Initiation of Jay

                      Author : Jay Bee JBates3327@aol.com

In September of 1961 I joined the local scout troop. I had never been in the scouts before even though I was sixteen and a half at that time. The arrangements were made by Mr Foster, my landlord. He knew the Group Scout Leader, Mr MacKenzie, which made things easier. I don’t think they were too keen to have a senior boy join them. They liked their lads to sign up early on. Come to that I had really wanted to go to the local youth club. But Mr Foster was firm. I needed discipline. In any event the local club had a bad reputation at that time. There were reports of vandalism and some boys had been taking cars. If I wanted to meet boys of my own age it was the scouts, the army cadets or some other uniformed youth group. I settled for the scouts.

Mr MacKenzie summoned me to an interview. He didn’t live far from us, so one evening, after work, I walked round to see him. He was a tall, thick-set individual with the erect bearing of a guardsman. I later learnt that he had been a sergeant-major in the Scots Guards. He showed me into his living room where another man was waiting. He was introduced as Mr Simmonds the Senior Scout Leader. They asked about my background. So I told them about leaving home and coming to live with Mr Foster and his housekeeper. I talked a bit about my job as an office junior. I mentioned my interest in cooking and that at school I had been in the orienteering team. I said I was studying for a history `A’ level at the local college. There were some questions. Then I was asked to leave the room for a while.

When I came back Mr MacKenzie smiled and said they would accept me. However I would have to abide by the rules. He believed in strict discipline. Boys who caused trouble were punished. The wolf cubs got the slipper, scouts the strap and senior scouts either the strap or the riding crop. I was a bit shaken. Until I had moved to this town I had never been so much as slapped. However in seven months I had had three really good spankings. I got it from Mr Foster’s tawse and cane at home and from my boss’s heavy ruler at work. Now I was expected to put myself at the risk of more. Still I wanted to join the scouts and so, reluctantly, I agreed to accept their discipline.

The next issue was uniform. The cost of a new one was £23. I gasped. I couldn’t afford that. Even though my dad still sent me £5 a week, I had to put that in a building society. After paying rent to Mr Foster I had only about £3 spending money left. That had to cover clothes, bus fares and stuff like that. They were sympathetic. Mr MacKenzie left the room and came back with an armful of shorts, shirts and socks.

"Take everything off except your pants and try some of these on," he ordered.

I didn’t really want to but there was no help for it. I slipped out of my clothes. There was a pause while he sorted out what he thought might fit. I stood there in my tight, white pants shivering with cold. Luckily I had a good, slim, firm body so I wasn’t ashamed. Then he gave me a selection of things to try on. I must have put on several different pairs of shirts and shorts before he was satisfied. There was a nasty moment when in a rush I took my pants down with the pair of shorts I was trying on. My back was turned to him but he must have got a good view of my well rounded, white bottom. He may even have noticed the faint marks that Mr Foster’s tawse had made a fortnight ago. When we had a uniform that fit he allowed me to get dressed. He bundled up the stuff and gave it to me. We agreed that I would pay ten shillings a week for the next ten weeks to cover the cost.

Mr Simmonds then took over. He explained a bit about the Scouts. I would have to learn the Scout Law, attend the weekly meetings and do one weekend camp. If after that I was considered fit by the others I would be inducted into the troop. There was an induction for some other boys in November so it was hoped I could be ready in time by then. He mentioned that the other boys might also want to initiate me as I had not been a scout before. At the time I didn’t take much notice of that.

The next week I attended my first meeting. It was a bit strange. The Group met as a whole first. Then the different units split off. There were only eight other senior scouts. Their ages ranged from sixteen to twenty. It was a bit of a shock to look at Graham, the twenty year old who was taller than Mr MacKenzie, and realise that he was liable to the strap or crop if he messed about. They were friendly but reserved. They had a camp coming up in three weeks’ time so most of the evening was spent discussing that. We were going canoeing. I had never done that before. The cost was £5. I wanted to go but didn’t see how I could afford it. Luckily Mr Simmonds - known as Simmy - said I could pay in instalments.

