A Visit to a Boarding School

Author: Didaktos didaktos@geocities.com

Henry Fairbeard was a tearaway. He was seventeen years old. His father had left home when he was ten years old and he had spent the intervening years with no male control at home and little from his mother for, after her work to provide for the family’s upkeep, and her housekeeping and cooking, there was little time or energy left for anything else. Henry had made little progress at school and had left with no qualifications when he was sixteen. After then, he had drifted between jobs and was currently out of work.

He had now been out of school for almost a year, for it was summer and approaching the start of another school holiday. It was Saturday morning. Henry had been wandering about the town for half the day, enjoying the weather. Whatever else he did, he could improve his sun-tan and so was wearing shorts and a white tee-shirt. He had complained that neither his trainers nor his shorts nor his tee-shirt bore designer labels but his mother had told him that the remedy was in his own hands. Get a job and earn some money. After he had paid his share towards his keep, he could waste the rest on whatever he chose. She added that she could not see the point in paying through the nose for the privilege of advertising the brands concerned. He had tried to explain but it fell on deaf ears.

Not far from Henry’s home, there was a very exclusive boys’ school. Some of its pupils came from local homes but most were boarders. Henry had often seen them in some of their activities. It was a rugger school during the winter. That ruled out the possibility of Henry’s school playing the, even if the fact that they only played with schools of their own "class" had not. In the summer, of course, they played cricket, being always immaculately turned out in white flannels, white shirts and sweaters with the school colours for boarders and caps. The school ran an army cadet unit and prided itself on the number of its old boys who went on to Sandhurst and army commissions, often in the more prestigious regiments.

When the boys from the school went off the premises, they were normally in a smart and expensive uniform. Incredibly, in Henry’s view, including the wearing of straw boaters on their heads in the summer. This was an item which drew ribald comments from the local youths. On other occasions of recreation, the boys were allowed freedom in their clothing. Henry had seen them on some outings and in free time in the school grounds. Every expensive designer labels could be found among the boys’ leisure apparel.

As Henry went past the school, he saw people going in. There was a charity cricket match against a famous public school. He looked at the notice. There were a range of prices for different areas, with or without strawberry teas and other options. There was no-one at the gate checking tickets or taking money. Henry had never been in and this seemed a chance. He could have a look around, at least. In the end, a ticket or money might be demanded. If and when that happened, he could feign innocence and take his leave.

He went in with a small crowd, relieved that he was not too conspicuous. Some family groups included teenagers dressed as he was. They were directed by signs along the drive. Then there came the first parting of the ways. A sign apologised that there was no toilet provision near the cricket ground but that they was ample accommodation for both genders in the school buildings. He took the right fork to the buildings.

It was not difficult to find the Gents and Henry relieved himself. He also had a quick glance around. There was a cord across the corridor discouraging the public from going further. Just down that corridor, Henry saw a sign over a doorway leading to some stairs. It said, "Sixth Form Dormitories ONLY."

Later, bored by the slow progress of a cricket match made even more boring because Henry had no knowledge of or interest in either team, he decided that he would go home. He got to his feet and, when he reached the fork, decided to call at the loo again. Once relieved, he came out. The building appeared to be completely empty and curiosity got the better of him. He stepped over the guarding cord, a few feet down the corridor and through the doorway. Soon he was climbing the stairs to the Sixth Form Dormitory. At the head of the stairs, he saw a long corridor, over the one on the ground floor from which he had come. On both walls were a series of doors.

He went down to investigate. He opened the first door. Lying on the bed was a sight to bring envy to his heart. Clearly the owner had been indulging in some sort of recreation and had changed into uniform or cricket gear, depending on whether he was a player or spectator at the match. Scattered over the bed was tee-shirt and shorts which would have been the envy of almost every boy he know. On the floor, there were a pair of matching trainers.

The temptation was too much. He went in, scooped up his prize and came out. He went quickly along the corridor and down the stairs. It was then that it went wrong. Just as he reached the ground floor, several large members of the school appeared, in army uniform. He was grabbed and taken into a class room.

One of his captors said, "What do you think you’re doing?"

Henry replied, "I was just looking around and I saw them. I’m sorry."

Another said, "We’d better get him to somebody."

A third said, "Let’s make sure that he doesn’t get away. I’ve got some cord."

Henry found his ankles being tied together and his wrists secured behind his back. In the meantime, one of them had gone away and he returned with a master, also in army uniform.

