A Very Special School

Special deep birch buckets: Whilst we cannot supply the birch itself, for this must be freshly prepared and used within a few days of the cutting of the twigs, we do offer a special deep galvanised bucket, some three feet in depth, which enables a full birch rod to be thoroughly soaked before use. The ordinary household pail, so commonly used for this purpose, is not truly deep enough to give a totally flexible birch rod. Users tell us that the results of total soaking produce a much more flexible implement, with which greater pain can be visited upon the miscreant's buttocks. A full twenty-four hour soaking of a freshly cut birch is recommended to produce the perfect implement: the gold standard of all corporal punishment instruments used in British public schools.

From the various "accoutrements" (he just loved that word!) listed and lovingly described by whom ever had written the catalogue entries, he finally ordered the following items:-

24 Rattan canes

24 Rod in pickle canes plus two packs of five handles

7 Adjustable beating stools

3 Adjustable beating horses

6 Deep birch buckets

The Commander had already decided that all punishments would be administered either by himself or by one of the eight housemasters; the teaching staff would not be allowed to use the cane in any of their class rooms, but would, when required, fill out a punishment slip which would mean a visit to the Commander's study for the unfortunate recipient. He saw no reason to disperse the task of formal beatings across the entire staff, preferring to keep the overall control in his own hands. But he realized that between classes and in their free time, as well as in the gym and on the playing field, his charges would inevitably need disciplining, so he decided that each of the four housemasters should, at all times, carry a general purpose rattan cane for the administration of on-the-spot chastisement.

The Commander's official quarters consisted of a spacious office with another side room and its own bathroom. Beyond that were his private living quarters consisting of a large sitting room, a dining room, a kitchen, two spacious bedrooms and a second bathroom; all in all the Commander's quarters were, by any standard, generous. So he had decided to turn the room off his main study into a punishment room which he equipped with a couple of the adjustable stools and an adjustable beating horse. His thinking was, that as he truly enjoyed the process of roasting boys' arses, why deprive himself of the pleasure of leaving it all to someone else. He then added a rod in pickle set and a couple of the deep buckets specially conceived for the soaking of birches; he believed in maintaining all punishment options open.

He had realized that the senior housemasters of the four houses would also need the ability to beat errant boys "at home" so to speak in the housemaster's study. To this end he had decided to equip each study with a complete set of the rod in pickle package and an adjustable beating stool. Armed with that potent combination plus the normal everyday rattan cane, he felt that each housemaster would be well enough equipped to polish any errant arse which merited it. He had hesitated for a moment about the birch, but had decided that this, the most iconic and fearful of all implements, he would reserve for his own study and for the formal punishment room.

He had then designated one of the rooms of the school as the general punishment room and likewise equipped it in the same way as his own private room. However, after some thought, he had ordered two of the beating horses, feeling that it might occasionally be useful to beat two boys simultaneously; he felt that it added a degree of drama to the whole process of corporal chastisement, a process which, as you will all by now have appreciated, was very dear to his heart; the Commander was a totally ruthless martinet and as you have probably realized by now, was intent in moulding the housemasters into his own image! The Commander had then completed his preliminary preparations by adding a substantial quantity of general purpose and rod in pickle type canes to his order. When he had finished, he sat back and surveyed what he had ordered and decided that few schools would have the equal in disciplinary accoutrements, which he was sure and certain would find regular use. No point in spoiling the ship for a ha'porth of tar, he thought to himself, as he sat back, satisfied as he reviews his order.

Chapter 5

The one thing that was missing from the Commander's chastisement artillery was, of course, the birch rod itself. As the school supply catalogue had pointed out, the birch itself could not be ordered in the normal way like the rattan cane, but needed to be made regularly on the spot and used within a short time frame, before the the thin twigs used in its makeup dried out and became too fragile. He remembered the one occasion when he himself had been birched as a schoolboy, some thirty years ago. There were broken bits of twig littering the room after his beating was over and the master who had administered the punishment had used no less than two new birch rods in the course of a fifteen stroke beating; he still shuddered when he looked back on that occasion and the excruciating pain he had suffered. The pickle rod might well be painful, but the birch was a frighteningly painful implement which struck fear into every boy's heart at the thought that he might one day be on the receiving end of it; the Commander was really looking forward to introducing it to Moulton-Midmarsh.

