The Head Boy's Fag

THE HEADBOY'S FAG - CHAPTER 2

THE FAG'S PROGRESS AT OLLERTON COLLEGE

A Homoerotic Story

In the first episode of this story, our hero, the Honourable Timothy Edward Clive Lattymer-Smith, the second son of the fourth Lord Lattymer of Adel-cum-Eccup in the County of York, had found himself selected by the Head Boy, Sebastian Jeremy Mottram, of Ollerton School as his personal fag. Ollerton was, and still is for that matter, a small, but prestigious (and very, very expensive) public school, the Headmaster of which, in the year 1900, was a man called Clarence Mortimer Redvers-Grex. Dr. Redvers-Grex was a classicist from Oxford who after graduating from The House (Christ Church College) in Greats (Greek and Roman history and literature and philosophy), had then gone on and taken a doctorate in divinity. He had never been ordained, however, and consequently did not wear the customary dog collar of that calling.

He had been appointed Headmaster of Ollerton at the very young age of thirty, in the year 1890, so that at time of our story he was now forty years old. In the ten years as head of the school, he had ruled with a rod of iron - or more exactly with a fine selection of best quality Malaccan rattan canes - complemented by a weekly supply of fresh birches, fashioned to his very precise specification by one, Mr. Travers, the head gardener. So it can be said that Dr. Redvers-Grex was a great believer in the old adage: "Spare the rod and spoil the boy". Since his appointment, the rod had reigned supreme at Ollerton. All the masters and senior prefects were authorised to thrash their charges and Dr. Redvers-Grex himself was the greatest exponent of the gentle art of beating boys' arses. And not only did he thrash boys on a regular basis, but he was generally reckoned by those who had had the benefit of "being corrected by him" as being a "bloody killer" with the cane. It has to be said that the Headmaster enjoyed this part of his job immensely, finding it homo-erotically very satisfying. Dr. Redvers-Grex was a bachelor and, unless you have not already guessed, was like so many men of his profession, a practising homosexual.

His friends wondered what his motivation had been to enrol in the Divinity School, for in spite of his present status as a Doctor of Divinity, he was not a particularly devout man. Ollerton, like all schools of its type, had a chapel, where Redvers-Grex took the service on Sunday mornings, at which all boys were obliged to attend. And, like pretty well all schools in the United Kingdom at that period, he conducted the daily school assembly, Monday to Friday, at which the boys said a prayer, sang a hymn and listened to, (but rarely understood the significance of) the text for the day to be followed by the day's announcements. For some reason between Friday and Sunday, Saturday had somehow been forgotten in the religion stakes and there was, therefore, no outward manifestation of worship that day.

Our friend, Lattymer-Smith, having been educated at home by a private tutor, arrived at the school in autumn of 1900 and was, at first. somewhat of a lost soul at Ollerton. He had no experience, at all, of any form of communal life. To be thrown in, as he had been, at the deep end and find himself sleeping in a dormitory with twelve classmates had been as agreeable as jumping into a bath of ice-coldwater. Knuckling down to the academic discipline, of sitting in a classroom with a group of other boys, all of whom had previously experienced the joys and rigours of a prep school education, was not an easy task either. The omnipresent threat of the cane, which was in regular use in all classes at Ollerton, did not make for an easy life for young Lattymer-Smith. But to top it all, his undoubted good looks had earned him the glance of the Head Boy, who had chosen him as his fag. And so he had found himself plunged into a world hitherto completely foreign to him.

As the Head Boy's fag, he had found himself, from the very first day at the beck and call of his fag-master, expected to perform any number of menial tasks; tasks with which he was totally unfamiliar and had really no clear idea how to execute properly. To top it all, his fag-master, Mottram, the Head Boy turned out to be somewhat of a bully; he had very exacting demands and standards which he expected his fag to carry out both punctually and correctly. It is not surprising, therefore, that on the evening of his first day at school, having passed what can but be qualified as a disastrous day attempting to satisfy his fag-master, he had found himself, arse naked across a chair, taking a six stroke beating from his lord and master, Mottram.

For a boy hitherto had never ever felt the tender caress of the rod against his naked flesh, this was a baptism of fire into the realities of life at Ollerton. The only positive thing coming out of his was that when he went to bed that evening, his room-mates had commiserated with him and greatly admired his stripes. The beating had raised him to a sort of heroic level and he was, from that moment on, "one of them". That the beating had had a profound effect on Lattymer-Smith, of that there was no doubt. For the next few weeks, he managed to perform his fag-master's tasks to his satisfaction and avoided any further encounters with the cane. But the dreaded cane was always lurking somewhere, looking for victims; it was a completely insatiable animal and one way or another it had to be fed. And so it was that at the end of his first month at Ollerton that Lattymer-Smith, to his profound dismay, found himself with an invitation (actually it was an order) to deliver himself one Friday evening at eight to the Headmaster's study. Such invitations meant only one thing: a beating from the Headmaster himself.

