THE WHACKING LIST

It was early evening in Randall's House at Marston Hall School for Boys and Mr Jameson, the housemaster, was taking the opportunity to relax. He lay back in his comfortable old leather armchair, sipping at a glass of sherry, knowing that he would soon have to be at work again, for a boarding school housemaster's job is never done - there is always some matter or other needing his attention.

Mr Jameson would shortly be having his daily meeting with his head of house, a well respected boy by the name of Saunders. The head of house was in charge of the prefects and responsible for day to day discipline within the house, making a report to the housemaster each evening. A few minutes later there was a knock at the door and Saunders was ushered in. After accepting a small sherry, he gave Mr Jameson a run-down of the events of that day, concluding with disciplinary matters.

'I've slippered three juniors today for horseplay - nothing to serious I'm pleased to say - but there are four more serious cases of misconduct I feel I ought to refer to you sir...'
'Fire away.'
'The first boy on my list is a first-year - young Neil Barrett. He only joined us recently.'
'What's he been up to?"
'He was caught red-handed trying to purloin items from another boy's tuckbox. Two prefects saw him - there's no way he can deny the offence. As he's new at Marston Hall I think that he needs a jolly good thrashing to impress upon him that we don't tolerate that sort of thing here. A slippering wouldn't be sufficient - he needs the cane.'
'Advice taken,' said Mr Jameson, taking a sip of sherry. 'Next case, please.'

'James Minton has recently taken to refusing to do his proper share of chores around the house.'
'How old is Minton now?'
'He's fifteen - an awkward age where a prefect's slipper fails to impress him. In my opinion, he needs a wake-up call.'
'I think that in Minton's case he ought to have one last chance. I recommend you to slipper him and to slipper him soundly. At the same time you can inform him that if he continues to fail to pull his weight I shall give him a thrashing to remember.'

'I'll take your advice, sir. But I think that you will certainly wish to cane the next boy. It's Jeremy Wilson of the third year and he has been caught smoking yet again.'
Mr Jameson assumed a stern expression. 'Well, I did warn him what would happen if he so much as looked at another cigarette. Put the scoundrel on the list. Now whose is the final case you wish me to consider?'
'Roger Williams, sir.'
'But he is in the lower sixth, isn't he? The headmaster does not really like to see boys of his age receiving the cane - it should not really be necessary.'
'You will recall the stiff lecture you gave Williams at the beginning of term sir. I had informed you that he was becoming a bad influence in this house, particularly amongst the younger boys. Unfortunately his conduct has now become even worse. Bad apples like Williams sully the entire tone of the house by their blatant disrespect for authority. He knows that he's too old to be given a prefect's slippering and I expect he thinks he is also immune from the cane.'
'But do you think that a beating from me will have any effect on the boy?' enquired the house master.
'I called a prefects' meeting on this issue, sir, and we all agreed that a salutary thrashing would do Williams a world of good and would have an even more beneficial effect on the general morale of
the house. He needs to be put in his place for the good of everyone.'
'Since you put it like that I don't doubt that you're right. You must certainly put Williams on the list...'

As the boys of Randall's House came back from evening prayers and moved towards their studies to begin work on that night's prep, they made their usual inspection of the notice board to see which names were on ' the whacking list', the colloquial term for the piece of paper headed 'Housemaster's Punishments', pinned up each day whilst they were engaged at their holy devotions.

It read as follows:

HOUSEMASTER'S PUNISHMENTS
The following boys are to report to Mr Jameson during prep when they will be called to account for their conduct:
Barrett N J R
Wilson J D
Williams RTF
Note: James Minton is to report to the Head of House as soon as possible this evening dressed in running kit.

Young Neil Barrett's heart beat faster. He knew he was in deep trouble and was not surprised to find himself on the whacking list. Jeremy Wilson was also expecting to find his name there and knew that he would be in for a hot time. Only Minton and Williams were taken aback: the younger boy at not being down for the housemaster's caning that Saunders had promised him, and the older one at finding himself on the list at all. Surely the housemaster did not intend to cane him - a sixth-former!

Whilst the boys on the whacking list made their way nervously towards the housemaster's quarters, 15-year-old James Minton walked along to the head of house's study. It was a chilly evening and he was shivering in his skimpy white cotton running shorts and singlet as he traversed the draughty corridors. The boy knocked Saunder's door with some trepidation . The head of house lounged in his comfortable armchair as he addressed the wrongdoer.

