The Ingram-Lewis Chronicles

Back at school, Gee-Gee busied himself with preparing for the new school year. In particular in perusing the school supplier's catalogue, he came across a highly recommended new cane, made from a different species of bamboo, which was claimed to be more flexible, heavier size for size than the normal rattans and capable of delivering a really stinging experience to an errant backside. He promptly ordered half a dozen as a sort of compensation prize for his abortive holiday and he felt a lot better just at the thought of what it would be like to thrash some errant lads' arse with one. And when they arrived he found that they truly were different, which made his spirits soar. Unlike the normal school canes they were straight with no bent handle, but were supplied with a well made wooden handle into which a cane could be fitted, giving its wielder a good firm grip. The new can was also very flexible and could be bent virtually into a full circle: it was a very promising implement and Gee-Gee, who as you already know, was a great believer in corporal punishment, could hardly wait to try out his latest acquisition on an actual arse. And you can guess already whose arse was going to be accorded that privilege.

The great breakthrough in Gee-Gee's monotony came late in the day on of the very first day of term. He was sitting in his study reading through the files of the new boys when his bell rang. He pressed the "enter" sign; the door opened and a tallish boy, clearly one of the new entrants that term, for he did not recognise him, entered. He was holding in his hand a punishment slip. Here a word of explanation is needed. In the lower school where boys aged eight to ten were taught, the masters were allowed to administer corporal punishment to the boys directly with a light cane applied across the trousers covering the miscreant's buttocks. However, in the upper school, where our little drama is unfolding, only the Headmaster in the form of Mr Inkpen wielded the cane, a task he did with great vigour and considerable relish. And here the dreaded cane was always applied to a boy's naked arse; bare bum caning as the boy's called it.

Any master wishing to punish a boy, filled out a small punishment slip, which the unfortunate recipient had to take to the Headmaster's study at the end of each day, before evening preparation, (that's the boarding school equivalent of homework, by the way) when under the "strike whilst the iron is hot" maxim, the boy in question had his arse well and truly roasted by the Headmaster. It was, for Gee-Gee, one of the highlights of his daily routine, for there was nothing which gave him greater satisfaction than beating a boy's butt. He thought of it as "correcting" the errant recipient, but it was a task which he truly enjoyed: one which gave him a certain sexual high. But he was somewhat surprised to see a candidate for his cane present himself at the end of the very first day of term and an unknown new boy to boot.

Gee-Gee looked balefully at the boy, bade him stand in front of his desk, put his hand out to take the punishment slip and said: "And who might you be, young man? I don't seem to have had the pleasure of your acquaintance."

"I'm a new boy today, sir, Cedric Oliver Ingram-Lewis, sir."

"Oh yes, Ingram-Lewis, I've just been reading your file. It's right here on my desk as a matter of fact. Now, why are you here this evening on your very first day a school presenting me with a punishment slip? You do know what this slip of paper means, I presume? In case you are in any doubt, Ingram -Lewis, it minas that the master who gave it to you thinks that you deserve to be punished for some misdemeanour committed in his presence. You do know that I suppose, don't you? Well, boy, let me see what he slip says and who gave it to you."

Gee-Gee carefully read what was before him, leaving Oliver standing there trembling, wondering what was going to happen next; he was soon to find out. He had already been told by several of his new classmates, who had come up through the junior ranks and were already familiar with the ways of the school what would very likely happen to him.

"I see Ingram Lewis, that this punishments slip was given to you this morning, your very first morning in this establishment and indeed in your very first class, by Mr Turner who was endeavouring to familiarise you with certain elementary facts of mathematics. He says you refused to do the work, Indeed, he says that you finally tore a page out of your exercise book. Moreover you were insulting to him. Let me tell you here and now Ingram-Lewis that such behaviour is not and never will be tolerated in this school and Mr Turner was quite right to refer you to me for punishment. Are you aware of how I punish miscreant boys like you Ingram- Lewis? Probably not, I suspect, so let me explain to you what happens to boys who cross this threshold with a punishment slip; I beat their bottoms with a cane and let me tell you when I beat a boy, I beat him hard so that he knows that has been beaten. Make no mistake, young man; he leaves here with a very, very painful bottom."

