Tales from St. Francis
Original fiction
– for adult eyes only
John Allison is
eighteen years old and when his family move home he is forced to leave his liberal
progressive school and join St Francis Independent Grammar School, popularly
known as St. FIGS. What a shock is in store for him at this traditional school:
traditional school uniform, traditional curriculum, traditional sports and , of
course, traditional discipline. Follow John and his pals through a series of
tales at this fictional school.
Jack Wilks stood about two feet from the padded
armchair. At any moment he would be bent across its back, face in the soft
cushion with his bottom high for the schoolmaster to whack it with a heavy
slipper. He deserved it, of course. He knew that: he had no argument. The rule
was simple and all the boys understood it. If you got less than sixty percent
in a class test you got the slipper.
Christopher could feel a searing pain in his
knuckle as he crushed it into the face of the opposing team’s centre-half.
Blood poured from the schoolboy’s nose as in agony he sank to his knees. His
piercing scream drowned the shrill blast of the referee’s whistle. His nose
could quite possibly be broken, Christopher didn’t care. It served him right.
He would, of course, have to suffer the consequences of his action.
Headmasters, Like Elephant’s, Never Forget
Picture credit:
The Magnet
Former pupil Kevin Smith is now a junior ‘cub
reporter’ on the local newspaper. He returns to St Francis to collect details
of the annual speech day and pick up the names of the pupils who won prizes
only to find there is painful unfinished business with the headmaster.
Murph in the Headmaster’s Study
Murph was bent over the desk, awaiting his fate. He had been told to grip the far edge of the desk, so he was stretched across it. His school blazer, shirt and white vest had ridden up his back. His grey school trousers and white Y-fronts were down at his ankles.
Picture credit:
Unknown
Brother Sebastian sends the sixth-formers out on a
cross-country run. All but two arrive back on time. But where are Allison and
Howard? There will be hell to pay when they return. A heavy rubber plimsoll
applied with great force across the backsides would be the solution.
Picture credit:
Unknown
Da Silva recounts a visit to Mr Hill, his
housemaster … I flinched as I felt him pull the end of my shirt out from under
the waist-band of my trousers and all too soon the cane was tapping the middle
of my buttocks. I kept telling myself that it was not going to be too bad,
right up until I heard the crack then felt the fire sweep across my bum, Jesus
he was going to rip my backside open.
It is winter and the throwing of snowballs is
banned. George Baker, sixth-former and prefect knows the penalty for disobeying
the headmaster’s ruling. The snow is falling fast and the temptation is great,
what will he do?
It was now halfway through the last week of summer
term and in just a couple of days another batch of what Mr Price, the deputy
headmaster, regarded as his natural prey – the sixth-form boys – would be
leaving forever and be beyond his gasp. Or more specifically beyond the reach
of his cane. The thought made him grind his teeth.
Harry Clifton is off to the headmaster’s study.
It’ll be the cane for sure – it always is. But something most unexpected
happens … Harry Clifton swallowed hard. The canes were of differing
thicknesses, densities and lengths but he knew with absolute certainty that in
the hands of the headmaster any one of these rods would “take his backside off”
as the schoolboy slang then circulating had it. Alongside the canes hung the
headmaster’s black academic gown and the flat mortar-board cap, the official
uniform of schoolmasters across the land. The badge of office. The seal of
power.
Picture credit:
The Magnet
Corporal punishment was banned in schools thirty
years ago but two present-day sixth-formers are keen to travel back in time …
Robbie inspected the cane carefully. It was a little over a metre long and had
four notches along its length. One end had been curved. It was very light
brown, almost yellow, in colour and as thick as a pencil. He gripped it at the
end near where it curved. It slipped in his sweaty hand. Then, holding it in
front of his face he wobbled it. The rattan was highly flexible. He gripped the
cane tightly and swished it through the air. It made a wonderful whoosh as it
went. He bent it again in his hands. Yes, it was the real deal all right.
Picture credit: The Magnet
A chance encounter at a bus stop takes George
Harkness back to his schooldays in the housemaster’s study with Will Rigley …. George
Harkness watched intently as Dr. Cuthbertson sawed the cane across the centre
of Will Rigley’s bottom. He took careful aim, then lifted the cane away from
the seat of the pale grey trousers, before whipping it back with terrific
force. A tremendous crack as cane connected with backside echoed around the
study. Air hissed through Will Rigley’s clenched teeth. His buttocks swayed
under the sting, but he quickly settled himself for stroke number two. George
Harkness watched in awe as a white line appeared across the seat of Will
Rigley’s trousers. He imagined a thick red welt must be throbbing across Will
Rigley’s buttocks.
For more Original Fiction, click here
Traditional School Discipline
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