'Doubtless you expected to be caned this evening, as I had promised you. Well, you've been let off with a slippering this one last time: but if you don't step into line from now on you will most certainly be in line for a sound thrashing - that's a promise! Do you understand?"
'Yes Saunders'
'Mr Jameson has recommended a sound slippering which is why you've been ordered you to report in your running kit.You've nothing on under those shorts, I take it. . . '
'Nothing, Saunders.'
'Alright - bend over and touch your toes.'

The head of house had undertaken a thorough rummage amongst his collection of slippers, many of them handed down by past holders of his position, and had selected an ancient size eleven plimsole - flexible, yet possessing an iron-hard black rubber sole. This was the slipper he used on really naughty junior boys when he wanted to see them crying their eyes out — would it have the same effect on this 15-year-old? Saunders guessed that this might indeed be the case, for the first and second years enjoyed the protection of grey flannel shorts and underpants when being whacked whilst Minton was wearing only thin cotton gym shorts.

Taking a firm grip on the heavy slipper, Saunders took aim and brought it down smartly across the schoolboy's lightly-clad buttocks.
'SMACK! ' The sharp sound echoed around the study and Minton had to grip his ankles extra-tightly in order to keep his balance. It had really hurt.
'SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!' The slipper descended rhythmically over and over again, making the teenager squirm and gasp. After half a dozen hard whacks Minton was told to stand up and lower his shorts. His backside was glowing a fiery red and the wretched boy was on the verge of tears.
'Leave your shorts about your ankles and bend back down.'
'Please, Saunders....'
'Do as you're told - or shall I send you along to Mr Jameson?'
Feeling absolutely dejected James Minton resumed his ignominous stance, wondering how many more whacks were to come.
'SMACK!' The size-eleven slipper landed with a thud on the already inflamed bare flesh. The pain was almost unbearable.
'SMACK!' The schoolboy's backside was well and truly aflame and tears were trickling down his face. He could not take much more of this torture...
'SMACK!' Now Minton was blubbing uncontrollably, like any little first-former.
'Stand up and pull up your shorts. Here's a tissue to wipe your face. Now don't let me hear of you not pulling your weight in the house again! Off you go and get changed.'

As James Minton made his way back along the gloomy corridors, gingerly rubbing his scorched buttocks, the three boys on the housemaster's whacking list were lined up outside Mr Jameson's door, awaiting the dread summons.

Mr Jameson had busied himself choosing a selection of punishment canes suitable for that evening's proceedings. He had ended up with four, all crook-handled, which he had laid out on his desk: a short thin prep school rattan; a 'junior' model somewhat thicker and longer than the prep school version; and two 'senior' instruments, both of which looked capable of inflicting a considerable amount of punishment.

The housemaster poked his head outside the door and ordered the first-former to come in. The lad stood with his head bowed in front of Mr Jameson who thought how pathetically young and vulnerable he looked in his grey flannel blazer and matching short trousers. However, he knew better than to give way to feelings of pity - this boy had to be punished, and punished in such a way that he would not be tempted to steal again.

'I must say that I view your offence very seriously indeed, Barrett, Pupils have been expelled for this sort of thing in the past!'
'I won't do It again, sir. I promise.'
'You may be familar with the fact that in some Islamic countries they cut off the hands of thieves. I am not going to cut off your hands, but I am going to punish them. I want you to hold each out in turn, palm upwards. '
The housemaster picked up the light prep school cane and tapped it a couple of times on the youngster's upturned palm.
'I am going to give you two strokes on each hand and I require you to keep your arm steady. If you pull your hand away I shall give you extra strokes - so it is in your own interest to take the strokes as they come.'
Neil Barrett had never been caned on the hand before and had no idea how it would feel. He was soon to find out. The supple cane flashed down, landing on the boy's palm with a loud 'CRACK'. The sharp stinging pain was dreadful and poor Barrett immediately started shaking his hand
in an effort to relieve the discomfort.
'Put your hand back out boy!'
This time the boy knew that however hard he tried he would find it very difficult to keep his hand in place when he saw the cane descending. Just before the moment of impact he withdrew it, causing the housemaster to shout out in anger.
'You've now earned yourself an extra stroke, lad! That makes two more on that hand still to come - now hold it out and keep it still!'
This time Neil Barrett closed his eyes. There were two sharp cracks as the cane lacerated his palm twice more.
'Now the other hand if you please.'
'CRACK! CRACK! '
Both of Neil Barrett's hands were throbbing with pain and the schoolboy stood with each palm wedged under the opposite armpit in a vain attempt to ameliorate the dreadful stinging. He desparately wanted to rush off and place his burning palms under a cold tap, but Mr Jameson had not finished with him yet.