"Oh please sir, don't beat me. I don't want to be beaten. In fact, sir, I don't think that I could stand being beaten and, sir, I don't think my father would approve either. And anyway, sir, it is my first day, and I am a new boy and I think that you could let me off, just this once and I will promise to be good in future and not do it again"

And so he babbled on, but all these entreaties fell on stony ground, for Gee-Gee could well have inscribed the legend from Dante's Inferno above the door: "Abandon hope all ye who enter here." No boy, arriving with a punishment slip, ever left Gee-Gee's study without a sore arse.

"Allow me to dissuade you, Ingram Lewis, from the mistaken impression you clearly have of your father's thoughts on this matter, for I have a here, in your file, a letter from him. Just listen to what he says."

"My son, Cedric Oliver, has been mollycoddled all his life up to now by his mother and grandmother and educated at home by a private tutor, which in my view has been a great mistake. The three of them allowed my son to run wild in a discipline free environment, whilst I myself was away on active service in the Royal Navy. I blame myself for having allowed his mother and grandmother to persuade me that a private education was best, which, viewing the results to date, is clearly not the case. As such you may well find that it will be difficult to make him toe the line when he arrives at Rigby Court, so do not hesitate to give him a sound thrashing, indeed, possibly several sound thrashings, to bring him into the real world. I am myself of the opinion that a sore backside never harmed a boy, so do not hold back if you feel it is necessary; just give him a good hard beating. As you are aware, I am myself an old boy of both Rigby Court and Rigby School itself and I know that both establishments maintain rigorous discipline in the old fashioned way, which has my entire approval. So, Headmaster, if needs be, take a cane to my son and knock some sense into him. You have my complete confidence and blessing in your task."

"So, Master Ingram-Lewis, what do you have to say to that? Ingram-Lewis, when a boy enters my study with a punishment slip, then he is always, I repeat, always, beaten immediately. You are no doubt familiar with the saying: "Strike whilst the iron is hot." Well, Ingram-Lewis, that is a saying which I take very much to heart, which is why any boy handed a punishment slip during the day has to see me that same day, immediately after the last class, when I administer the punishment. And the punishment, as I have already told you, is a beaten bottom. As for letting you off as you are a new boy, that is out of the question. If a boy, you in this instance, oversteps the mark, then he is punished, no matter how long he has been in the school. I am a great believer in another saying: "Give a boy and inch and he will take a mile." And so, Ingram-Lewis, I never, ever let any boy, and that includes a first day boy such as yourself, take that first inch. So, Ingram-Lewis now that we have got all that cleared up, I suggest you step up to that chair, drop our trousers and underwear, bend across the back of the chair and present your buttocks to me for punishment."

"Oh, please sir you're not going to beat my bare bum, are you? I don't think that I could stand it sir, Please, sir, have a heart. You know sir, I have never been caned before and I don't want to be caned now, sir."

"Ingram-Lewis, I do have a heart; but frankly, the way you are going on is making it feel very stony at the moment: very stony indeed. So, be a good lad and do as I say; drop your trousers and underpants and bend across that chair. And yes, Ingram-Lewis, I am going to beat your bare bum, as you so picturesquely put it. In this school I beat a boy's backside, not his trousers. Now Ingram-Lewis; for the very last time; pants and underpants down and over that chair as I have now told you several times. Just do it, lad, there is no way out. And, Ingram-Lewis, to stop you bleating on anymore, I can tell you that it will hurt; in fact it will hurt a lot, for that Ingram-Lewis is the object of the exercise. And as for it being your first time; well there has to be a first time for everything and today is the first time that your backside is going to feel the tonic effects of the cane. In fact Ingram-Lewis we are about to celebrate, for it's going to be your first caning, on your first days at school, on the first day of the new school year, with a brand new cane which I shall apply for the first time to your buttocks. And you will be the first boy to be caned this year. So, there you are, Ingram- Lewis, this truly is a very special occasion."