Perhaps a word of explanation is needed about the birch rod, usually expressed in the singular whereas the "rod|" as it I known, is in fact comprised of a bundle of flexible twigs firmly tied together with twine. Soaked in water for a few hours before use, this admirable implement has long been considered as the ultimate sanction to control over-ebullient, errant youths. At first sight, with its thin twigs, on asks oneself if it truly is a painful instrument of chastisement, to which the answer has to be a resounding "Yes". With each successive stroke the pain builds up until it becomes well nigh unbearable for the recipient. But the great advantage of the birch is that due to the light nature of its structure, it does not lead to physical damage to the naked arse of the recipient; a well birched arse is something akin to an impressionist painting, as the entire buttock area is covered with small ridges, which change in colour as they mature. Overall, the birch, correctly wielded by an expert, is a truly frightening instrument of corporal punishment, which is precisely what attracted the Commander to it.

The Commander then remembered reading somewhere that although called the birch, implying the use of twigs from the tree of the same name, some experts felt that a better and more durable instrument could be made using the fine straight upper twigs of the hazel, which as a suckering large shrub or small tree, was admirably suited to the cut and come again philosophy needed for the regular production of birches. But, wondered the Commander, who is going to make these switches for me and where is he going to get the raw materials? This was a question which had to be addressed and a solution found, before the school actually opened for business; a school, without the birch was unthinkable for the Commander.

The Commander then had a bright idea. He had recently appointed as head grounds man a muscular young fellow by the name of Thomas Barraclough. Barraclough was about twenty-five years old and unmarried and lived in the school grounds in one of those buildings provided for the male outdoor staff, and usually called "a bothy". As head grounds man, Tom as everyone ultimately called him, had his own private bothy, as did also the head gardener, whereas the general outdoor staff had shared accommodation. It is difficult for us to day to realize just how primitive were the conditions under which these lowly paid manual workers were then expected to live, but live there they did and not unhappily. The Commander decided that he would ask Tom if he could undertake the task of making the birches for the school and to this end he went to Tom's bothy one evening - he had to go there personally as there were no telephones at that time.

To his great surprise, the young man was enthusiastic about the job, which he agreed to try to do in his spare time for a very small increase in his emolument of one shilling for each birch he made. Tom told that Commander that he knew where there was a good stand of hazels on the estate and would go there during the week; as he saw it, the raw materials were there for the taking; and so, Tom Barraclough made his first attempt at making a birch.

The following Friday evening, the Commander again made a sortie and went to Tom's bothy to see how the young man had got on with his new task. He was amazed at the excellent looking birch which Tom had put together from his first cutting of hazel twigs. This young guy really had got the feel of what was needed, for he had formed a three foot long implement of a dozen or so finely selected hazel twigs, which was both well balanced and had all the makings of a great birch. The Commander complimented the young man on his effort and then began a long dialogue which led him into homoerotic pastures he had never even dreamed of when he commissioned this young grounds man to make the first birch.

"That is a masterly first attempt you have made of that birch, Mr. Barraclough." said the Commander: "You know it really does look like a professional job, as if you had been doing it all your life, and yet here you are an absolute novice."

"Everyone calls me Tom, sir," replied Barraclough, "So why don't you just do the same, sir? I have to confess that I truly enjoyed this little job you have had me do, probably because of something you do not know. At school in the north, I had my arse beaten, naked, I might add, so many times that it got to the stage that I finally came to enjoy the pain, so much so that when I left school and was no longer subject to school discipline, I felt totally deprived of an act of which I had become fond."

"My god," thought the Commander, "This young fellow is a masochist. He actually enjoys being beaten."

