The Defiant Sixth-former

 Original Fiction – for adult eyes only

Gerald Chesney was eighteen years old and he considered himself to be all grown up. He was an adult and he was jolly well going to act like an adult.

His parents and schoolmasters might have been pleased to learn that Chesney was determined to behave with maturity and to show responsibility as he headed off along the bumpy road to adulthood.

They would have been disappointed when they learned the truth: for to Chesney behaving like an adult meant smoking cigarettes, drinking beer, and chasing girls.

He was a sixth-former at St. Oswald’s, quite a prestigious boarding school in the English countryside outside the small village of Upper Brocklehurst, and he had earned a reputation for being a rebel and, because he thought he was no longer a child, he always looked for ways to defy the strict rules and traditions of the school.

He hated the dull and boring lessons, the rigid discipline, and the snobbish attitude of his classmates and masters. He preferred to have fun and adventure, so he often sneaked out of the school grounds to explore the nearby village and its attractions.

One of his favourite places to visit was the Black Bear, a snug but lively pub where he would play cards, smoke cigarettes, drink beer, and chat-up the local girls. He also loved to gamble and he often won money at cards. The locals knew he was from ‘the posh school’ and often joked behind his back that if the schoolmasters ever caught Chesney he would end up with a smoking backside.

One evening, he was absorbed in a game of poker and lost track of time and was still in the pub when the headmaster, Dr. Grimshaw, paid his regular visit to buy a bottle of whisky. Dr. Grimshaw was a stern and severe man, who ruled the school with an iron fist. He had a keen eye for spotting mischief, and he had a special dislike for Chesney, whom he considered a bad influence and a disgrace to the school.

Dr. Grimshaw entered the pub and scanned the room with a frown. He spotted Chesney at a corner table, surrounded by a pile of cards and coins. He marched towards him, his face red with anger. Chesney looked up and saw him, and his heart raced. He knew he was in deep trouble.

‘CHESNEY!’ Dr. Grimshaw bellowed. ‘What are you doing here? How dare you skip school and gamble in this den of iniquity? Come with me at once!’

The locals sniggered as the headmaster grabbed Chesney by the collar and dragged him out of the pub, ignoring his protests. He threw him into his car and drove him back to the school, and marched him up to his study.

The headmaster pushed Chesney into the room. ‘Stand there,’ he growled, pointing to an ornate rug in front of an imposing mahogany desk. This was not Chesney’s first appearance in the headmaster’s study and he was so familiar with the dark, imposing room that he no longer noticed the walls adorned with dark, wood-panelled wainscoting, and above it, deep, hunter green wallpaper with a subtle pattern. A large, ornate fireplace with a heavy wooden mantelpiece dominated one wall, adorned with a mirror above it. There were oil paintings, portraits of past headmasters, and landscapes of the school’s surroundings.

Chesney noticed none of this, but his eyes were drawn to the several curve-handled, whippy canes tucked away under a decorative umbrella stand in one corner. Above these were the headmaster’s academic gown and his mortarboard cap.

The headmaster went behind his desk and climbed onto his throne: a high-backed, leather-upholstered chair. This was lavish with intricate wood carvings and plush cushioning. The leather had a deep, rich colour, and was designed to exude his authority and gravitas.

‘Face me, Chesney,’ Dr. Grimshaw said coldly, he brushed wispy strands of grey hair away from his deeply-lined forehead, his steel grey eyes bore into the scoundrel standing before him.

‘You have been a thorn in my side for too long,’ he lectured. ‘You have broken every rule in the book, and you have shown no respect for the school or for yourself. You have wasted your time and your talents on frivolous and immoral pursuits. You have brought shame and dishonour to St. Oswald’s and to your family. You are a disgrace to the school and to the British Empire.’ Spittle dribbled from the corner of his scowling mouth, ‘What have you to say for yourself?’

Chesney stood, hands behind his back and his head bowed slightly, he had no wish to look at his tormentor. He looked like a cowering schoolboy but suddenly a spirit took him. Perhaps it was the beer he had been drinking that gave him a new courage. He raised his head, looked at the headmaster squarely in the eye and in a slow, measured tone, he said, ‘Sir, I have nothing to say, except that I am eighteen years old, and am old enough to go where I please, and do what I please, outside of school hours. I do not see why I should be punished for something that is perfectly harmless and innocent. I do not see why you should have the authority to forbid me from going to the pub, which is a common and popular pastime for people of all classes.’

Blood drained from the headmaster’s face and he found breathing difficult; never in his life had a schoolboy spoken to him in the manner. But Chesney was not done yet.

‘I do not see why you should impose your outdated and narrow-minded views on us, and deprive us of our freedom and our fun. I do not see why you should treat us like children, when we are almost adults, and soon to leave this school and enter the world.’

Dr. Grimshaw coughed and spluttered, unable and also unwilling to contain his fury. ‘Enough! You have gone too far! You have crossed the line! You have shown me that you are incorrigible and irredeemable! You have left me no choice but to administer the most severe punishment that I can inflict on you. You will receive twelve strokes of the cane, on your bare backside.’

Chesney was shocked and a little fearful. He had not expected such a harsh and humiliating punishment. But he also felt a surge of fear, anger, and resentment. He wanted to protest, to argue, to fight. But he knew that it was useless. He knew that Dr. Grimshaw was serious, and that he would not change his mind.

He watched silently as the headmaster paced across the study to the umbrella stand. There were several canes of various lengths and thicknesses; some were pale yellow in colour and others dark brown. The headmaster knew which stick he wanted and immediately picked up the stoutest and densest cane. He turned to face Chesney and he flexed the rod menacingly between his hands.

