Regression

[smoothbum]

I go to a school for adults. We have to wear a proper uniform, sit at desks in rows and have proper punishments when we misbehave. One of the school's customs is 'pegging a beak' - that is, attaching a peg to a teacher's clothing. In the first lesson I pegged the beak. He did not notice for some time, but when he did he blamed the pupil next to me so I had to own up. He said: 'Thank you for being so honest' and ordered me to report to him at break. I had a real regression to being twelve years old. At school, my housemaster's assistant carried out most corporal punishment. He had been a National Service officer in the Rifle Brigade and did all the football and cricket coaching. We all worshipped him. When caning a boy he always tried to find something good about his conduct before he had to bend over for his four or six of the best - hard cuts, aimed at the same strip of flesh. We all tried to keep silent, to earn his respect. The teacher who punished me had the same mixture of strictness, gentleness, and courtesy. When I reported, he again praised my courage and honesty in owning up. Then I had to bend over a low wooden horse, bending really tightly so that shorts and pants were stretched across my bottom. He gave me six of the very best, really hard cuts aimed at exactly the same strip of flesh, so that I had a hard job to keep quiet. I got up rubbing my very sore bottom, while he said: 'That was very well taken. You're a brave boy.'

[col2001]

sounds like a well desreved sore bottom

but given very fairly