The weekend was brilliant. I took naturally to canoeing. They guys relaxed with me and we had a great time. I made friends with the two youngest, Dave and Simon. We mucked about as boys will. We managed to get told off for having a water fight but otherwise nothing serious happened. I cooked one supper. It went down well. I think they were pleased to see that I could be a useful member of the troop. On the Sunday before we went back the three of us were sent to wash down the canoes. As we were working Dave said, "You’ve got your induction in four weeks time. You’ll get initiated after that."

I remembered what Simmy had said. "What does that involve?" I asked.

"We’re not allowed to say," Simon replied with a grin. "Anyway we haven’t worked it out yet. You’re the first senior to be initiated as far as we know. All the rest of us got it in the cubs or scouts."

"Well, what happened to you?" I wondered, beginning to get slightly worried.

"We both got it in the scouts," Dave said. "We had to stand on a chair in our pants, answer questions about ourselves and sing a song. Then we had to bend over for two with the strap and that was that."

"Yeah," Simon chipped in, "That wasn’t so bad. And they didn’t strap you hard. Enough to hurt but not scorchers. But we were only eleven then. For a sixteen year old it needs revving up."

I didn’t like the sound of that. The scout’s one seemed bad enough to me. I shuddered to think what a revved up version would be like.

"Anyway," Dave added, "Its not up to us. Graham and the other older boys will determine your fate."

In the weeks leading up to the induction day I got more concerned. I wasn’t helped by the hints the older boys dropped. I’m sure I was meant to hear Alec say to Graham, "No, not in his pants; in the nude." Why did Graham ask Mr MacKenzie if he could borrow the crop? By the second week in November, when the induction was to take place, I was more than a bit scared. I was beginning to dread Friday night.

The worry affected my work - both at college and in the office. At college I had settled in quite well. There were twelve of us taking the History `A’ level, including some girls. I wasn’t used to girls. While some boys bragged about their successes I kept quiet. I didn’t have any successes to boast about. I tended to stay away from them. To be honest I wasn’t that interested. There were two boys of my own age in the class, Colin and Neill. Colin was really good looking. I tried to make friends but he kept me at arms length. I got on better with Neill. When I started the course I got some high marks for my essays. The teacher, Mr Williams, was pleased with my progress. But as time went on my initial enthusiasm waned. I began to get Cs. That week an essay was marked D.

As far as work was concerned, I was the office junior in a small wholesale stationery company. I had had a bad start there. As a result I had got a really good spanking not just from Mr Jackson, my boss, but also from the three other men in the main office. To cap it all I then got the tawse and the cane from Mr Foster when I got home. After that my attitude changed considerably. I was still bored by the job but I made every effort to fit in. I worked hard. Generally my boss was pleased with me. He had even given me £10 extra to go on holiday with.

But at the start of that week things went wrong. At first it was little things like forgetting the typist’s tea or filing in an incorrect folder. I apologised for my errors and no one seemed to mind too much. It was on the Tuesday morning I made my big mistake. Mr Jackson came in with some letters for me to post by recorded delivery. They had to go off urgently. It was something to do with a new order. I put them on my desk, meaning to take them to the post office in a few minutes. Then Mr Timms told me to make them all coffee. I must have put the file I was working on over the letters. When I came back with the coffee there was an errand for me to run. I forgot all about the letters.

At 4.15 Mr Jackson came back and asked for the posting slips on those letters. I must have gone from white to red to white again in seconds. I suddenly realised what had happened. I picked up the file. There they were. He was furious. I raced to the post office. I was just in time. They took the letters and I got the posting slips. I anxiously hurried back. Mr Jackson was pacing impatiently. I gave him the slips. He told me to come and see him in his office at 5.15. I was to bring the ruler with me.

Only Mr Marshall, the clerk was left in the office by this time. I got on quite well with him. I told him my troubles. He wasn’t very sympathetic but shortly after he went into Mr Jackson’s room. I was left shivering. I knew what was coming.

At 5.00 Mr Marshall and Mrs Phipps, the typist, left for home. I went to the washroom and made sure I looked the best I could. Then I went back to the main office. I picked the 30 inch ruler up from Mr Marshall’s desk. It was about two inches wide and half an inch thick. It felt heavy in my hand. I knew from past experience that the flat would really hurt. The blunt edge was agony and left weals for a good two weeks. I sighed deeply and went to stand outside Mr Jackson’s office. He was on the phone. I worried about going in while he was busy. On the other hand he had said 5.15. I wasn’t about to get more for disobedience. I plucked up my courage, knocked and entered. He waved at me to stay where I was. I half listened as he talked about some golf match. Then he put the phone down and turned to me. I walked up to the desk and put the ruler on it.

