Outside the Heads Office

do you remember the feeling of waiting outside the headmasters office. just looking at his door and waiting for that moment to enter. the feeling of regret and wishing you was somewhere else. the sicky feel and butterflies in your stomach. if it was first time do you remember how that cane would feel on your bottom and how you would react.would you feel humiliated having to bend over holding on to your knees .or if it was your second time ,..having to go through that stinging again and wondering how many whacks would he give . how did you feel about presenting your bottom to the headmaster for caning .

On the one and only occassion that I was caned at school (Six for trying to look up the french teachers skirt) the headmaster was’nt in and was left to wait outside his study while she went to look for him at the same time as allowing me to weigh up the situation.

So ok,a caning was most definately on the cards,about that there was no question whatsoever.How many? Well going by what I saw in the dorm’ at night on the occassion when it was every school boys solemn duty to inspect the freshly caned bottom of a fellow housemate it would also be without question whatsoever six and definately,no less.

How hard? Well no doubt when she did find the head she would make such a song and dance over it and certainly maging things seem a lot worse than what they were,I was in for a seriously hard caning-with the senior cane and,again with no question whatsoever.

Eventualy both appeared storming down the corridor,the head red faced with rage her,I’m sure cursing in French!I was grabbed by the collar,dragged into the study thrown over the desk,jacket pulled up and clear,shirt tails wrenched out then nothing,and then everything.Six seriously hard teeth rattling strokes of what must have been the senior cane and leaving me totaly breathless and weakened to the core after which,somehow I managed to limp back to French class and a vary satisfied French teacher!

So yes,I’ve done my bit for Anglo French relations I can tell you-six times in fact!

Some of us on here had Headmistresses for starters. Some others, like me, had no idea why we’d been summoned to the Head on the one occasion we got caned.

Mind you, on all future occasions I DID get summoned, I had a pack of lies ready. Which is a better preventative of rattan use than any I know.

Most of my fellow cane-ees were much the same, even those caught red-handed(or should that be yellow-fingered, as it was usually smoking!). You knew the score;if you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime!

Of course, those who went to any boarding establishment may have different experiences to relate. I expect getting caught red-handed was a bit easier there.

I do not believe anyone had my school felt or were humiliated by the need to present their buttocks for punishment. How else could you be caned?

Some certainly felt embarassed at being found out doing something childish or under hand or sneaky. Some may have felt embarrassed by being treated as a naughty school boy when they thought they had out growing this state.

On the one,and,thank heaven,only time that I was caned at my secondary school,the actual walk to the headmaster’s office did not fill me with heart-thumping,butterflies in the stomach trepidation.

To begin with,I had been caned a number of times on the fingertips at primary school,and I had discovered that it was not the horribly painful trial that I had been expecting.

This left me with a rather bold and devil-may-care attitude to the sentence of a caning.

Also I was with my best friend,who had been my partner in crime in ‘stirring’and frustrating our form-master to his wits end,since we had begun our first term at the school.

This had the benefit of giving us both moral support,and we actually were snickering and giggling a bit on the way to the office.

Oh yes! We were quite a pair of cheeky,insubordinate,bold and daring little rascals.

I was perhaps a little apprehensive, as this was my first caning at a new school,and the headmaster was a big,strong,rather frightening man,but I took succour from my knowledge that however much the first two cuts on the fingers may hurt,after that they seemed to numb up somehow,and the rest of the blows hardly hurt at all.

On reaching the head’s office door,we knocked,and my friend gripped the big brass handle,and we entered when a voice bade us do so.
There was no waiting.
We knew that we were expected,as our form-master had discussed our case with the head,and had told us to go to the office when we came into class after morning break.

The head thundered at us,lecturing us about our behaviour and the many warnings we had received,which we had chosen to ignore.

It was pretty scary actually,because he towered over us like a leviathan giant,and his denouncements made me feel more like a naughty little boy than my ego was comfortable with.

It was no surprise when the head informed us,that we were about to receive that which we had asked,and pretty much sat up and begged for.

He went to a press behind his desk,and produced the most wicked looking cane,flourished it at me,and told me to bring a sort of piano stool from a corner of the room,out into the middle of the office.