'The next time you feel inclined to dip your hands into other boy's tuckboxes just remember how they felt after a sharp caning. Now, so that I may complete your punishment you must remove your blazer.'
Young Neil Barrett's hands felt so numb from the caning that he found it a struggle to unfasten his blazer buttons. In the end the housemaster completed the job for him, then ordered the schoolboy to stand in the centre of the room and bend over and touch his toes. Mr Jameson picked up the junior punishment cane and flexed it.
'I am going to give you three strokes, Barrett, and once again I must warn you not to give me any trouble - unless you wish to earn extra strokes.'
By now the first-former was now deeply regretting his dishonesty. The hands reaching out to touch his toes still tingling and now he was going to acquire a sore bum as well - it was all too much to bear!
'THWACK! ' The punishment cane bit into the seat of Neil Barrett's regulation grey flannel shorts. The boy winced, but maintained his touching-toes position.
'THWACK!' 'THWACK!'
'Up you get Barrett - and don't let me find your name on the list again, or else!'
'Yes sir. . .thank you sir. . . '
'Now off you go - and kindly ask Wilson to join me.'

Jeremy Wilson and Roger Williams had been waiting patiently out in the chilly corridor whilst the first-year boy was being dealt with. They could hear the muffled cracks of the cane through the heavy oak door and guessed that the housemaster was in a vindictive mood.
'I counted eight strokes,' said Wilson. 'That's a lot to give a kid. Heaven knows how many I'll be getting.'
'I don't see why I'm here at all,' said Williams. 'Saunders has been gunning for me all term and now he's talked the old man into beating me. A rotten trickI call it.'

The door opened and Neil Barrett crept out, his sore palms wedged firmly under his armpits. In an unsteady voice he told Wilson he was to go in.
'I've looked in the punishment book, Wilson, and I see that you've already been caned twice by me for smoking. On the first occasion you received three strokes and for the subsequent offence four. You have also been slippered several times by the head of house for this same offence. It's about time the message got home to you, young man - if you are found smoking you will be dealt with severely!'
The youngster stood shamefaced. He certainly feared the cane and the slipper, yet at the same time he had possessed an irresistible compulsion to smoke ever since he had begun at the tender age of eleven. It was his misfortune that this boarding school was so strict about the matter, for it had led to his acquiring a sore bottom more times than he cared to remember. "Since those two canings seems to have had no deterrent effect I shall increase the dose to six-of-the-best,' Mr Jameson said sternly. 'Bend over the back of that armchair...'
Jeremy Wilson stepped towards the all too familiar chair and bent over, steeling himself for the ordeal to come.
'By the time I have finished with you, Wilson, you may at long last consider it wise to curtail your smoking habit.'
The housemaster lifted the boy's blazer up over his shoulders to reveal the shiny grey seat of his regulation long trousers. He selected one of the senior canes and lifting it high in the air brought it down with a well practised sweep so that it landed with a loud 'THWACK!' across the upturned buttocks.
It was a well-aimed stroke and Wilson gripped the sides of the chair and gritted his teeth. He knew from exprience that the cane could sting like fury but it always took the reality of an actual beating to remind him just how much it hurt.
After five more strokes had been inflicted Jeremy Wilson determined never to touch another cigarette. His backside was on fire - as through he had been sitting in a burning brazier - and his eyes were moist with tears. Mr Jameson was a proficient caner and this had been six of the very best.
'Get up, Wilson. I trust that you have learnt your lesson at long last.'
'Yes, sir. I won't break the rules on smoking again.'
'Good lad! I'll shall hold you to that. Now off you go and please ask Williams to come in as you leave.

