Drama in the Housemaster’s study
Original fiction – for adult eyes only
A theatre play
The scene is set in the housemaster’s study at an elite
public boarding school. It can be set anytime between the 1930s and the early 1960s
but it has to be ‘old fashioned.’ If theatre resources allow the room should
have wooden panels. At the very least it must have an old wooden desk with a
chair for the housemaster. In one corner there is a hat / coat / umbrella
stand. Hanging from it are at least three traditional whippy punishment canes.
There can be more but however many are available, the canes must be of
different lengths and thicknesses.
There are two characters the HOUSEMASTER who is aged
fifty-plus. Ideally, he will be dressed in an academic gown. His mortar-board
cap can hang alongside the canes. If the gown is not available, he should be
dressed in a formal suit. He may leave the jacket hanging also.
The second character is REYNOLDS, a senior boy. He is
eighteen years old and soon to be leaving the school. He is dressed in
traditional school uniform of pale-grey trousers, grey socks and black shoes.
He also wears a white shirt with a striped tie. He should also wear a school
blazer with a crest. Since this is an elite school it is preferable that his blazer
is not just a simple black one. Ideally it should have some colour (red, blue
or green are typical) or it can be in different colour stripes. There is no
need for him to be wearing a school cap.
Throughout the scene the HOUSEMASTER adopts a stern visage
and tone of voice.
THE SCENE
HOUSEMASTER (H.M.)
is seated behind his desk. There is a whisky bottle (almost empty) on the desk.
He holds a glass in his hand and is staring blankly into the middle distance.
There is a knock on the study door that wakes him from his apparent stupor.
Suddenly realising that the bottle and glass are visible, he hurriedly opens a
drawer to his desk and hides them there.
H.M. Come!
The door opens
slowly and REYNOLDS stands half in and half out of the doorway.
H.M. Don’t dawdle boy. Come in.
REYNOLDS
reluctantly enters the study. He stands uncertain what to do next.
H.M. Close the door boy.
REYNOLDS closes
the door.
H.M. Stand and face the wall boy.
H.M. waves his
arms about and vaguely indicates a spot against the wall. REYNOLDS shuffles
into position. He slouches.
H.M. Stand up straight boy. Hands on head.
REYNOLDS does
this. H.M. sits still at his desk. It is obvious that he has no pressing
business to attend to. He merely wants to make Reynolds wait; to let him stew.
After a few moments H.M. rises from his chair and slowly paces the study.
REYNOLDS can hear his footsteps and turns his head slightly to see what is
going on.
H.M. Face to the wall boy!
H.M. paces some
more staring intently at REYNOLDS all the while. After about one minute of
pacing H.M. returns to sit at his desk.
H.M. Turn around Reynolds. Stand there
H.M. indicates a spot in front of his desk. REYNOLDS tries
to look unconcerned (although he is). He slouches.
H.M. Straighten yourself up boy. How dare you present
yourself to your housemaster in such a fashion.
REYNOLDS straightens
himself up with his hands by his side. Thinking this makes him look too much
like a soldier, he clasps his hand behind his back. He looks directly at the H.M.
H.M. Well Reynolds you know why I have summoned you.
H.M. pauses
expecting an answer and when none comes he continues.
H.M. I have it on good authority that you have been
frequenting The Three Fishers public house.
H.M. pauses once
more. REYNOLDS looks ahead blankly. He starts at a spot somewhere over the H.M.’s
shoulder.
H.M. Well boy what have you got to say for yourself.
REYNOLDS shrugs
his shoulder but does not answer.
H.M. Pah! Don’t add dumb insolence to your crime boy. Were
you or were you not in The Three Fishers?
REYNOLDS. [Almost inaudibly] Yes sir.
H.M. Speak up boy. Were you in The Three Fishers?
REYNOLDS [Louder] Yes sir.
H.M. leans forward
in his chair and steeples his fingers. He glares at REYNOLDS.
H.M. You are aware that The Three Fishers is out of bounds.
To all boys. Seniors as well.
REYNOLDS. Yes, sir.
H.M. You are aware that earlier this term the headmaster himself
announced that fact.
REYNOLDS. Yes, sir.
