first week of the first term, the Commander had started down a dangerous path, which would eventually, several years later, end in his imprisonment and the closure of the school. But it would have required a very farsighted mind at that moment, to grasp the later, potential ramifications of a seemingly casual act of illicit sex.

The Commander went to bed that night and slept the sleep of the innocent, wondering just before he dropped off, whether or not he should send for Armitage and give him a thrashing; on balance, he rather thought that he would!

Chapter 12

It was the morning after the Commander had birched and then buggered McGregor. He turned over in his mind what McGregor had told him about his sexual relationship with his friend, Colin Armitage and decided that he was not going to let the opportunity pass to give both lads a good thrashing. Homosexual relationships were forbidden territory in all schools but even though punishable by law, were, nevertheless, quite common. They were tolerated in most public schools, where the attitude of the staff was very much to let sleeping dogs lie.

But as anyone with the slightest understanding of human nature knows, you can legislate all you wish against any form of sex, but you will not stop it happening; it is just part and parcel of human nature. Of course the British penchants for educating boys completely separated from girls did not help matters and the public schools, essentially boarding establishments, where the boys had no contact at all with members of the opposite sex, made matters worse. In state schools where the pupils went home each evening, the problem was less pronounced, for boys had contact with girls out of school time. So what were boys, in late adolescence, totally cut off from members of the female sex, expected to do to relieve their totally normal sexual desires? Well the official answer was, of course to wait, but the actual solution was to fuck one of their school mates.

Now, the Commander was fully cognisant of all these fact, but he nonetheless felt it his duty to punish offenders if caught in the act. Otherwise, as he himself was not averse to administering a little anal therapy as he would have put it, to his charges, he adopted the attitude of "if we can't beat 'em, then let's join 'em and enjoy part of the fun". So, it was with this rather twisted philosophy that he sent for McGregor and Armitage, in the full knowledge that he intended to roast both their arses. The Commander saw nothing incongruous in the fact that he proposed to beat a boy for the act of buggery with a schoolmate, a boy whom he himself had buggered just the previous evening.

And so it was that the news was transmitted to the two miscreants that the Commander wished to see them in his study immediately after supper.

"I warned you, didn't I," said McGregor to his "partner in crime" Armitage.

"As sure as eggs are eggs, he's going to give us both a hiding for what we did together. I thought after what he did to me yesterday, that he might just send for you; but here we go: we're both in for the high jump, in my view."