The Ingram-Lewis Chronicles Pt. 02

And so off the see the Head Master, they went. Meakin made Tomlinson wait outside whilst he talked to the Head Master in his study: "Head Master, as I told you earlier, this boy Tomlinson is totally out control. I have discussed the matter with Ingram-Lewis, who tells me that he himself was much the same as Tomlinson; always in trouble, beating after beating to no effect, until one fateful day he was beaten one morning and then birched by you that same day in the late afternoon. He tells me he suddenly saw sense and decided to reform and the results are what we see today."

"Quite, quite, Meakin. It is quite true that Ingram-Lewis became a reformed character after that birching incident; I remember it well. Do I understand you to think that the same treatment, one thrashing on top of another, might help Tomlinson?"

"Well, sir, I am not an expert on the subject, but successive beatings throughout the term have clearly served no useful purpose, so perhaps a really thorough birching making Tomlinson wish he had never been born, might be the answer."

"I am inclined to agree with you Meakin. When do you think it should be done?"

"Well, sir, I have Tomlinson waiting outside your door, right now sir, so if you are free, why not do it right away? Tomlinson has no idea why I have brought him here, by the way. So, sir, why not strike whilst the iron is hot?"

"I agree; no point in wasting time once the decision has been taken. Let's take our friend Tomlinson to the punishment room down the hallway right now, get it over and done with and hope that it produces the desired results. Actually it falls well, as the gardener has just this morning delivered three fresh birches, which are soaking in water right now. They have to be fresh, you know, otherwise they break on impact. It's really a very, very painful punishment you know, Meakin: kill or cure, I'd say."

Meakin and the Head Master opened the door and told Tomlinson to follow them. The Head Master unlocked the door to the punishment room and ushered the boy inside. "Do you know why you are here, Tomlinson. This is the room where we birch recalcitrant boys, such as you. I have to tell you Tomlinson, that in view of your appalling behaviour this term, I am going to birch you right now, in an attempt to make you see sense and to teach you the have been this first term at Rigby."

"Oh please sir, please don't birch me. I've just yesterday had a severe beating from the prefects and I don't want another today. I could not stand the pain, sir, and besides, I don't think you should beat me again today, sir, and anyway, I don't want to be birched and I don't approve of it and it will hurt too much..."

The Head Master cut short this verbiage from Tomlinson; "Tomlinson, take off your trouser and your underwear and go and bend over the horse. Meakin if you would be so kind at to attach the straps around Tomlinson's wrists and ankles and see that he is comfortable." Comfortable!

Tomlinson was now trembling with fear and already in tears as he found himself strapped immobile to the frame, his naked arse protruding, waiting for the Head Master to begin. "Tomlinson, in my long experience as a teacher, I have learned that if a boy needs beating, there is no point in giving him half measure; it has to be painful to have any effect. And so, Tomlinson, I am going to give you fifteen very hard strokes of this freshly made birch rod. It will be very painful, very painful indeed, I think I can safely say; but it is for your own good. Tomlinson would doubtless have disagreed with this premise, but his view on this matter was not solicited. This, Tomlinson, will probably be the most painful experience in your life to date."

"If you are wise, you will see to it that it is not only the first but also the last visit you make to this room. But let me be quite clear, Tomlinson, if next term I need to take the birch to you again, I shall not hesitate to do so. Make no mistake, Tomlinson, the birch is always standing ready to deal with boys like you and I can tell you that I am a great believer in the old maxim: "Spare the rod and spoil the child." So, Tomlinson, you have been warned; your future is in your own hands. Now, Meakin, would you kindly call the strokes so that we know exactly where we are?"

And with that the Head Master proceeded to give Tomlinson's naked arse the thrashing of its life. The pain from a birching builds up and up as stroke follows stroke and quickly becomes absolutely excruciating; it is quite unlike any other form of corporal punishment, which is why it is so universally feared. Tomlinson was quickly reduced to a blubbering mess. After the tenth stroke, the Head Master paused, looked at Meakin and said: "Meakin I am rather tired, I would be grateful if you could take over from me and complete Tomlinson's punishment on my behalf."