The first one to question Henry said, "It’s lucky the exercise was called off and we came back when we did, sir. We found this fellow coming down from our dorms and he’d got Dunlop-Creamer’s gear with him."

The master said, "Very well. Coleman, you stay with me. I don’t think we’ll have too much trouble. The rest of you can go."

They went out and the master said, "What’s you name?"

"Henry Fairbeard."

"Have you any explanation?"

"You won’t believe me if I tell you. I didn’t mean to nick anything to start with."

"Try me. What is your explanation?"

"I came in to see the cricket. I’ve always wondered what it was like in here. Then I got bored with the cricket and I came out. I went to the loo and when I finished, I sort of wondered what it was like where the boys live. I went up the stairs to have a look. Well, this gear was lying on the bed in the first place I looked in and I’ve always wanted some stuff like that. I’m sorry. I took it. I know it was wrong and I’m sorry. Actually, I don’t think you’ll believe this either, but really, I’m glad I was caught except for one thing."

"What’s that?"

"You’re going to have to tell the police and it’ll really upset my Mum. I haven’t got a Dad now. I haven’t had one since I was ten and she’s done everything for me."

The master said, "Actually, you’re wrong."

"I’m not. Honestly, my Mum’s done everything for me. Dad just went off when I was ten and he hasn’t done anything for Mum of me since then."

"That wasn’t what I meant. You’re wrong, because I think I do believe you, both about being glad that you’ve been caught and that you went to explore and not to steal. I think I have an idea of how to sort this out."

He turned to Coleman and said, "Find Dunlop-Creamer and send him here. Don’t tell him what it’s about."

"Yes, sir."

He went out and the master said, "You’d better sit down and I can."

They sat facing each other across the large desk and the stolen goods went onto the floor on the master’s side.

The master said, "I’m Mr Coverdale. Sorry about the uniform. I have to play soldiers with the boys. Tell me about yourself."

"There’s not much to tell. I made a mess of school and I’m making a mess of everything else now."

"Would you like to do better?"

"Of course I would. I just don’t see how I can. I don’t stick at anything."

"You aren’t stupid, though, are you?"

Henry said, "I must be to have done a stupid thing like that."

"There might be other explanations. It must be difficult for a boy who has nothing to see these lads with everything."

"I don’t think I’d ever really thought of it like that."

He gave the matter a little consideration and then said, "Actually, I don’t think I ever thought of them as people at all. They were just the kids at the nobs school and we took the Mickey when we could."

"Quite. You do think and it could be developed."

Just then another boy came into the room.

Mr Coverdale said, "Ah, Dunlop-Creamer. When was the last time you were told that you had to leave your dormitory space neat and tidy?"

"This morning, sir."

"Who told you?"

"You did, sir."

"And what did I say would happen if there wasn’t an improvement?"

"You actually said that I’d have a striped backside, sir."

"Dunlop-Creamer, we have here a rather stupid boy. As an outsider he wondered what the accommodation was like. He took the chance to go onto your corridor. Your space is the first, isn’t it?"

"Yes, sir."

"And what do you think he saw?"

"Just a bed space, sir."

"Sadly, it was not just a bed space. What he saw was a heap of expensive leisure garments scattered round the room. He is being brought up by a mother alone. She is struggling to manage and can’t afford anything like that. What had started as a foolish journey of exploration turned out to be a temptation he couldn’t resist. It’s your fault that he was tempted. I can’t imagine that he would have gone diving into wardrobes and drawers to discover such garments."

Henry said, "I probably wouldn’t have done that but I don’t know I wouldn’t have looked. It’s not his fault that I nicked it, though. I knew it was wrong and anyway, I shouldn’t have been there. You’re going to have to tell the police, aren’t you?"

Dunlop-Creamer said, "You don’t have to tell the police, do you, sir? You’re right, sir. It was partly my fault."

Mr Coverdale said, "I really don’t think I can let it go and I can’t see any other way out of it. I don’t want to and I’d seize on any proper alternative. It wouldn’t even be fair to him to let it go completely."

"Well, sir. You’re going to have to whack me. If you do it now, he can see what it’s like and then you could offer to give him a caning instead of doing it officially. Actually, sir, that might be better for him. In a way, he’s a bit like me. I haven’t got a Dad. At least, I have but he’s not interested in me. Mum’s brought me up. The difference is that my dad’s coughed up the money for us and I’ve come here. It’s been people like you who’ve been my dad. If you cane him, he might feel about it a bit like I do. You know, sir. We’ve talked about it. He might need masculine control, like I do."

