The Ingram-Lewis Chronicles Pt. 02

Monday was the dawn of Patrick's first full week as a prefect. He had already decided that he would attempt to fill his monthly quota for the Friday night's Prefects' Court immediately, as he did not want to risk, having his own arse beaten as a substitute for that of some other poor sod. So he went around, eyes peeled, to ensure that not the slightest misdemeanour escaped him. Luck was with him as he found two second formers sneaking out of the school grounds without their caps on.

Taking a leaf out of the Head Boy's book he promptly upbraided them in the insulting, hectoring sort of language which it was evident that the prefects used when on the war path: "Where do you two miserable specimens of humanity think you are going in such an indecent state of undress," he began. "I have seen slovenliness in my time, but frankly you two take the biscuit: you really do. What on earth do you imagine that people will think when they see such an untidy looking pair as you two sauntering around half naked?"

Remember now, the "gravity" of the boys' offence was that they were not wearing their caps; that was all. It was, of course, a breach of school rules, but mountains have regularly been built out of molehills and by his absurdly theatrical performance, Patrick managed to make them feel as if they had committed a capital crime. Drew and Bristow, for those were the names of the two boys, wilted visibly under this verbal onslaught. But what could they say in their own defence?

So Patrick went on with his verbal invective: "Well, you two god-forsaken specimens, you don't have much to say for yourselves, do you? So, the pair of you: Friday night at eight sharp, at the Prefect's Court, when we shall see if we can set you on the road to correct behaviour. And remember to arrive wearing the correct attire for the occasion: gym shorts and gymslip and no underwear!" Having given the two boys their "sentence", Patrick heaved an internal sign if relief. He had attained his quota and his own arse was out of danger.

The Prefect's Court had decided unanimously several years ago that the owners of the arses comprising its Friday night "catch" should present themselves for punishment in their gym kit to facilitate the naked access to the target parts of their anatomy. This practice had been promulgate by the Court several years earlier but had been adopted enthusiastically by every Court since then.

And the Rigby system of junior and senior prefects assured the continuation of tradition within the Court, for the juniors who became seniors in their final year were already fully indoctrinated into the traditions of the Court. There was no doubt about it that once elevated to the rank of prefect, a boy's perspectives and attitudes towards his erstwhile classmates, from which group the himself had been selected, changed radically.

In general, it was safe to say that the prefects were extremely enthusiastic upholders of the school rules. Catching miscreants ensured that they could indulge in a pastime which pretty well all of them quickly came to enjoy: beating naked arse! In fact, an acute observer might have observed that the elevation to the rank of prefect in the Rigby School system, gave a boy a degree of power over his classmates which bordered on the abusive. In microcosm, the Rigby system was an illustration of the maxim "Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely."

But that was the way things worked at Rigby. Outside of the classroom, the Court of Prefects' word was law. They seized upon even the most minor infraction of the school rules to inflict excessively severe corporal punishment on the perpetrators. And the extraordinary fact was that the boys being punished accepted their fate as being part and parcel of the system. Checks and balances: forget it!

It may sound incredible, but Patrick, who in his earlier years had been a serial offender and had been beaten times without number both by the Headmaster and the prefects, had, in fact, in recent times never been summoned to the Prefects' Court. And so, it was on the first Friday meeting of the Court that term that Patrick, now a prefect himself, arrived at the prefects'common room early, to find that the evening's "catch", including his two nominees already lined up at the door awaiting the order to enter.

To Patrick it looked like being a good evening as there were no less than eight boys in their gym kit waiting to enter. He was surprised to see that the Prefect's Court was formally arranged around a table at which the Head Boy, Meakin was already sitting as President of the Court.

"Ingram-Lewis, welcome to your first Prefect's Court," began Meakin. "You are to be congratulated as a newcomer on your contribution of no less than two eminently acceptable backsides to this evening's session. Just to put you in the picture as to how we handle things. All the miscreants are brought into the room together and have to stand against the wall with their hands on their heads, and watch as each of their school fellows takes his punishment."