"What have you got to say for yourself?" he asked sharply.

"I’m really sorry, sir," I stammered. "I didn’t mean to. I only put them down for a minute while I finished the file I was working on. Then Mr Timms told me to make coffee. Then I had to go to Arkwrights with an invoice. By the time I got back I just forgot about the letters."

"It’s lucky for you the post office was still open." He snapped. "If those letters had not gone off today we would have missed the order. This firm cannot afford boys who make mistakes like that. If you had failed to get to the post office in time this afternoon I would have sacked you. As it is I’m going to teach you that when I say that something is to be done, it is to be done at once. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir," I said helplessly. "Please sir, not too many."

"I know you’ve got your own worries at the moment, Jay" he replied, " But your job must come first. Mr Marshall told me about Friday. I’m afraid I can’t take that into account. If we had missed the order it would have been a severe blow to the company. While you are here you must put other things out of your mind. You will get twelve with the flat."

My heart sank. Twelve with the flat. It was better than getting the blunt edge, but not much. "Yes sir," I muttered, my eyes brimming with tears.

"Go over to the chair," he ordered.

In front of his desk there was a wooden office chair that was used for visitors. It also had another purpose. It was what I bent over when I was to be punished. I went over and stood to one side. Without being told I took my jacket off and placed it over the back of the chair. My hands automatically went to the fastenings of my trousers. I turned to look at him.

"Yes, take them down please."

I sighed heavily and undid my belt. I unfastened the button at the top. I pulled the trousers down to my knees and then pushed at them so that they fell in a puddle around my ankles. I turned and looked at him again, silently pleading with my eyes. He took no notice.

"Now your pants."

Reluctantly I took the bottom of my pants between my fingers. I tugged them down. They slipped over my backside, slithered down my legs and joined my trousers on the floor. I stood there shivering with more than cold.

"Bend over the seat of the chair. Get a tight grip on the base of each leg."

I did as I was told. My bare bottom rose into the air. I inched my feet as far apart as I could get them. Outside the room, in the street, I could hear someone laugh. It seemed as if they were on another planet. Minutes slowly passed. I shifted position. Then I heard a creak as Mr Jackson got up from the desk. I twisted round slightly and saw him pick up the ruler. He came to stand behind me and to the left. He lifted up my shirt tail and pushed it high up my back. He stood looking at me for a moment. Then he stepped back. I felt the cold wood of the ruler on my trembling bum. It lifted away and came back with a thwack that echoed round the room. I yelped at the shock and staggered a bit. He waited for me to settle down and then cracked the next one in. It landed near the top and stung like mad.

I started shivering with pain after the fourth. The fifth got me low down. I couldn’t hold back a gasp. By now he had systematically covered all of my bottom with the ruler. He started to work his way back up again. This was agony. The sixth hit the same part by the crease of my legs as the last one. I howled. Tears began to run down my face. I desperately wanted to get up. I knew I had to stay down.

The tenth ended back at the top of my seat. Once more I howled my sorrow. There were two more to come. Could I stay down? The eleventh cracked in really hard. It got me dead centre across both cheeks. I screamed and screamed again. I jumped up, my hands going back to my injured bottom. I begged him to stop. "Please sir, please sir, have mercy."

"Take your hands away and get down," he snapped.

Trembling with fear and shame I once more bent slowly over the chair. He waited until I was in the right position. Again the ruler rested on my now burning rear end. Again it lifted away. Again it cracked down hard, almost exactly where the last one had landed. I howled and sobbed and babbled about how sorry I was. He left me there for a while. Then he allowed me to stand up. I cautiously rubbed at my glowing backside.

"Get dressed." he ordered. I was happy to comply. When I was properly clothed I once more went to stand by the desk. I was still crying but the tears were beginning to dry. My hands massaged my rear end. I told him how sorry I was and promised to do better in the future. He seemed satisfied with that and let me go. I thanked him for the spanking and left the room.