Mr Coverdale said, "How does the idea appeal to you, Henry?"

"I don’t want to be caned, but it’s obvious that I’ve got to be punished and that could happen without Mum knowing. I’ve told you. I’d give anything not to hurt her. It’s obvious that it’s got to be a tremendous whacking but that would be better than the police."

"Right. There shouldn’t be anyone in this area for at least an hour and it’ll only take five minutes. I’ll go and get a cane."

Dunlop-Creamer said, "Shall I stay and you can deal with me as well, sir?"

"You may as well. I’d better introduce you. The other lad is Henry Fairbeard. He’s not a boy here and so I should use Christian names if you want to."

He went out and Dunlop-Creamer said, "I’m Humphrey."

Henry said, "Pleased to meet you. Sorry I can’t shake hands. I’m sort of tied up."

"Do you want me to unfasten you?"

"You’d better not, thanks. I might be tempted to scarper and I can’t now. I’m sorry I got you into trouble."

"It’s my own fault. Forget it. It was my fault that you’re in trouble."

"It’s not. I shouldn’t have gone past that cord and I shouldn’t have gone upstairs and I shouldn’t have nicked the stuff. It’s my fault. How do they cane you here? Is it on the hands?"

"No. It’s across the bum. Actually, I’ve been wondering about it. The masters who can cane have a special piece of furniture. They call it a caning stool. I think they used something like it at Eton for birching. We kneel on it. They say it’s better for caning because your bum is lower than when you just bend over and so they can hit harder. As well as that, it’s easier to stay and take it. Mr Coverdale won’t bring a stool with him."

"I hope I can stay and take it. Will you hold me down to make sure that I do?"

"I don’t think you’ll need holding down, Henry. It’s the people who won’t accept that they ought to be punished who are the real pains about getting it. We had one in our form. Even when he was in trouble with a whole lot of other people and they all accepted that a whacking was fair, he was still explaining why he ought to be an exception. He used to try to duck and dodge. It always made it even worse for him as well. If you did dodge, the cane would probably still get you but it didn’t count. I’d be prepared to bet that he’d do that even now, if he had another. Don’t worry. It’ll hurt like hell, but you’ll take it like a man. I know you will."

"You don’t know me like I do, Humphrey."

"No, but I’ve heard you trying to take the blame and get me out of trouble. That’s what the best of our lads do, if it might be their fault. Lads like that always take it well."

"Will I be able to see you get it, so that I’ll know what to do?"

Just then, Mr Coverdale returned carrying three canes.

"Don’t worry. It will only be one at a time. These will probably be OK. I’ve had them a little time but my colleagues have mentioned that we have a duff supply at the moment and several have broken."

Humphrey said, "Henry wants me to go first, sir, so that he knows what to do. Is that alright with you?"

"Sure. The seats of the classroom chairs are about the same height as the stool."

Humphrey brought a chair into the clear space in the middle of the room. He lowered his trousers to below his knees and then knelt on the floor.

Henry watched Mr Coverdale aim carefully, take the cane well back and then drive it into Humphrey’s seat. He saw a quiver go though the boy’s body as a wave of pain shot through him. The cane was withdrawn and taken back. After a pause, it crashed down again. A third stroke and Mr Coverdale said, "Up you get, Dunlop-Creamer. I don’t expect it will teach you but it makes the point and six wouldn’t teach you either. Pop into my study and sign up for it later today."

Humphrey got to his feet, pulled his trousers up and rubbed his seat. He fastened his trousers and said, "Henry asked me to stay in case he needs to be held down, sir. I’m sure he wont, but shall I stay in case he needs some help."

Henry said, "I’d prefer it. It probably sounds stupid but Humphrey almost feels like a friend."

He stood up and said, "If I’m going to walk over, can you untie my ankles, please, Humphrey?"

Mr Coverdale said, "What about your wrists?"

"I’d prefer them to stay fastened until I’ve been caned, please. It’s a reminder that I ought to be a prisoner for what I’ve done."

Humphrey released his ankles. Henry walked across to the chair and said, "Humphrey, will you take my shorts down, please?"

Mr Coverdale said, "There’s no real need for that, Henry."