H.M. And yet Reynolds you took it upon yourself to ignore
the headmaster’s instruction.
REYNOLDS stares
down at the floor and wrings his hands behind his back.
H.M. Well Reynolds. Do you believe the headmaster’s
instruction does not apply to you.
REYNOLDS continues
to look at the floor.
H.M. Well boy! Answer me Reynolds!
REYNOLDS. No sir.
H.M. No sir. That is correct Reynolds. The rules apply to
you and to the other boys equally. You have deliberately flouted the
headmaster’s instruction and for that you must be punished.
H.M. hauls himself
from the chair and paces the study once more. He stops at the hat stand.
REYNOLDS follows his progress with his eyes. H.M. looks intently at the canes
dangling. He chooses one and flexes it between his hand. He acts as if he had
never seen the cane before. He puts it back and takes a second cane. He flexes
this as before. He swishes it through the air. He puts that back and selects a
third. He flexes and swishes it. Then he turns to face REYNOLDS.
H.M. I shall cane you Reynolds.
REYNOLDS looks
alarmed. He waves his arms.
REYNOLDS. You can’t do that sir. Cane me. I’m in the Sixth.
A senior. Seniors aren’t caned sir.
H.M. glowers at REYNOLDS.
He flexes the cane menacingly.
H.M. How dare you Reynolds! Such impertinence. I shall cane
whomsoever I wish.
REYNOLDS. But sir. I’m a senior. Eighteen. I’m too old to be
caned.
H.M. leans into
REYNOLDS. He is so close the boy can smell the whisky on the H.M.’s breath.
H.M. As long as you remain a pupil at this school REYNOLDS
you are never too old to be caned.
REYNOLDS. But sir. It’s not done sir.
H.M. Not done! Not done. It might not have been done before
in recent history but never have I been faced with a wretch such as you
Reynolds.
H.M. wobbles the
cane and points to his desk.
H.M. Take off your blazer. Leave it on my desk.
REYNOLDS rubs
sweat from his face.
REYNOLDS. Sir you can’t cane me. Really you can’t.
H.M. Outrageous! Truly outrageous. If you do not comply with
my instruction immediately, I shall take you to your headmaster. Rest assured
he will flog you before putting you on the next train away from here. Expelled
Reynolds. Never to return.
REYNOLDS is
sweating. He stares anxiously at the cane in the H.M.’s hand. He looks across
at the desk. Slowly, he unbuttons his blazer, slips it from his shoulders and
carefully places it on the desk.
H.M. wobbles the cane and points to a spot in the centre of
the study.
H.M. Stand there boy.
Reluctantly,
REYNOLDS shuffles to the spot. H.M. swishes the cane through the air.
H.M. As you were quick to remind me Reynolds you are a
senior boy, I shall deliver a senior boy’s beating. [He pauses for dramatic
effect] Take down your trousers.
REYNOLDS looks
shocked. His mouth gapes. He thinks about making a further protest. The words
“But sir” form on his lips, but he says nothing. There is a long pause before his
hands shake as he struggles to get his belt undone and the fly buttons of his
trousers open. The trousers are open but he holds on to them so they don’t
fall.
H.M. Drop the trousers Reynolds.
REYNOLDS lets go
and the trousers fall to his feet. He is wearing traditional white cotton
Y-front underpants.
H.M. Bend over boy.
REYNOLDS glares at
the H.M. before he bends down and places his hands on his knees.
H.M. All the way REYNOLDS.
REYNOLDS grabs his
shins.
H.M. Pah! Right down boy. Touch those toes. Knees straight.
REYNOLDS struggles
to get into the right position. H.M.
watches him thoughtfully flexing the cane in his hands. At this point the
theatre group must decide how to proceed with the caning. It might be possible
if REYNOLDS keeps his back away from the audience for some protective padding
to be hidden inside his pants. Or he may be required to bend at such an angle
that it looks like he is being caned, but the cane actually misses - it would
prove difficult to do this in such a way that all members of the audience
wherever they are seated are deceived. It is also possible that the young actor
playing REYNOLDS is sufficiently dedicated to his craft that he is prepared to
take an authentic caning. This would be the author’s preferred course of action
but it is recognised that if the play has a long run at a theatre the actor will
have to endure a corrugated bum for the entire duration.