My friend and I looked at each other as I went off to obey.
We were both beginning to think the same rather worrying thought,that this was not going to be the hand caning that we were used to.

This was confirmed when the head motioned my pal to stand out of the way,and ordered me to lie across the stool.

As I obeyed,I felt the most dreadful feeling of my heart coming into my mouth and thumping like a trip hammer,my stomach sinking to my feet,and my mouth drying up in the most disagreeable manner.
I felt a thrill of fear that seemed to run like an electric current throughout my whole body.

I felt so ashamed,vulnerable and helpless in that position,and all of my attention was directly focused on my upturned bottom,as I waited with the direst anticipation for that first stroke.

I had never been caned on my bottom before,but had had some nasty experiences with a dowell-stick the year before,which made me feel less than confident that this was going to be the doddle that I had expected.

I will not go into detail as to the actual caning,as I have described that previously on another thread.

Suffice it to say,that I had never before,and have never since,experienced such an excruciating intensity of sheer agony as that caning produced.

To have to watch my poor little mate receive his punishment,as tears flooded from my eyes and I danced from foot to foot,rubbing frantically at my throbbing backside,that was an inferno of indecribable pain,made it that much worse.

Even worse still,was being marched by the head back to our classroom,two frantically sobbing,agonised little wrecks,to be excoriated by him out in front of the class of solemn-faced boys, and our satisfied looking form-master.
We certainly didn’t present as the two brazen little jack-the-lads that had left that same classroom a little earlier.

It was a salutory lesson.

sounds much the same as my experience, i also hadnt been caned on the bottom before, i hadnt even been caned on the hand, this is probably the reason i also felt a bit humiliated by having to bend over, i can see what kk is saying, how else could the bottom be caned if there was no bending and having to present your buttocks.at the time it felt a bit strange as the person doing the caning was not my parent. i had never been caned by a parent, just a normal bare bottom spanking up to the age of around 12 or so. having a spanking by parent i was brought up with, my mum did all the spankings and of course i was used to her seeing my bottom. i know the headmaster didnt see my bare bottom but my trousered bottom was on show. i had many more canings after this one and all the others i did not feel embarrased at all, i was now more concerned about my impending stinging that was about to come…

In my experience, you knocked and went in, a brief discussion, “the event” and out.

The Head’s door was not locked but he had traffic lights.

Green = knock and enter
Orange = Do not knock or enter
Red = Not in

At my other school I did see a boy of 12-13 having to make his own preparations for a caning by fetching a desk from the classroom across the corridor to take into the Deputy Head’s office as something to bend over whilst having the cane. He was in tears, I don’t blame him as this whole process added to punishment.

three in a row for the traffic lights, Just red and green, outside both the Head’s and Deputy Head’s doors.

On one occasion I was most definitely saved from a caning by the fates. Myself and a friend (Martin) had been out on the shooting range ( Yes non OTC but we didn’t mind a bit a shooting, however hypocritical ) and overstayed. There were obvious safety precautions which included returning guns and ammo. In order to do this , as we were late we took a quick short cut through the swimming pool. This was shared with the girls school : boys morning , girls afternoon. the girls were already there, well that just caused amusement….but we had to traverse the length of the pool with ‘unlawful’ footwear. We did it , but on exiting we were faced by the girls senior PE mistress…..who would a year later teach us hockey, but who equally unfortunately thorough Jackie knew me . She stopped us and gave us a dressing down, and then she said in conclusion , that she was seeing Jackie that afternoon and she ‘should’ report this.We just said yes miss, groveled , and scuttled away. However , small mercies, she hadn’t say ‘would’.

Now we knew this was a caning offence , because of the girls. On the other hand were we to own up , explain, and admit it , we might just get away . Then again Jackie was so punctilious as to NOT showing me any favoritism the reverse could well be true. So we waited. No message to see her at the usual time in the afternoon.

We couldn’t decide what to do . You see if it were any of OUR PE staff they would have reported it , and probably slippered us themselves…….but would she do the same ?

We had a plan . We a waited until school finished ,and then we went towards Jackie’s door . Green we’d go in . Red we go past……….let the fates decide .

RED. We walked past….and never a word was heard………….this was the exception that proves the rule. There had to be one decent PE instructor somewhere !!!