"There is. Humphrey had it on his pants. I shouldn’t have any more protection. If you cane people on the bare bottom, I ought to have that. What I did was dead serious, a lot more serious than what he did."

Humphrey started to unfasten Henry’s shorts and said, "It can be bare for very serious things. Is that what you want?"

"Yes, please."

"Stand by the chair ready to go down. You won’t be able to walk with your pants round your ankles."

Humphrey slipped his thumbs inside the waist band of Henry’s pants and pushed pants and shorts down together.

"OK. Get down, now Henry. I’ll pull your tee-shirt right out of the way for you."

Henry lowered himself onto his knees and leaned forward across the seat of the chair as he had seen Humphrey do. He knew that he deserved to be punished and he preferred this to the police. Surprisingly, he also felt that both Humphrey and Mr Coverdale were on his side. He felt Humphrey pull his tee-shirt right up and tried to get his secured wrists and hands out of the way. Now he could just wait.

At last there was the slight sound of the cane speeding through the air and the crack as it struck very firmly across both cheeks. He felt a surge of pain and he confirmed what he had seen, namely that Mr Coverdale knew how to use a cane. He clamped his jaws together, determined not to make a sound if he could avoid it.

He looked up towards Humphrey and said, "Can you just hold my wrists, to make sure that I don’t get in Mr Coverdale’s way, please. They’re probably OK but they feel as though they’re going too low."

Humphrey took his wrists and held them up. Henry braced himself for the next stroke.

Once again, he heard that slight sound and then felt the crash of a second stroke. Again, the pain surged out from that line and was powerful enough to force him to allow his head to be thrown slightly back. Suddenly, Henry was aware not only of the pain at his rear but also of the excitement at a nearby site. His willy had advanced from hanging limply and was already stiffening up.

Crracckk!

The cane struck again. That was three. Henry wondered how many. He knew that it would be more than Humphrey had received. This was confirmed as the fourth stroke landed. Once again, he made himself remain silent. Now he was also aware of movement at his wrists and then Humphrey said, "I’ve undone your wrists. It’ll be a bit easier if you hang onto something."

Gratefully, Henry moved his hands down and held the chair legs.

Crracckk!

A fifth stroke was successfully accepted. His behind felt badly bruised and he did not know how many more he could take.

Crracckk!

The sixth stroke landed. Again, Henry forced himself to remain silent. Now his preoccupation was much more of how he could disguise his throbbing masculine member when it was over. To his relief, he saw Humphrey move behind him as Mr Coverdale said, "That’s it, Henry."

Henry stood and quickly pulled his Y-fronts up. He rubbed his seat, pulled his shorts up and fastened them. He turned round and said, "I thought it would be more than that."

Mr Coverdale said, "We’ve got a rigid rule here. Only the headmaster may go over six and that is only for the most serious of offences and after getting parental permission. Mind you, that would normally be given because we’re at offences serious enough to merit expulsion."

Humphrey said, "Well done, Henry. You took that really well. A lot of our sixth formers wouldn’t have taken six on their trousers as well as that."

Henry said, "Thank you both for being so decent about it."

Mr Coverdale replied, "Forget it. Now, you’ve had a poor start. It’s not your fault entirely and probably not at all. I’d like to help if I can."

"How?"

"If you come along to see me this evening, say at half past seven, we’ll talk about all your problems and work out a way for you to do better than you are."

"That would be really great. Thanks. Some of the teachers when I was at school, used to say that I ought to be doing better than I was. Should I call you sir?"

"No. Think of me as an older, masculine friend. I think that we can achieve something between us."

Humphrey said, "Mr Coverdale’s the best we’ve got at understanding people who are mixed up. Mind, he might cane you if you screw it up."

"If I screw it up when I’m getting a chance like this, I deserve more than a caning. Wait till I tell Mum! She’ll be really pleased."

Humphrey said, "Look, Henry. Don’t be insulted or anything like that. You can keep that stuff that you took."

"I can’t. It’s yours."

"I know but it won’t be much longer. I’m getting a bit big for it and you’re smaller than I am. Besides, I might be mixed up and have problems like no dad, like you do, but we’ve really got lots of money and I’d like you to have them."

So it was that Henry Fairbeard was set of the path to reform and acquired two new friends. In spite of their differences, he and Humphrey established a close friendship and Mr Coverdale became a replacement father. That caning was the first that Henry had had. It was not his last.