H.M. tucks the
cane under his arm and then takes hold of the elasticated waistband of the
underpants and pulls so that they hug the contours of the buttocks. There
should be no creases in the cotton. He then gently rubs the palm of his hand
across first the left buttock and then the right. He gives one cheek a playful
slap. Then he slips the cane from his arm into his hand. He steps back and
stands to the boy’s side and gently taps the point of the cane across the very
centre of the buttocks. REYNOLDS visibly flinches. H.M. “saws” the cane from
side to side across the tensed buttocks. He raises the cane and swipes it
across the buttocks with tremendous strength.
REYNOLDS. Ouch! Oww!
REYNOLDS shakes
his hips. Almost raises from the touch-toes position. Steadies himself.
H.M. Tucks the
cane behind his back and slowly paces the study. He reaches the far end and
from a distance he admires the figure of the submissive boy. He does this
pacing after delivering each stroke. H.M. knows that the boy’s buttocks are
blazing and it will take a few seconds for the intense agony to ease before he
can lay on the next stroke. He paces back to the boy and takes aim again. A
little lower this time. REYNOLDS visibly tenses. H.M. swipes the second. H.M.
tucks the cane behind his back and paces again. Then he repeats the tapping and
sawing and delivers the third stroke.
H.M. I trust I am getting through to you Reynolds.
REYNOLDS [Gulps and gasps] Yes sir.
H.M. Will you be visiting The Three Fishers again?
REYNOLDS. No sir.
H.M. I’m very glad to hear it.
H.M. tucks the
cane under his arm and with both hands he takes hold of and pulls at the
elasticated waistband of the underpants.
REYNOLDS. Oh no sir. Please no sir.
H.M. Snorts. He
peers under the cotton at Reynold’s backside. He is only checking to see how
accurately his cuts have landed. He lets go of the waistband, tugs again and
with the palm of his hand he smooths creases from the cotton.
H.M. A fine set of marks so far Reynolds.
REYNOLDS shuffles
his feet slightly. He is finding it hard to take this severe caning.
H.M. [Barks] Keep still boy. Steady. Let me get on with my
job.
H.M. taps and saws
and whacks down stroke number four into the underside of the cheeks. REYNOLDS
yelps and starts to stand. He just about manages to steady himself and bends
over again so that he brushes the toes of his shoes with his fingers.
H.M. Yes Reynolds. Stay in position. If you do that again I
shall administer extra strokes. And we’ll see how you like it with your
underpants at your ankles.
H.M. taps and saws
and strikes across the centre of REYNOLDS’ bum. REYNOLDS’ body shakes. His head
rises and shakes. It takes a monumental effort for him to stay bent over
touching toes.
H.M. Nearly over Reynolds. Two more to go.
H.M. taps and saws
and lands a terrific swipe. REYNOLDS goes through a litany of wriggles and
shakes while yapping and yelping. H.M. presses his hand into Reynolds’ back to
stop him jumping up. When he is satisfied the boy is steady H.M. paces the
study. He returns, taps and saws.
H.M. Last one boy. Brace yourself.
H.M. swipes the
hardest cut yet.
REYNOLDS yells.
His knees buckle, he almost topples onto his face.
H.M. You may stand Reynolds. Get dressed.
REYNOLDS jumps to
his feet and hops from foot to foot doing the spanking dance. Both hands grasp
his buttocks and he rubs furiously. H.M. stares at him with undisguised
contempt. After much jumping about REYNOLDS reaches for his trousers and pulls
them up. He flinches as the trousers touch against his roasted bottom.
H.M. Take your blazer and leave.
REYNOLDS grabs the
jacket from the desk and not waiting to put it on he rushes from the study. H.M.
watches him go. Then, slowly H.M. walks across the study and returns the cane
to the hat stand alongside the others hanging there. He is breathing heavily.
Unsteadily he slumps in his chair at the desk and he tugs open the drawer. He
grabs the whisky bottle and holds it up to the light. It is almost empty. A
look of fear crosses his face. He doesn’t bother to pour it into the glass but
raises the bottle to his lips and drains the last of the whisky.
Light fades to
dark
Picture credit: The
Magnet
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