For the next two days I managed to put Friday’s induction out of my mind while I was at work. But on Friday, despite my best intentions, I couldn’t concentrate. Mr Marshall noticed that I was fretting. He knew the reason. When I forgot to get him a carbon copy of a letter he ignored it and went and got it himself. Still I was lucky to get through the day without another visit to Mr Jackson’s office.

That night I had little appetite for supper. Mr Foster and Mrs Davies, the housekeeper, noticed. I think they put it down to the induction. They were nice to me and tried to put me at ease. They didn’t know what would follow the induction. Neither did I. I was also a bit upset that they weren’t coming with me. All the other boys would have their parents there. I would be the only one on my own. I hadn’t liked to ask them to come. For one thing a refusal would have really hurt. I was hoping they’d ask if I minded them going. But they didn’t.

After supper I got ready. I shined my shoes until they gleamed. Then I had a quick bath and washed my hair. Mrs Davies had ironed my uniform so that it looked really smart. I put it on and admired myself in the mirror. I brushed my hair, cleaned my teeth and checked to see that all my buttons were done up. I went downstairs. Mr Foster and Mrs Davies were watching television. I went into the room and asked if I looked alright.

"You look fine, young Jay," he smiled. "Off you go and don’t worry. You’ll have a good time. You can tell us all about it when you get back."

"I wish you were coming with me," I blurted out.

He looked away. "Yes, well. Another time perhaps."

Mrs Davies wished me luck. She said there would be cake and hot chocolate when I returned. Mr Foster came to the door with me. "I know that the other boys may want a bit of fun after your induction," he said kindly. "It may be a bit rough. It’s something we all go through. Just remember two things. First, it won’t last very long. Second if it is bad, just stare at an object on the wall or something and plough your way through. Whatever you do, don’t give up."

"Yes sir," I muttered, "Thank you sir."

"Go on then, off you go. Good luck."

I walked down the road. When I turned round he was still at the door. He gave me a wave. Shyly I waved back. Then I went on. My thoughts were reeling. He was usually kind, unless I was in trouble, but he’d never talked to me like that before. It was almost as if I was his son. As I drew nearer to the school where the scouts met my mind came back to the night’s ordeal. But somehow it didn’t seem as bad now as it had before. I went in through the gates and saw Dave hanging about.

"Thought you weren’t going to turn up," he jeered.

"What and miss the party afterwards?" I laughed, "No chance."

The Group used the school hall and its two gyms. The induction ceremony was to be in the hall upstairs. Then the parents would go to one of the gyms for refreshments and the initiations would start. When Dave and I arrived the hall was packed. I went up to Simmy who whispered last minute instructions. Before he finished Mr MacKenzie banged for silence. After a short speech the inductions began. After the new cubs and scouts had done their bit it was my turn. Inwardly quaking I stepped up to the flag. I solemnly recited the scout oath. Mr MacKenzie presented me with a Group scarf. I saluted the flag, saluted him and walked back to my place. I was a scout!!.

The parents were ushered out by the cub and scout leaders. Some of the mothers looked a little tearful but they went. When they were gone the only adults left were Simmy and Mr MacKenzie. The initiations started. First there were five cubs. It was all rather sweet. In turn each stood on a chair. They were asked five questions - one of which was `What do you call your teddy?’ They sang a verse of a song. Then in turn each climbed down from the chair and bent over. They got a tap with the slipper to remind them, as Mr MacKenzie had said, that they were now under discipline. When the last one was done Simmy took all the cubs downstairs to the party. Those who had been initiated were glowing in triumph.

It was now the scouts’ turn. There were six of them. As their names were called they climbed onto the chair. They had to answer ten questions. Failure to reply quickly and accurately meant the loss of an article of clothing. They all ended up in their pants. They too had to sing a song. Then they got down and bent over. They received two quite good whacks with a strap. One or two of them gasped with it. Then it was over. Mr MacKenzie took most of the scouts downstairs. That left me with all the senior scouts, the patrol leaders and seconds and, I realised with horror, no adults. The walls closed in.

"Alright, Jay," Graham smirked, "Get on the chair."

I had never really taken much notice of him before. He hadn’t been on the weekend. Now I took a good look at him. Tall, blond, blue eyed, muscular, he could have stepped off a poster for the SS. I remembered what Mr Foster had said and strode to the chair with an outward show of confidence I certainly didn’t feel. I climbed up and stood looking at the expectant faces below.