Being last in the punishment queue the sixth-former was feeling somewhat nervous and was not looking forward to his confrontation with his housemaster.
'Close the door behind you, Williams. There are several things I wish to say to you. '
Roger Williams observed the collection of punishment canes lying on the desk and feared the worst. It looked as though the housemaster did intend to beat him - he must think fast if he was to avoid such an outcome.
'I had occasion to talk to you at the beginning of this term, Williams, when I conveyed to you in very direct language my complete disapproval of your general attitude and your blatant disrespect for authority. I have had a stream of unfavourable reports about you from the prefects and Saunders tells me that in their opinion you have become a thoroughly bad influence in the house. The prefects as a body strongly recommend that I beat you. Have you anything to say for yourself?'
'Saunders and his cronies have got it in for me sir. They run this house like little Hitlers. That's why they want me to get a caning, even though I'm in the sixth...'

'A Marston Hall boy is never too old to be caned, Williams, if he deserves it. And I think that you richly deserve it.'
'But I'm not a little boy - I'm a sixth-former. '
'If you insist on acting like a little boy you must be beaten on your bottom like a little boy! Now, you have this choice before you: either accept a thrashing and determine to reform yourself - or leave the school altogether!'
'The headmaster wouldn't expel me... '
'He most certainly would if both I and my head of house recommended that course. The welfare of the house as a whole must rank above the welfare of any individual boy. You must accept that I am quite determined - make up your mind Williams.'
Confronted with this stark choice Roger Williams felt that he had no alternative but to accept the beating. It was more than a year since he had suffered the sting of a school punishment cane although he had endured more than his fair share of whackings and slipperings over the course of
a somewhat chequered school career. Resignedly he made his way over to the armchair and prepared to bend over it in the accustomed manner.
'Hold on, Williams. As I said, if you insist on acting like a little boy you will be beaten like a little boy. You will receive this caning - or perhaps I should say whacking - bending over and touching your toes. And to ensure that the punishment has the desired effect I shall require you to lower your trousers.'
'But sir...'
'DO AS YOU ARE TOLD BOY!'
Redfaced with embarrassment the hefty sixth-former took off his blazer and then unfastened his trousers. Moving to the centre of the floor he bent over and held his ankles. The housemaster stepped forwards and lifted the boy's shirt tail to reveal the tightly stretched thin white cotton of his Y-front underpants.
'You are going to receive eight strokes of this senior cane and if you take them well I will forget your disgraceful conduct and allow you the chance to make a fresh start. Is that understood?'
'Y-yes sir...'
Roger Williams did not want to be expelled but he was wandering Just how he would be able to take eight strokes. It would be murder.

Selecting the heavier of the two senior canes, the housemaster swished it through the air a couple of times. The dense yet very pliant rattan was a well-balanced instrument - just right for the job in hand. Peering outwards between his legs the sixth-form boy had an upside-down view of all this. He didn't like the look of that cane, especially the knotty joints. What would it do to his thinly protected bottom?
Mr Jameson did not use all his strength to inflict the first stroke: he wanted to assess the power of the cane before he began in earnest. Williams muttered a groan, gripping his ankles more tightly so as to keep his balance. The next four strokes were much more forceful and must have stung dreadfully, but to his credit Roger Williams accepted them bravely, hardly uttering a sound.
The housemaster lay down the cane and inserted two fingers into the elasticated waistband of Williams' Y-fronts. To his shame and discomfort the miserable lad felt the garment being pulled downwards, revealing his bare buttocks for inspection.

Mr Jameson could not help taking some pride in his handiwork. Five angry red weals were evenly spaced and almost parallel , a tributed to the housemaster's expertise with a cane.
'The final three strokes will be delivered to your bare backside, Williams.'
The pain of those first five strokes of the cane had been so diabolical that Roger Williams did not think it could get any worse. But he was to be proved wrong. The housemaster now picked up the thinner junior cane and biting into flesh that was already raw and tender, the rod stung like fury. As a coup de grace Mr Jameson aimed the eighth and final cut across the tops of the boy's thighs - a very tender region - causing him to howl with pain.
'Get yourself dressed, Williams. And don't let mee see your name on my punishment list again.
I shall inform Saunders and the prefects that you have paid your debt to the house and will be making a fresh start. How you may go. '

After he had checked the dorms after lights out, the head of house strolled along to the housemaster's rooms to make his final report of the day.
'How did matters go with young Minton, Saunders?'
'Oh, I think that I gave him a slippering to remember. And how did things turn out with today's whacking list sir?'
'I am of the opinion that all the punishments inflicted this evening matched the crimes.'