Boy Thrashed for Stealing Apples

From: Rod Birch

As  a boy growing up in a reasonably strict home, I was  used  to being  beaten  from  a very early age and I  never  resented  the process.  Many times I was spanked and then caned by my  parents, always  on the bare backside, whilst my two private schools  also punished my bare behind when required.

At  Prep  School, it was usually the slipper, which  was  painful enough,  I  can  assure you.  At  senior  school,  however,  more painful measures were taken!

I  remember  my  first  whipping at  13,   which  was  for  being disobedient  and cheeky.  I was called to see the Dean,  who  was extremely annoyed with me.  I was told that I would have to  pull my socks up or I would find myself here again very quickly.  Then came the fireworks!

I was sentenced to 6 cuts and told to take down both trousers and pants.   Red faced, I did as I was told.  The Dean  then  sternly told  me to bend over his desk with hands gripping the far  side, which  I very nervously did.  He then raised my shirt out of  the way  and then walked to his cupboard to select his cane.   Coming over  to me again, he gently tapped my bum with  this  instrument before  swinging  it  up and then down very  hard  onto  my  bare bottom.   I yelped out - it hurt much more than the slipper  ever had  and this was my first ever caning.  The other five  were  as hard as promised and I was in tears at the end - not uncommon for boys at this school.

The marks lasted over a week, but I was in trouble at least  once a  term  throughout my time there, about average  for  many  boys there.

My  worst thrashing, though, was not from a teacher at  all,  but from  a farmer, when he caught me stealing his apples when I  was just 14.

I  was well aware (and so was he!) that if I was reported to  the dean, I would be caned in public, something I was not keen on  at all and so I agreed that the farmer should do the deed.  He  told me to bare my bottom and bend over the chair in his study,  which I did.  The farmer's cane was a thin, ridged rattan, which looked positively evil.  It was!  I was given 12 extremely hard  strokes with that cane, each of which drew a yell from me and left me  in tears,  yelling  & squirming from the very first stroke.   I  was marked  for  a fortnight and was lucky not to be flogged  by  the Dean  again for fidgeting in assembly the next day.  I learnt  my lesson though and never stole again.

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