"Right," he went on. "There are fifteen questions for you. If you fail to answer quickly or get the answer wrong you take off a bit of clothing. If you are observant you will have noticed that when the scouts got down to their pants the questions became really easy. That isn’t going to happen for you. Do you understand?"

"Yes Graham," I answered, my voice not as steady as I would have liked it to have been.

"Right, first question, do you wank?"

What!! I was stunned. I just gaped at him.

"Time, right shoe off please."

Sullenly I bent down and took my right shoe off. I dropped it on the floor. This was going to be a lot worse than I had thought.

"Next question, what do you think about when you’re wanking?"

My left shoe followed the right. After six more questions I was down to my tight, white pants. The next question was dead easy. So was the one after that. I began to relax. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. I answered all of them without any trouble. Then he came to the last. "Which of us would you most like to go to bed with?" The bastard! If I gave a name I’d never live it down. If I didn’t my pants were history. Before I could decide what to do he said, "Time, get your pants off."

I paused for a moment. I could almost hear Mr Foster saying, `whatever you do, don’t give up.’ Gathering a deep breath I raised my hands to the waistband. I looked at him hoping for a reprieve but none came. So I straightened my arms and pushed them down past my knees. They dropped to my feet. I stepped out of them and kicked them onto the floor. I was naked. The eyes of sixteen boys focussed on one thing - my rapidly hardening cock. It was rigid within seconds. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I knew better than to try and cover myself with them. So I put them at the back of my neck. There were the usual rude comments.

"Turn round slowly."

I did as I was told. As my bum came into view there were gasps of awe. The marks left by Mr Jackson were clear. There was hardly a bit of my bottom that wasn’t black and blue. The outline of the ruler could be discerned on both cheeks. As I continued to turn Graham and a couple of the other older boys muttered hastily together. I saw Graham shake his head. When I was facing front again, my cock still rigid, there was silence.

"Tell us what that was for," Graham ordered. So I did. When I had finished there was another silence.

"Did you sing, for him?" Graham sneered.

I had to admit that I had.

"Well, now you can sing for us."

I had expected this. I had thought of doing a rugby song, but decided against it. I sang a verse of `Greensleeves.’ Let me tell you its not easy, singing a song standing naked in front of a group of boys, your cock swaying with the rhythm. When I finished there was sporadic applause.

One of the older boys handed Graham something. It was the crop!!

"It was decided that part of the initiation would be three with the crop. We didn’t know you’d had a good hiding. On the other hand that’s your fault not ours. We’ll leave it up to you. You can chicken out or take it."

Put like that I didn’t have much choice. I took a good look at what he was holding. It was a thin, whippy riding crop, covered in black leather with a black leather tab at the end. I shuddered in fear. It would really hurt. But what could I do? As Mr Foster had said it wouldn’t last long. And it was only three.

"I’ll take the crop," I stammered.

"Very well, get down from the chair, turn round and touch your toes."

I got down and bent over. There was a shuffling behind me as each boy tried to get a good view. Graham came up to stand behind me. He told me to straighten my knees and put my feet wider apart. Silently I obeyed. I prayed to every god I could think of that he wouldn’t do it too hard.

I felt the crop lightly touch my bum. Then it swung away. It whistled back and got me dead centre on both cheeks. Then, a split second later, the leather tab thwacked me on my left hip. It was agony. I just managed to choke back a scream, but gasped and shivered in pain. The gods weren’t listening today. I heard a few mutters behind me. The second was lighter. It still hurt but not nearly as badly as the first. I shivered slightly with the pain but stayed still. The third was a real scorcher. It whipped in just under the first one. The tab got my hip on the same place. My bottom turned into a sea of fire. I couldn’t help it. I sprang up and howled. Tears rushed to my eyes. I blinked most of them back, but some fell. Writhing in agony, I rubbed frantically at my burning bum. If my hands hadn’t been needed elsewhere Graham would have been on the floor with a bloody nose. As it was I confronted him angrily, careless of my bobbing cock.

"You bastard," I snarled, "I’ll get you for that."

Some of the others muttered agreement. Graham flushed and went quiet. Alec took charge. He sent the patrol leaders and seconds downstairs. This would be dealt with amongst us.