The one time that I was caned I was waiting to see the senior mistress for girls for truancy. I had to wait outside her office with my hands on my head, facing the wall. There were a few boys waiting to see the headmaster and they were giving me a few glances. I heard one boy getting the cane and the boy after him getting several strokes before I was summoned and caned. I had butterflies and my left knee was shaking. The wait was horrible as hearing the boys caned sent chills up my spine and having been slippered I suspected that I might be caned as well as a girl in my year had also been caned for truancy. I emerged with a very sore bottom and the boys who had yet to be caned were still in line for their punishment.

My sister’s told me that boys were caned and caned frequently when I began my secondary schooling. I had been at the school for 4 months when I made the first of five visits to the Headmaster’s office. There were two boys standing in line when I arrived and after several minutes the first boy was called in. My heart was pounding and my palms were sweating as we had our hands on our heads. Mucking about at the train station was the reason for my visit. We could hear the boy being berated and then there was a pause of a couple of minutes before we heard the first THWACK sound. It sent shivers down my spine, an additional five thwacks sounded out and we heard the Headmaster thunder out “bend over, touch your toes” on the 3rd, 4th and 5th strokes. The boy emerged with tears in his eyes and the other boy was summoned, he emerged six strokes later and it was my turn. I was unfortunate enough to earn the maximum of six strokes for my behaviour. I had six raised ridges across my buttocks with blue bruising

Two classes later my maths schoolmaster called me forward for the slipper for fidgeting-my sore bottom was the reason-he gave me four strokes and I was teased mercilessly for sobbing until a friend told the other boys that I had gotten six with the cane during lunch.

My school was mixed but with areas separated by gender. In the junior school classrooms were mixed but no senior school. A corridor separating the two areas, and areas that were as nursing, secretarial, library and the offices of director and assistant director.

Although there were hours to dispense with unruly students, morning recess, the desktop or in the evening, after classes, anyone could be sent at any time, even during classes, to receive corporal punishment.

When you were sent to receive corporal punishment thing you wanted wasn’t to meet someone. This was inevitable if you sent at set times, by joining the two rows of girls and children. Older children looked you deeply, making you feel humiliated to see how you smiled knowing what would happen in a few moments in the office of the assistant director.

But they also would happen to him as well, so the exit, after receiving a good whipping, that smile had disappeared from their faces and replaced by tears.

He was also funny how the smallest to the most over looked with curiosity and some admiration, as well as a surprise to see you there, it was supposed that the greatest director visited recently.

The wait was terrible, but most of the nerves and even the fear that produced the noises coming from inside (belt, shouts, cries …), the worst for me was to have them there, in front, with her naughty looks and smiles. And when she came crying, hands in the ***, which was not yet had a look even more humiliating.

Being sent to the headmasters office was just one of the worse feelings ever for a schoolboy and even worse still was having your name read out at the end of assembly when the headmaster would announce would the following boys see me outside my study afterwards or at a given time. The rest of the school would look at you knowing that you were in trouble and that you would most likely be getting a caning. Walking down the corridor and then waiting outside really did have your legs trembling as you waited in silence on your own or with other boys all feeling the terrible apprehension and sometimes this was even more so if another boy or boys were in the study before you and you could here the obvious sounds of the cane being used and sometimes a boys distress as he was being caned. Then when the door finally opened and you were invited in and told to stand in front of the heads large oak desk on which your eyes immediately fixed upon the cane lying there just waiting to be used almost still warm from being used on the previous boy/boys bottoms. It was just such an amazing, scary, stomach churning experience as you felt your knees knocking almost a relief when the head picked up the cane and instructed you to bend right over the desk after removing ones blazer, griping as hard as you could, eyes tight, cheeks clenched, soon be over! unless you had to watch others before you, then swish whack…….ouch a searing pain but before you had time to recover a second stroke and any number up to 6 would stripe your tightly presented bottom which you struggled with to keep still as the eyes began to water. Getting the cane was an awesome unforgettable experience and for me i had that “pleasure” four times between 12 and 16 and it never got any easier in fact worse as the last time was a full 6 along with four other boys! Those who had this experience will no doubt relate to what i have said.