"Anyway, sir, when I started work, I realised that I needed to find someone who would give me what I had become used to and so I started going to what, I suppose in polite society are called "houses of ill-repute" - brothels in fact, sir, - where ladies, for a fee would thrash a gentleman across the arse. So when I took this job, I found myself again someway cut off from what had become to me a necessity. So, as you can see, interested in corporal punishment myself, I have found working on this birch a tremendous pleasure as at least I was engaged in something which was near to my heart."

"You should know, sir that the example you see before you, is in fact the fifth one I have made this week, trying to get what I thought was the perfect flexibility and the balance in an implement that was not too heavy to wield. And well, sir, I have been wondering all day, knowing as how you were coming here tonight to view my handy work, what my birch might feel like were it put to its intended use."

"My godfathers," thought the Commander, "Is this young fellow actually asking me to give his arse a thrashing with his birch? This is getting better and better."

But with a certain caution, the Commander then said, "Well, Tom, I don't know about this particular example you have just made, but I can tell you that when I was a boy at school, a long time ago, I might add, I was birched but once by my headmaster and believe me, it was not an experience that I ever felt I wanted to repeat. And I am glad to say that I finished my school days without another taste of the birch, although I felt the cane quite often across my naked buttocks."

"That's just it sir, I know exactly what the cane feels like across my naked arse and I really enjoy that, but I have been wondering just how the birch might compare with that. So, I was just wondering if you might..." His voice tailed off.

"You were just wondering, what Tom?"

'Well, you know sir, as you have not yet tried out the birch I have made on anyone, I was just wondering, well, you know, sir, I am sure..."

"Surely, Tom, you are not asking me what I think you are, are you? Tom, are you in fact asking me to try out your birch on your arse, young man? Is that, in fact, what you are asking?"

"Well, sir, now that you have put it so bluntly, I guess that I have to say yes. To be honest sir, I'm really hot to have my arse whacked with this thing I have just made. It will be a new experience for me and for you too, sir, if I may make so bold as to say so, for you will be able to judge if what I have made truly fits the bill. So, sir, as I see it, we shall both gain from the experience"

"Tom, I am sure we will, so if you are absolutely sure, it will be a pleasure for me to oblige you. But you are absolutely, absolutely sure that you know what you are asking; if I birch you, you will think that your arse has been stuck in a fire. The birch is a very, very painful implement of corporal punishment, probably the most painful. So, I repeat, are you sure that that is what you want?"

In fact, the Commander was just as keen to flog Tom's arse as Tom was apparently to have himself flogged. In modern parlance, the Commander would have said that this opportunity was "manna from heaven".

"I'm dead certain that that is what I want sir." Said Tom as he started to unbuckle his belt and drop his trousers and underwear.

The young man then bent across the table and pushed up his arse into what he clearly thought was the best position for the Commander to administer the birch. What the Commander saw before him was a flogger's dream; a beautiful pair of unblemished cheeks: an arse to be dreamt of in dreams: an arse just asking to be flogged!

"Go ahead, sir, don't be shy; just whack me hard; it's exactly what I want you to do."

The Commander paused for a few seconds, admiring the prospect in front of him, raised the birch and brought it down with a good blow across the middle of Tom's arse. The quality of Tom's handiwork was immediately apparent as the individual twigs of the birch rod fanned out beautifully and covered more or less the entire arse - the mark of a really well made birch rod.

"Go on, sir, don't hold back; hit me as hard as you can; that's exactly what I want. I want to feel the full pain that this implement is capable of; go on sir, just do it: give it to me good and hard."

So the Commander obliged and gave young Tom's arse a twelve stroke roasting with his own birch. My god, thought the Commander, I wonder that he can stand it without so much as a murmur. The twelve strokes given, the Commander, who by this time was totally hard and almost climaxing with the sheer eroticism of the occasion, put down the birch and told Tom that he thought that he had had enough for now.

"That was bloody great sir; exactly what I needed; I haven't had such a good thrashing in years; it was truly exhilarating."