"The lucky lads, or perhaps better put, the unfortunate miscreants, are punished in date order. So those assigned to the Court at beginning of the week are thrashed first and so on. Where two or more boys are caught breaking a school rule together, then we thrash them together. That is to say in the case of your two citations, they will be put across two chairs together and two of us will then proceed to apply the cane to their naked arses simultaneously, to the count of another prefect.

We think that this heightens the drama of the whole occasion and brings home to the boys being beaten that they were partners in crime, so to speak. And so, this evening, you will beat one of your referrals and you may nominate any other of your fellow prefects to beat the other boy alongside you."

"Now, in certain cases of a severe breach of rules, irrespective of who made the referral, I myself intervene and administer the cane, as I alone am authorised to give up to twelve cuts. So, as you can see, Ingram-Lewis, this is quite a formal occasion and brings home to those of our school fellows we are correcting, the serious way in which we, the prefects, take our role in maintaining order out of class time. And so, Ingram-Lewis now that you are conversant with our methods I think that we can invite our unfortunate friends to enter and get on with tonight's proceedings."

The eight supplicants entered and lined themselves up against the wall, hands on heads as bidden by the Head Boy. "Geoffrey Merton, step forward and stand in front of the desk," intoned the Head Boy. "Merton, you were caught smoking a cigarette in the changing rooms. As you know, this is viewed very gravely by the Headmaster and if referred to him you will most certainly be birched. However, as this is your first offence of this kind, we have decided to be lenient and deal with the matter here and now. I shall personally have the unpleasant (he actually meant, pleasant) task of beating you myself, as this offence merits twelve cuts."

Poor Merton blanched at the thought of what what was about to happen to him, as The Head Boy's skill with the cane was legendary. Remember we are in the third term of the school year and Meakin, the Head Boy had been exercising his caning arm for five terms already, three as a junior prefect and two as Head Boy.

In fact he had become somewhat of a caning legend, for no one was considered his equal, not even the Headmaster himself. A beating by Meakin was just about as bad as it could get: the most excruciatingly painful experience imaginable. And here was Merton about to suffer twelve vicious strokes for what he had just been told was a lenient punishment. Merton looked nervous, but then who would not have knowing that he was about to have his naked arse roasted; but he said nothing.

"Right, then Merton, step out of your shorts, bend across the back of that chair in there and present your naked arse to me for treatment," said the Head Boy. Merton hesitated for a moment but was immediately urged on by the Head Boy: "Come on Merton, get a move on; we've not got all night and we have a lot to get through," he concluded, throwing a meaningful glance at the waiting line-up. With Merton finally in place and his arse presented to the Head Boy's satisfaction, he picked up a senior cane and proceeded to give Merton's buns a text- book thrashing.

Patrick watched in sheer admiration as he saw Meakin, for the second time in a few days, lay on stroke after stinging stroke in neat parallel lines across the full width Merton's arse. He enjoyed the sound of the cane as it cut into Merton's muscular buns, creating furrow after furrow, which turned red and then blue. It was clear that the pain achieved by the Head Boy with the senior cane greatly exceeded that that which he had inflicted on the miserable Tomlinson the other day.

Merton, to his great credit, maintained complete silence through the entire onslaught (there is no other word to describe it) but but when he finally got up from his beating, pulled back on his shorts and resumed his position in the row of waiting supplicants, his face was full of tears. The others waiting their turn had winced at each stroke, but punishment was punishment and they all accepted it with no ill will towards the prefects.

However, it has to be said that Merton was the object of immense admiration, not only from the waiting boys, but also from the prefects, for Merton and exhibited that quality which they all admired tremendously: at the end of the day, Merton was a true gentleman and had behaved as such; he had exhibited that much admired quality, the stiff upper lip. He had broken the rules and taken his punishment but there was now no sign of rancour. This may sound strange today, but such was the attitude among the British upper classes at the beginning of the twentieth century: the end of Victoria's long reign.