Poor Oliver, although I am not sure that we should call him that, as he clearly was a handful to manage, finally obeyed, dropped his pants and underwear and we find him as described at the beginning of this story, with his bare arse being gently tapped by the cane wielded by the Headmaster. Now Gee-Gee always savoured the moment he was about to thrash a boy's arse, which as we have mentioned already, was his favourite pastime. Looking at Ingram-Lewis's lusciously inviting posterior, it suddenly occurred to Gee-Gee that although the boy was only eleven, he was big for his age and could probably take the senior cane. So he stopped for a moment to choose a more potent implement with which to give Ingram-Lewis's arse its maiden trashing.

Finally the moment of truth arrived and the first stroke of the cane landed across the middle of Ingram-Lewis's buns. The boy let out a howl at the pain, for never had he realised just how painful the cane could be. And Gee-Gee was truly an expert at judging just how far he could go; how hard a blow he could deliver. He believed in caning every boy to the limit of his endurance and always tried to apply the maximum force, which would be excruciatingly painful, but which would never break the skin. There was never any blood when Gee-Gee wielded the cane, but no one could have delivered more pain than he did.

He paused between each stroke to allow Oliver to appreciate fully the effect of each individual cut and although Oliver implored him to stop, the strokes went on and on, evenly distribute in parallel stripes across both buns, so that by the twelfth stroke his arse was a neat picture of parallel stripes distributed across its entire surface. The pain was unbearable, yet had to be endured and the poor boy wept copiously. But then, given the expert beating he had just had, would any other boy have behaved differently?

The Headmaster helped Oliver up from the chair and said: "Well, Ingram-Lewis, for a first time you took that very well, very well indeed and I hope that you now know just how we deal with naughty boys as this school and what a painful experience awaits any boy who presents a punishment slip to me. I have been lenient with you today and I hope that I shall not have occasion to see you again this term."

If that was lenient, one asks oneself what a severe beating would have been like. But we have to remember that in the early part of the century, things were much harsher than they are today and Rigby Court was not alone in dispensing the sort of beating that Oliver had just undergone. One might have thought in view of the excruciating pain he had endured, that our friend Ingram-Lewis would have learned his lesson and mended his ways. But no! He was one of those boys who could not keep out of trouble and for the rest of the term he was a regular visitor to Headmaster's study, where like so many more before and after him he was regularly beaten. But he had not counted on what was to happen to him the end of the term, just before the school broke up for the long Christmas vacation.

It was three days before the end of term. The boys would leave for two weeks holiday at the end of the week. At the assembly that day, after the usual hymn prayers and daily announcements, the Headmaster paused and said: "I would like to see the following three boys in my study, after supper this evening and he announced three names, among which was Cedric Oliver Ingram-Lewis's. Eight o'clock sharp boys and I suggest that you wear your gym kit - no underwear necessary. You three young gentlemen (very ominous indeed!) and I have some very important unfinished business to attend to."

Well, you can imagine the feeling of panic which this announcement engendered in the three boys. The three were not at all friends and did nothing together. One was Duncan Phyphe, a Scot in his final year before moving on to Rigby school; the other, David Fairclough, was in his second year and our friend, Oliver was the youngest, just ending the first term of his first year. None of the three had any idea why they had been summoned but judging by the clothing they had been told to wear, it looked horribly like a beating was coming. But why? What had they done? And why these three? As you can well imagine all three spent a very uncomfortable and mentally unsettled day in their classes wondering what the evening had in store for them.

Eight o'clock saw them standing in front of the door of the Headmaster's study. The door was suddenly flung open and a severe faced Mr Inkpen beckoned them inside.