‘Take off your jacket and fold it on my desk,’ his order was calm there was no need for histrionics. The headmaster was king of all he surveyed and he did not expect to be defied. Despite his speech and his genuine feelings about the headmaster and the school, Chesney was still a typical product of an elite English boarding school of the nineteen-fifties. He knew he had to obey the order from a man in authority, no matter how unjust he believed it to be.

He slipped the jacket from his shoulders and laid it carefully on the desk; his movements were slow and controlled but he felt like he was no longer in the room, he was observing this from afar as if it were some kind of ‘out-of-body’ experience.

The headmaster swiped the cane through the air before pointing it at a small, low-backed leather armchair. ‘Lower your trousers,’ he intoned, and waiting a moment or two for dramatic effect, he continued, ‘and your underwear.’ Chesney seething inside with resentment would not give the headmaster the satisfaction of dissent. He knew he had no option but to obey the headmaster and he would do so as convincingly and stoically as humanly possible.

Soon the trousers slipped down his legs. He was a slender eighteen-year-old with an athletic physique, his cotton underpants fitted him snugly. He hesitated, he knew he had a good body, the girls in the village had told him so and he often noticed furtive glances from fellow pupils in the games changing rooms. He was not shy to be seen naked but he deeply resented having to strip down before his punisher.

He gritted his teeth and slipping his thumbs into the waistband of his underpants he sent them shivering down his thighs where they snagged at the knees.

‘Bend over the chair,’ the headmaster wobbled the cane so there was no misunderstanding. Chesney sucked in a lungful of air, rubbed the palms of his hands together and fell over the chair, rather like he might dive into a swimming pool.

‘Jut that bottom out,’ the headmaster snarled. ‘Legs apart.’ Chesney wriggled to comply with his tormentor. The headmaster stood to one side of the prostrate boy and carefully tap-tap-tapped his cane across the centre of the hairless, naked buttocks. ‘You will count each stroke aloud, and you will say “Thank you, sir” after each one. If you fail to do so, or if you move or cry out, the stroke will not count, and you will receive an extra one. Do you understand?’

Chesney grunted his assent, and braced himself for the pain. He felt a surge of pride and resentment, and vowed not to give Dr. Grimshaw the satisfaction of seeing him suffer. He thought of his friends, his family, his future. He thought of anything but the cane.

Dr. Grimshaw raised the cane, and brought it down with a sharp crack. Chesney felt a searing pain across his backside, as if a hot iron had branded him. He clenched his teeth, and said in a strained voice, ‘One. Thank you, sir.’

A dark red line appeared immediately across the pale flesh. Chesney’s knees buckled and he gripped the arms of the chair for his dear life. But he uttered no sound. The cane rose and fell, rose and fell and by the fifth stroke it felt to Chesney that his backside had swollen to twice its natural size. Thick ridges crossed both cheeks and the pain had become so intense that his body’s natural protection had kicked in and it felt almost numb so that he hardly felt a thing from then on.

The headmaster, enraged by the insolence of the sixth-former slashed the cane across the naked buttocks with great force; never in his vast experience caning disobedient schoolboys had he laid it on so hard. He was scarcely in control, further enraged by Chesney who did not move, or cry out, or shed a tear. He endured the punishment with stoicism and dignity, until it was over.

At last, gasping for breath and with perspiration soaking the back of his shirt and armpits, Dr. Grimshaw stood back, he looked at the teenager before him, his quivering buttocks criss-crossed with dark-red lines. ‘Chesney, you have received your punishment. You may stand up, and get dressed.’

Slowly and deliberately, the sixth-former pulled himself to his feet, and as if in a dream he reached down and took hold of his underpants; the pain in his bottom reignited as the soft cotton touched the raw flesh. Wincing, he bent again and got his trousers up. His head was throbbing as much as his backside and he felt removed from the room. He did not know it but adrenaline was coursing through his body and endorphins had kicked into his brain. It would take some time before he regained proper control of his actions.

The headmaster still held the cane menacingly between his hands. ‘Chesney you will apologize to me for your misbehaviour and your insolence. And you will promise to never repeat your offence’

Chesney stood, feet apart and the room seemed to sway. His backside was aching intensely but he ignored it; he stood erect and with his shoulders pushed back, he said in a clear and defiant voice, ‘Sir, I have received your punishment. But I do not apologize, and I do not promise. I do not regret what I did, and I do not think that I did anything wrong. I do not respect your authority, and I do not accept your views. I do not fear your cane, and I do not care for your school. I am eighteen years old, and I am old enough to go where I please, and do what I please, outside of school hours. And I will do so again, as soon as I get the chance. This is what I think, and this is what I say. And I do not care what you or anyone else thinks or says.’

Dr. Grimshaw was speechless and furious. He had never heard such a bold and brazen speech from a boy in his life. He gripped the cane in his hand and only with a near super-human effort did he resist thrashing the boy all over his body with it. He could barely see the boy through his rage but he calmed himself sufficiently to say, ‘Your defiance is intolerable. If that’s the way you see it then so be it.’ He wobbled the cane in front of Chesney and then swiped it viciously through the air. ‘You will return to my study tomorrow afternoon for a repeat performance. Twelve more on the bare and we’ll see what you think about that.’

He swished to cane towards the door and added, ‘Now go. You are dismissed.’

Chesney nodded and limped out of the study and made for his dormitory, where he lay down on his bed and tried to forget the pain. He felt angry and bitter, and he knew there was no point staying at St. Oswald’s. He made his plans to escape the school that evening.

Back in his study, Dr. Grimshaw flung the cane onto the armchair and rushed to open a desk drawer. He cursed out loud that he had been disturbed at the pub when he saw the empty whisky bottle there.

Picture credit: Generated by Artificial Intelligence (A.I.)

SOURCE

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