The Commander was astounded at Tom's enthusiasm for what had just happened to him. Any other guy would, by now, have been begging him to stop, but not Tom. It was clear that here was a serious masochist: a man who truly enjoyed pain and wanted to have his arse beaten. True he had said earlier, that he had enjoyed being beaten at school and had occasionally gone to a brothel and allowed one or other of the ladies there to tend to his needs, but the Commander had never dreamed of the utter enthusiasm Tom would show for this masochistic orgy of pain; the birch took the whole business to another level, a much higher level and Tom clearly loved it.

As Tom stood up, with his trousers still around his ankles, the Commander became acutely aware that he was being faced with a magnificent erect, rock-hard cock, which the beating had induced in Tom. Tom fixed looked over at the Commander, his gaze fixed on the Commander's crotch, from where the Commander's erection was clearly straining to be freed.

"You know, sir, after a beating, it's sometimes very relaxing if some sort of soothing is administered to the flaming buttocks. I don't know if you have ever thought about that sir, have you?"

The Commander suddenly realised what Tom was angling at; he wanted the Commander to fuck his arse, but so far had not actually put his wish into words; but by now, it was as plain as a pikestaff where the whole thing was heading.

"I am not sure that I quite understand what you are getting at." said the Commander with greatest of understatement.

"Oh, I think that you actually do, sir," said Tom, his eyes focused even more sharply on the Commander's crotch. "I really think that you do, sir, and I am sure, sir, that you would like to help me."

Tom now turned away from the Commander, bent across the table again and spread his legs, giving the Commander unimpeded access to that all important entry point, his anus, which was now so beautifully and irresistibly presented that any hard cock would have found hard to resist. Like many young muscular men, Tom had a very tight anus, just the thing the Commander loved, for a good, tight hole, made for a great fuck.

Tom then said, "There you are, sir, surely you must be able to help sooth my pain; surely you can see what I desperately need; surely you can, sir. Please, sir, give me what you can see I am asking you for."

The Commander thought to himself, "My god, this is getting better and better. First he wanted me to beat him and now he is offering me his hole to fuck. Can things ever get better than this - and this on our first meeting!"

So the Commander now himself completely overcome by the sheer homoeroticism of the occasion dropped his own trousers and advance on Tom with his own cock rock hard and ready to penetrate the young man's anus, when Tom suddenly said.

"There is a bottle of oil in the cupboard over there sir. It might help, don't you think; I find oil so soothing."

Tom had been amazingly circumlocutive about what he wanted the Commander to do to him. He had never, in fact, actually put into words that he wanted the Commander to fuck him, but by innuendo, this young man had twisted the Commander round his little finger and now had the Commander reaching for a bottle of oil with which to anoint is cock before actually penetrating the young man's hole. So the Commander applied a liberal amount of oil to his cock and proceeded to shaft young Tom. Tom's sphincter was good and tight and it took a good thrust from the Commander to give Tom his full shaft length, but once inside, he wasted no time in pumping the young stud's butt as vigorously as he could, to the accompaniment of exhortations from Tom to give it to him as hard as he could. He eventually climaxed and ejaculated, in a series of jerky spurts, a huge quantity of his sperm into the young man's rectum. Tom also climaxed and sprayed the kitchen table with a liberal quantity of his own thick, creamy seed. The Commander collapsed on Tom's back and clung to him for five or so minutes until both men had calmed down after what has been an exhilaratingly hard fuck.

When both men had calmed down after what had been a vigorous session of sexual activity, the Commander withdrew his still hard cock from Tom's hole, stood up, wiped himself off and started to dress.

Tom looked at him with an admiring gaze and said: "You really are a great guy, sir. You know, sir, I've been fucked by quite a number of different men over the years, but never with such vigour, leading to such a huge climax as just now. You really are the tops, sir, And, I hope that you enjoyed "soothing" me as much as I did being "soothed". You know the combination of the birching you just gave me together with that monumental fuck has left me in such a state that I think I must be in heaven. Again, sir, thank you, thank you, sir, so very, very much."