"You will, I am sure, all be wondering why I have brought you here tonight and I am equally sure that you are each saying to yourself that you have done nothing to merit punishment so why am I here in my gym strip. Well, gentlemen (always ominous) I will tell you why the three of you are here tonight. Each of you has been, in the course of his autumn term, a constant source of annoyance to your various masters, who have sent each of you to me for a beating a frequent number of times. You Phyphe, I have beaten no less than six times this term; you Fairclough, seven times and you, Ingram Lewis, the new boy, no less than eight times have I had to beat your naked buttocks in this very room. It is clear that you three boys are incapable of obeying the rules and are perpetually bent upon sowing disorder. I have therefore decided that the three of you each needs to be taught a very painful lesson and you are here this evening to be taught that very lessons: I am going to birch each of you. You Phyphe will receive ten strokes, you Fairclough, twelve and you Ingram-Lewis will suffer no less than fifteen strokes of the birch, as you are without doubt the most disruptive boy I have ever experienced. Look upon this beating as a final effort by me to make the three of you toe the line. So, all three of you: gym shoes and socks off and step out of your gym shorts. I want the three of you bare buttocks standing in line against that wall, with your hands on your heads."

The three boys gulped when they heard what was to happen to them. None of them had ever been birched before and they did not even know that the Headmaster had a birch rod. All was now revealed however, for opening off the Headmaster's study was a room into which no one had ever been until then. The door was now opened to reveal a largish room empty apart from what was clearly a professionally made birching horse, with straps to hold ankles and wrists in place on the frame, thereby immobilising the unfortunate recipient. On the side stood three buckets with the birch rods soaking in water. The three boys were totally petrified at this awful sight and could barely believe what they were about to undergo.

"I'll deal with you first, Phyphe," said the Headmaster. "Step over to the horse. It's known as riding the pony by the way, so you are to be the first to take a ride!" Phyphe moved slowly towards the horrible contraption until the Headmaster suddenly said: "Smart about it Phyphe; I've not got all night. Now, you Fairclough; show willing and just buckle the straps on to your miscreant friend's wrists and ankles and step aside. He'll do the same for you in a few minutes."

Once immobilised, Phyphe could do nothing but wait for the onslaught, which he knew was about to come. The Headmaster picked up one of the birch rods, an implement made of a number of twigs bound together to form a handle, shook of the water and then gently tapped the rod against Phyphe's arse. Phyphe trembled with fear as he waited for the first stroke, which came with a sudden swish and covered a good part of his buttocks as the twigs spread out. The first stroke was not so painful but as stroke followed stroke, each administered with maximum force by the Headmaster, the pain built up until it was totally unbearable; but unbearable though it was, the boy had to bear it. Finally, with his arse totally inflamed by the birch, the Headmaster undid the straps and told Phyphe to go and stand against the wall with his hands on his head and not to touch his ragingly painful arse.

"You next, Fairclough; fix the straps Ingram-Lewis and then go and stand by Phyphe and wait your turn." And so the three boys were very soundly birched. If anyone had told them that it was worse than the canings they had received during the term, they could have hardly believed it possible: but it was. Indeed it was easily the most painful thing that had ever happen to the three boys. How they slept that night, do not ask, for their arses were raging with pain. In fact some connoisseurs of the implements of corporal punishment rank the birch, which is always applied to the naked arse, as being worse than the dreaded cat of nine tails, once beloved by, but now banned from use, in the navy.

So could Cedric Oliver Ingram-Lewis look forward to a pleasant Christmas at home? Well, I wish I could say that he could, but he was fated to misfortune. He arrived back at Ingram House just before Christmas to find his father, Commander Patrick Ingram-Lewis home for the holidays. Now most boys would have been overjoyed to see their father who was so rarely at home, but not so Cedric Oliver, for he had never really liked his father whom he really barely knew and found him a formidably frightening figure. Cedric Olive had been at home for two days and it was December 23rd, approaching that "Time of good will and good cheer" but also, in the words of the ditty, "The time that turkeys fear." Well, Cedric Oliver was not exactly a turkey, but he had the same misgivings and felt totally ill at ease at home with his father around.

That morning a letter arrived by the first post, was opened and read by the Commander, who with a face as black as thunder, said to his son: "This is a letter from the Headmaster of your school recounting your appalling behaviour throughout the term. I thought that they would knock some sense and decency into you at Rigby Court, but evidently I was wrong. I will see you in my study this evening immediately after dinner and you and I will have a little chat. It really is time that you and I had a very serious talk, Cedric."