The following story is fiction about a British school type caning.  The story contains scenes of a caning.  This is a sequel to my Reply to Cousin Arthur which needs to be read first as does its prequel Dear Cousin Mordred by Plagosus who started this with a challenge on malespank.net.  If this subject is offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.  Again, my thanks to Plagosus for his guidance getting this into British English.

This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission.  Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.

The author would appreciate your comments – pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions.  Please take a moment to email.

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It was early on a Sunday morning and I was all dressed up in a blazer, dress trousers (not jeans) and even real shoes (not trainers).  I was not going to church or a funeral and certainly not to school which does not even know about uniforms.  I was on an InterCity train to catch some dinky small branch line relic so that I could visit my old cousin Arthur who lives in a sheltered accommodation complex in Nowheresville (a nice American term with the obvious meaning).

My cousin Arthur – really cousin twice removed – is sixty-four years older than I and was great friends with my grandfather.  Back in ’55 he wrote to grandpa but the Royal Post took sixty-four years to deliver that letter.  I wrote back and he, in turn, invited me to visit.

I’m looking forward to meeting Arthur.  Yes, just plain ‘Arthur’ because we are friends like he was with my grandfather.

* * * * * * * * * *

My first impressions were great.  I had images that Arthur would look like Methuselah with a long white beard, all bent over with a walking stick and the latest model ear trumpet from the NHS.  Fortunately I was wrong.  Although he is eighty-one-years-old he is in resonably good shape with his own hair and teeth and without a [walking] cane.  He greeted me most warmly with a firm handshake and took me to the garden where we could sit and talk in private.  He told me that “many of the residents are … busybodies.”  (Yes, he skipped the rude adjective.)

He is lonely as he never married and does not have children.  It has become rarer and rarer for those he considers his children, just like Mr. Chips had “Thousands of them … and all boys.”, to visit.  I guess men who are middle-aged don’t think about their former teachers any longer.  Sad.

What we soon discovered was our common subject was school.  He had two perspectives about it while I had just one.  We both found how things were different although most interesting.  How Latin has given way to computing and libraries to the internet.

In all honesty, the most fascinating topic was discipline – especially the cane.  Arthur has lived through and experienced all three states in his time – getting caned, applying the cane and missing the cane.  I knew first hand of only the last.  Although there was mention of the cane in books etc. I had only had one previous discussion about it and I was intrigued.  There was not anyone else whom I could interact with about this except my cousin.

We talked and talked about this even through lunch.  It was only then that he told me he still had his canes from when he was a master and would thrash boys like me.  I reacted to that like I had received an electric shock.  My dick had been half hard most of the time we were talking about all this and that made it stand up at full attention.  Fortunately, it was hidden by the table.

Arthur was most perceptive and could tell that my interest level had soared.  It wasn’t long before he offered to show it to me.  Need I say I jumped at the opportunity?  We went to his flat which was a small bedsit.  That the mini-kitchen was in a small cabinet that is smaller than a card table was amazing.  It was only a couple of minutes later that I had not just one but three canes in my hands for the very first time.  I was absolutely fascinated and my trousers were tented.

It was definitely a whole load of new experiences in just a few minutes.  Of course, I learnt that canes really could really be bent into a semicircle as I tested each different weight cane.  I cut the air and heard the swish while imagining being bent over and dreading the end of swish.  Arthur went even further and gave his bed a couple of cuts.  I almost jumped at those.

Arthur talked a lot about the incident he wrote about in that letter about how Gadget used a senior cane back then.  He noted that it was like his cane that I had just had in my hands.  I was hanging on every word and eventually Arthur gave me a metaphorical shove by asking “Should I put these away or isn’t your curiosity satisfied yet?”

He didn’t really give me a chance to answer before the next question.  “Are you ready to take the next step?”

It wasn’t long before I confessed that I wanted to satisfy my curiosity and be an errant public school boy of 1955 reporting to the headmaster.

* * * * * * * * * *

Arthur explained that I was too old for the junior cane and a bit young for the extra heavy one as I was inexperienced so it would be the senior cane that he would use.  After that we got into our roles.

As headmaster he gave me an absolutely scathing lecture about a schoolboy’s common misdeed of ‘disrespecting a master’ and decreed that I must suffer six-of-the-best.  I had very mixed emotions of fear, anxiety and expectation.  I dropped my trousers and I was about to bend over when he added that I should also lose my pants.  I pushed them down and bent over the big chair.

“Get that bottom up, boy.” he instructed and I did.  “Keep it that way or you will get extras, boy.” he told me.

Then I felt the cane on my bum for the very first time for he rested it there as he found his proper place.  Shivers running through my body does not really describe the feeling.  The cane moved.  I had barely registered the swish when a red-hot rod seared my bum.  I yelped.  All my instincts were to jump up and flee.

Fortunately I did not disgrace myself doing that but gritted my teeth and gripped the chair tightly.  I remembered how remaining in position and being stoic was required of all school boys according to all the stories I had read.  The head tapped the cane on my bum several times as the pain settled in and then there was the second cut.  It was worse than the first.  It took all my will power to remain in place.  I was rapidly developing a new understanding of what caning was really about.

Cuts three, four and five were, basically, more of the same but I was learning how to bear the pain and, happily, I did not disgrace myself.  Arthur had said he would decide how the sixth and last cut would be based on my reactions to the first five.

I yelped again for he changed from a horizontal to a diagonal cut making a gate.  It really hurt a lot more because of the crossings but I quickly recomposed myself.  After Arthur took the last picture of my fresh marks with my smart mobile, he told me to dress and to wash my face.  I’m sure that his eyes now had a sparkle that wasn’t there a few minutes earlier.

We talked for a little while before saying our goodbyes and I headed back to the train station to return home.  I stood for most of the trip home although the best time was in the loo where I had an absolutely fantastic wank.

I was quite the centre of attention in the showers the next day at school.

The End

© Copyright A.I.L. May 4, 2021

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