"Christopher Drew and Colin Bristow, step forward you're next. Now we have to thank our new member, Ingram-Lewis, whose vigilant eye caught you breaking one of the most commonly broken rules: going out without your caps. This, as you both know, is always punished by six and in your case, as you are now both fourteen, six with the senior cane. So, step up to the two chairs the pair of you, shorts down and let's be seeing what your backsides look like and what sort of picture we can paint on them."

We should perhaps describe how the two boys were to be beaten simultaneously. The two chairs had been place in the middle of the room, seat to seat, with a boy bending across the back of each chair, so that the two lads were in fact facing each other.

"So, Ingram-Lewis; this is your maiden appearance at the Court to which you have most commendably sent two young tearaways for its attention: so, whom would you like to nominate to help you in this double caning?" asked the Head Boy. "I am sure anyone of us will be delighted to perform the task and exercise his caning arm on your behalf. So, who is it to be? But remember that you must choose a senior prefect, for these two young delinquents are going to be given a good taste of the senior cane."

"Well, Meakin, thank you very much; I would like to ask Ashton, if he would care to help me and perhaps you yourself would do me the honour of calling the strokes: six in total, I think."

So Patrick and Ashton each picked up a cane and stood over the naked arse of one of the boys: Patrick took Drew and Ashton, Bristow. It has to be said that both lads had arses which were just asking to be caned: well rounded muscular buttocks, with no other recent "attacks", provided perfect fields for the two prefects to exercise their skills. So Patrick and Ashton stood more or less facing each other as each was right handed and that was the best way to address of each target.

On a nod from Patrick, the Head Boy called out the first stroke and both canes descended in perfect unison to land with a resounding thwack across their targets. Both boys were less stoic than the admirable Merton and let out howls of pain.

The Head Boy waited several seconds to let the impact of the first stroke sink in and then said: "Two". And so it went on from there. The highly experienced Ashton laid on his six in strictly parallel lines. Patrick tried to emulate him, but this was his first effort and a public one at that; with the senior cane his cuts were not quite as uniformly distributed. But he managed to deliver a good stinging caning to Drew's arse, and when the two lads were finally got up they were both in tears.

And so the Court continued its beating trajectory, as boy followed boy and one naked arse after the other was thrashed. Patrick who had never experienced anything like it, was in seventh heaven, he realised that he absolutely adored beating naked arse. It gave him a sexual high; so much so that by the time it was all over his underpants were soaked with his cum and he could hardly keep his cock in his pants, so hard was his erection.

But looking around at his this co-perfects he saw that he was not alone. It had to be admitted that the beating naked young men's bare buttocks was a very exhilarating homoerotic experience.

The evening was, however, not yet over; the Head Boy suddenly raised his hand for silence, walked across to the door, which suddenly pulled open. Two young boys, clearly first formers, virtually fell into the room; they had clearly been eavesdropping at the door, trying to find out what was going on. One was the ubiquitous Tomlinson and the other a boy called Parker, The Head Boy clearly knew them both and said: "Tomlinson, Parker, what can we do for you two this evening? What exactly were you doing there standing at the door?"

There was a brief silence whilst both lads tried to think of something to say to excuse their eavesdropping and it was, of course, the ever inventive "I don't like strong stewed tea" Tomlinson, who ventured another unlikely explanation for their misconduct: "Well, Meakin, it was like this we were just going along the corridor when Parker's shoelace came undone and he just leaned against the door to support himself whilst he re-tied it."

"And what were you doing propping yourself up on the door, Tomlinson? Was one of your shoelaces also undone?"

"Oh no, Meakin, I was just leaning there to help support Parker, whilst he re-tied his lace; so that he wouldn't fall over, you see, Meakin; I was actually just helping him."

"Yes, I do understand. Tomlinson; it was most noble and considerate of you to help our friend in need. But you know Tomlinson, I may be a bit thick right now, but how do you explain the fact that you were tying or helping to tie shoelaces when you are both wearing your bedroom slippers? Just explain that to me, would you Tomlinson; no doubt, as ever, there is a rational explanation to this unlikely act; or could it be, Tomlinson that your slippers are, in fact, a mirage and that you are both wearing shoes, or am I imagining things when I think that you may be wearing slippers in order not to disturb us at our appointed task? You know, Tomlinson, I see a great literary future for you as a writer of unbelievable tales. I can see the book now: Tomlinson's Tall Tales."