Meakin could not believe his ears; he was being offered the chance to apply the birch to Tomlinson's arse: manna from heaven indeed! "Certainly, Head Master." He had almost added, "With pleasure," a sentiment he felt but which he refrained from voicing. Meakin gazed at Tomlinson's raw looking backside; the strokes from yesterday's Prefects' Court beating were still clearly visible and these were now being overlaid with a descant of fine bruises so characteristic of the birch.

It is the spread of the birch twigs which ensures that the whole of a recipient's naked arse can be brought to an unbelievable pitch of pain without doing any serious physical damage. And Meakin laid on the last five strokes as hard as he could; every stroke counted and Tomlinson knew it. These were, in fact the last strokes of corporal punishment of Meakin's school career as a few days later he would leave Rigby School forever and canings and beatings would be gone from his life.

It was an activity whose passing he would mourn, for it had taken on a vocational aura. Tomlinson finally got up from his punishment with an unbelievably painful backside. Anyone who has never experienced the birch himself cannot begin to comprehend what it feels like: it can be a life changing experience as it had been for Patrick and as it now turned out to be for Tomlinson, who the following school year was a reformed character.

The end of term was fast approaching and with it Patrick's first term as a senior prefect; in the next few days the boys would leave Rigby for the long summer recess. Patrick and Jeremy Meakin had their last sexual coupling as school boys before they each went their own way.

In the autumn Meakin was to enter Oxford as a freshman at The House, Oxford's largest college and training ground of several of Britain's Prime Ministers. Views were much divided on whether this was a good or a bad thing! Patrick was to return in the autumn to begin his last year at Rigby before moving on in life to pastures new. The two young men who had been physically so close whilst at school together, were never again to meet; such is so often the way of life.

As the last few days of term ran out, Patrick and his other regular sex partner, Roderick Pennington, grew ever closer. He and Patrick were much the same age and since that fateful day earlier in the term, when Patrick, as a newly appointed prefect had caught Pennington smoking, thrashed him and then gone on to fuck him, they had become very close friends and highly compatible sex partners. Patrick was relieved that Pennington would still be around for the next school year so that he would have one firm port of call in which he could dock his cock.

It was almost the final day before they all left to go to their respective homes. Patrick and Roderick Pennington were in what would be their last coupling before the holidays when Patrick suddenly said: "I say, Roderick, what are your plans for the summer? Listen, if you have nothing better to do, why not come and spend the month of August with us at Ingram House in Hexham. The countryside is magnificent in our southern part of Northumberland and as of the twelfth, the "Glorious Twelfth", the grouse season is open and we have some good shooting around us. We have two sets of Purdy's so I can lend you a couple of guns. So, old son, how about it?"

"What will your parents say about having me around for a whole month? I would not want to be a burden."

"Listen Roderick, my father is dead and I am in fact "The Lord of the Manor". My mother and her companion live there but I know that for the whole of August she is off on some sort of pilgrimage to Italy with a group of her friends and I know I am not invited - thank god, I might add. So, if you are free, do come and stay. We'll have a hell of a time together. All the staff will still be around and it's a very comfortable existence."

As both Patrick and Roderick were each only children, there were no obstacles on Roderick's side , so it was settled that Roderick would come for the whole of August as Patrick's guest. His parents were pleased that he had found such a close friend in Patrick, but I wonder if their pleasure would have been so great had they known of the close sexual bond that the two boys had developed. But they did not know and what the eye does not see, the heart does not grieve, so the arrangements were greeted with their approval.

Patrick himself was relieved that he would have a congenial companion for at least a full month; his sex life was assured by Roderick's presence, for he was sexually hot as Patrick himself. Patrick's only regret was that over the long vacation he would have no naked arses to thrash, for beating boys had captured his imagination and he truly enjoyed the eroticism of the act of applying his cane cane to boys' naked buttocks with the prospect of a post-beating fuck. He was already feeling the pangs of withdrawal, for his regular "correction" of his schoolmates, as he liked to think of it, had become like a drug.

So, arriving home at Ingram House in the early days of July, the only question was how Patrick would occupy his time for the rest of the month, while his mother and her companion were till around. But matters often have a convenient manner of arranging things for the best and the month of July turned out to be no exception: Patrick was not to be bored with his own company; far from it!

THE END