"Jay get dressed," he ordered. I didn’t wait to be told twice. When I was dressed I was going home. They could have their worthless scarf back. I was through. Simon came up and patted me on the shoulder. I angrily shrugged him off.

Alec turned to Graham. "You’ve always been a bully," he accused him. "I thought the hiding you got two years ago had cured you, but obviously not. Well we’re going to take a vote. If a majority agrees we will all ask Mr MacKenzie to deal with you again."

"We agreed to give Jay three," Graham said sullenly.

"Not that hard we didn’t and you know it. He was to have three light ones. The first was too hard and the third was well out of line."

A vote was duly taken. No one sided with Graham.

"Now," Alec said, "Do you want us to go to Mr MacKenzie or will you take four scorchers from the troop?"

Graham quickly agreed to take it from us. Given the size of Mr MacKenzie I didn’t blame him. The combination of his strength and that crop would have anyone howling in agony. From what I had heard he didn’t stop at three. Six was the minimum you could expect from him.

"Alright," said Alec, "You know what to do."

Graham looked for a moment as if he would walk out. Then he sighed and took down his shorts. His pants quickly followed. He bent over, touched his toes and straightened his knees. By now I was dressed and stood back to enjoy the entertainment. To my surprise Alec handed me the crop. "He’s all yours," he said.

I took the crop and flexed it with both hands. I looked at Graham’s round bum. It was surprisingly small for a guy of his height. But it was white, hairless and inviting. As I began to raise the crop a warning sounded. Graham was a lot bigger than me. He could beat me up any time. On the other hand he probably would anyway. I might as well enjoy the opportunity. I stepped forward and lifted his shirt tail up.

Drawing on what happened to me, I rested the black leather crop on Graham’s rear end. I realised at once why they did it. It ensured a good hit on the target. A devil rose up in me. I lifted the crop up a bit then brought it slowly back to rest. Graham drew a deep breath. He’d obviously been expecting the first scorcher. That was to come. I lifted the crop again. This time I drew it as far back behind me as I could, raising it up slightly. Then, with all my strength, I whopped it down on his bare bottom. It landed with a really good crack. Graham shivered with pain and writhed silently. As I withdrew for the second I could see the livid mark left by my effort. I landed the next one as close to the first as I could. Again, he shivered. A gasp of pain escaped him.

Then I hesitated. Did I really want to go through with this? What would the other guys think? I was the new boy. With a certain amount of regret I handed the crop back to Alec. He took it without hesitation; almost eagerly. Who, I wondered, had Graham been bullying? If it was Alec he certainly paid for it. He closed in on Graham’s upturned backside like a shark for the kill. In quick succession he landed two whacks that would have had me rolling on the floor. Graham managed the first but with the second he screamed as loudly as I had done. Honour was satisfied.

During the party afterwards Mr MacKenzie came up to me.

"Well, Jay," he grinned, " You must be the only boy in this group to have both had a scorcher with the crop and then given one on his first night as a scout."

"Yes sir," I managed, worried he was going to be cross.

"As a senior scout you may be in charge of younger boys" He went on. "There may be times when you have to punish them. I’m glad to know that you won’t shrink from that."

What could I say? "No sir," I said seriously.

"Good, well I’ll be keeping my eye on you."

He wandered on to another boy. Dave and Simon were going on about what had happened. I wanted to forget it. One of the Patrol Seconds passed by and mimed a howl. He nearly got a black eye. In spite of getting to whack Graham - who had left early - I still wasn’t sure I wanted to stay with the scouts. I made my excuses and went home.

Mrs Davies had gone to bed. Mr Foster was still up. He took me into the kitchen and got me some hot chocolate and cake. I told him about everything. He gave me a quizzical look.

"It’s not what they think that matters," he said, "The question is what do you want? You loved the canoeing. You like Dave and Simon. Are you going to let a silly little incident like this spoil all of that?"

"No sir," I agreed, "That would be silly."

"Off to bed with you then," he ordered. I went willingly. But as I drifted off to sleep one question whispered in my brain. Why, when he told me to go to bed, did I get a really strong impulse - swiftly repressed - to give Mr Foster a goodnight kiss?

Jay Bee, April 1 1998.