When I returned to the dormitory grinning, I was treated as something of a hero, especially since I had not even been guilty of the offence in question. As a timid boy who was never particularly good at sports, I had rarely enjoyed much admiration from my peers, but that changed from that moment onward. During the following year, I no longer avoided exploits that might result in punishment. Although I genuinely dreaded the cane as much as most boys, I found myself relishing the sense of pride that came from showing off the marks afterwards.
It has now been almost ten years since my first proper caning. There is nothing quite like the burning pain produced by a rattan cane applied with force to bare skin. After receiving four strokes, I cried for about fifteen minutes, so my friend and I decided to have a cup of tea while I recovered. The wait could not have been easy for her, but she was determined to honour our agreement. Her punishment left her just as sore as I was. Both of us were badly inflamed across the entire area, but what fascinated us most were the raised purple welts stretching across both cheeks.
For several days afterwards we examined the marks and were pleased to find faint traces of them still visible more than two weeks later. We occasionally continued to use the cane and strap on each other, usually with a safety word agreed in advance. It still puzzles me how I became so fascinated by corporal punishment without first experiencing it myself. My male partner has never shared these interests, although he accepts my friendship and understands my unusual fascination.
I was both caned and slippered at school. At the time I hated every moment of it, but the experience left me with a lasting curiosity about corporal punishment as an adult. I suspect this was reinforced by a relationship after university, when a former girlfriend developed an unusual interest in the punishments I had received at school and seemed fascinated by my descriptions of them.
Having grown up under fairly strict discipline, I sometimes feel that its absence in adult life has left a void. After all, people do not suddenly stop making mistakes simply because they reach a certain age. In that sense, I found the idea of adult discipline strangely compelling.
With this in mind, I visited a willing disciplinarian last year. After changing into gym shorts, I underwent what was intended to be a severe lesson. It began with a prolonged hand spanking over the knee. Next, I was instructed to bend over and grasp my ankles while I received six hard strokes from a rubber-soled plimsoll. I found this particularly difficult to endure, and it was only the sight of several canes standing in the corner that persuaded me to remain still and quiet. Finally, I was sent to a separate room where I was told to bend over a desk and await the final stage of the punishment.
After an uncomfortable wait, I heard footsteps approaching. The disciplinarian entered carrying a thin, crook-handled school cane. Already sore from the spanking and slippering, I dreaded what was coming but was determined to accept it as stoically as possible.
After a few practice taps, the cane descended sharply across my gym shorts. Eight agonising strokes brought tears to my eyes. Following a brief pause, my shorts were lowered and I received a further four hard strokes across my bare buttocks.
To many people, the entire experience may seem strange. The idea of dressing as a schoolboy and voluntarily submitting to severe punishment is certainly not for everyone. At the time I hated the experience, as it recreated many of the emotions I remembered from school punishments. Indeed, the adult punishment was probably more severe than anything I had received as a schoolboy.
Some may also find it unusual that the punishment was administered by a man. I am heterosexual and enjoy relationships with women, but the cane has always been associated in my mind with male authority figures from my schooldays. For that reason, the experience felt more authentic.
I also believe that it is difficult to recreate the ritual, atmosphere, and emotional impact of corporal punishment unless one has experienced it personally. For many men of my generation, it formed a distinctive part of school life.
Nearly a year later, the session still remains vivid in my memory. It undoubtedly carries a certain appeal for me now, although I know that repeating it would leave me feeling just as nervous, emotional, and sore as I did on that day.
Naturally, I was asked whether I intended to repeat the experience. Before my first visit, I had only vague memories of school punishments to guide my expectations. Although I knew the cane would be painful, I had not anticipated quite how much twelve strokes from a senior cane would hurt.
When I discussed the matter afterwards, I was informed that the session had merely served as a reintroduction to corporal punishment and that any future encounter would be intended as a lesson I would not easily forget.
I was shown an impressive but intimidating collection of canes. Particular attention was drawn to a crook-handled dragon cane fitted with a rubber-coated tip. Even watching it flex and hearing it swish through the air made me wince. It was made clear that this would be the instrument used should I return.
Am I looking forward to another visit? Not exactly. I dread the prospect. Yet there remains a strange sense that it is something I feel compelled to experience again, much as school punishments once seemed unavoidable.
Another individual with similar interests described a different experience. Although never caned at school, he became increasingly curious about corporal punishment after leaving for university. Eventually, he responded to an advertisement offering the opportunity to experience a traditional school-style caning.
He recalls meeting an amiable older gentleman who provided exactly what had been requested: the experience of receiving “six of the best” in the manner once associated with schools. Before the punishment, he was even invited to choose the cane from several available options. While the experience was not something he wished to repeat, it left a lasting impression and did nothing to diminish his enduring fascination with corporal punishment.