Tomlinson, as ever unable to keep quiet said: "Do you really think so , Meakin? I never ever thought about that."

"Tomlinson, not only are you an serial breaker of the school rules, an inveterate liar and a teller of the most unlikely tales, but you are an utter twit to boot. You know, Tomlinson, I can think of no arse I enjoy thrashing more than I do yours. You, Tomlinson, have a backside on which the words "Thrash me" are written large."

Parker was now getting increasingly nervous and could see by now what a mess Tomlinson had got them into and said: "Well, truth to tell, Meakin, we were wondering what actually happened at Prefects' Court and that is why we were listening at the door. So now that you know the truth, if it is all right with you, could we please go back to our dormitory as it is nearly lights-out time for first formers and we are not allowed to out of bed."

"Don't worry your little head, Parker, about lights-out. We shall see that you get to bed on time; but as you are here we shall also satisfy your curiosity about what happens at Prefects' Court." And with that Meakin motioned the two boys to enter the room, at the same time indicating to Patrick that he should put the two chairs in their central position, ready to accept the two boys.

"Well, boys, now that you are in the Prefects' Court, just look around you. You see that line of boys in their gym kit, over by the wall; well, they have all just been beaten by us the prefects to correct various misdemeanours which they committed during the week. That is what we do on Friday nights at Prefects' Court: we correct the misdemeanours of errant boys by beating their arses."

"Now you two, miserable specimens of humanity, allow me to tell you that gentlemen do not eavesdrop. It is a very a grave misdemeanour, which has to be corrected. But fortunately you are in the very place for that correction to be applied. So no arguments; drop your trousers and underpants, the pair of you and each bend across the back one of those two chairs and present your naked arses to me for inspection. Ingram-Lewis, if you would be so kind as to help me correct this odious pair. I suggest you take that miserable liar, Tomlinson , with whose anatomy you recently familiarised yourself and I will explore the unknown delights of what Parker has to offer."

Meakin and Patrick then went ahead and with six cuts of the junior cane, reduced the two boys to snivelling, whining wrecks. "Parker, you may get up up, pull up your shorts and join the line against the wall, As for you, Tomlinson, stay exactly as you are, for I personally intend to give your miserable arse some further attention, You Tomlinson are a serial liar and we do not like liars in this school. The cuts you have just received were your punishment for eavesdropping. Now you, and you alone, Tomlinson , are going to pay the price for lying yet again."

"The only regret I have on this occasion, Tomlinson, is that your age does not permit me to use the senior cane on your backside, so I shall just have to do my best with the tools to hand. Ingram-Lewis you would kindly stand aside and allow me access to Tomlinson's arse, I will I have the doubtful pleasure of trying to teach him yet the same lesson as I did previously; that lying does not pay."

When it was all over and the boys who had been punished and the prefects had dispersed, Meakin looked at Patrick and said: "You know, Patrick (note the intimate form of address which presaged what was to follow) you look as though you need some stimulation yourself. You did very well indeed this evening at your first Prefect's Court and if you wish, I will try and give you a few tips as to how to improve our stroke, It's all in that final flick of the wrist, which makes the difference between a good and a great caner, And you have all the makings of a truly great caner, let me tell you. Patrick if you feel like a little relaxation with me before we go bed, just say the word. Me, not to mince words, I could do with a really good fuck before going to bed; so how about it?"

Of course, Patrick needed no further invitation and he and Jeremy went off togeter to Jeremy's study, where behind a locked door they released their mutual tensions by fucking each other. This was the second time that they had enjoyed each other's company and Patrick was much more relaxed. Suffice it to say that Patrick finally came away and went to bed feeling sexually very satisfied; he had had the greatest homoerotic experience ever, in taking part in the Prefects' Court and had then gone on to an equally delightful bout of anal sex with Jeremy: a perfect ending to a perfect day. He really felt that he had found his way in life.