The Headmaster, Dr. Redvers-Grex, as has already been remarked was a great believer in the beneficial effects of corporal punishment on his charges and an invitation to visit him in his study was considered by the boys as something to be avoided like the plague. His interventions with the cane and the birch on the naked arses of those summoned to attend were legendary. Limited only by the school regulations, which restricted the maximum number of strokes to twenty four, Dr. Redvers-Grex rarely gave less than twelve cuts, which was a figure he himself considered as par for the course. However, when dealing with older boys, he frequently upped his offering to eighteen, eye-wateringly stinging strokes of the cane. It is safe to say that any boy who had visited the Headmaster's study aleays left there with a "well roasted arse".

Although the prefects were generally considered to be harder caners than the masters, Dr. Redvers-Grex was the exception which proved the rule. By common agreement among the boys, Redvers-Grex was considered in a class of his own when it came to doling out punishment. In his own way, he could have been considered like that great sweet French wine, Chateau d'Yquem, which, when in the nineteenth century the top wines of Bordeaux were classified in the order of their quality, was considered so divinely sublime that it was given the title of "Grand Cru Hors de Classe". And that is exactly what Dr. Redvers-Grex was; hors de classe: in a class of his own. He had so perfected the art of delivering intensely excruciatingly pain with the cane and the birch, that no one was his equal. He had, over his years as Headmaster, with constant application and devotion, developed techniques for handling the cane, which were quite unique and are worth describing before we actually see him in action.

As an Oxford undergraduate, Redvers-Grex had been a blue. He had been his college's finest lawn tennis player and in inter-college matches he almost invariably beat his opponent. In his his final year, he was considered as being one of the top two players at Oxford. And it was precisely from his skill at tennis, where he was equally at home in making smashing deliveries both forehand and backhand, that he had gone on to develop a very special style with both cane and birch, when he indulge in what was to become one of his favourite pastimes as Headmaster: beating boys' naked arses.

When a boy is to be beaten, he is usually bent over the back of a chair or special punishment horse, or stretched across a desk. A right- handed tormentor then positions himself at his victim's left side, so that he can address his target, to wit the lad's backside, from the right. On the other hand a left-handed person would normally stand to the right of his target so that he could, being left-handed, address the target arse from the left. In both cases, the most comfortable position allows the person wielding the cane to place his cuts accurately on the target arse. If the average, right-handed person tries to adopt the reverse position he usually finds it awkward, as an effective stroke can really only be delivered back-hand, and back-handed strokes are more difficult to place accurately. And make no mistake; the accurate placement of the strokes coupled with the force of application are the keys to producing what is usually referred to as "a well beaten arse".

Now Redvers-Grex, thanks to his prowess at tennis, was equally at home in delivering strokes either forehand or backhand, which had led him to two variants on the normal beating procedure, both of which produced superior, more painful results. As an inveterate flagellator, he had studied very closely, the way a cane impacted on a boy's naked buttocks. With the objective in mind to inflict he maximum pain with each stroke, he had reached the conclusion that the best results were obtained by using fairly thin Malacca rattan canes with closely spaced leaf nodes so that there were lots of inter-nodal knobbles (always a desirable pain-enhancing feature!) visible along its length. The free end of a junior cane, some thirty three inches long, when brought down smartly on a boy's awaiting buttocks, would wrap itself around the far side of his side of his arse, thereby ensuring that not only the backside also that that flank benefitted from the chastisement. Then by addressing the target arse from the other side, the same effect could be achieved on the other buttock.

For the senior cane, he had decided to remain with the same slender calibre but to increase the length to thirty six inches. The additional three inches provided the required extra force when cane landed on its older, more muscular target. As it was only the buttock globe further from the person wielding the rod, which received this wrap round effect, to achieve what the Headmaster considered a well beaten arse, he administered six strokes from each side: six forehand and six backhand. And this is where Redvers-Grex scored above other masters. Thanks to his skill at tennis he was equally at home in either mode. When he had finished with a twelve stroke beating, the unlucky recipient left his study with a flamingly painful backside wondering if he would ever be able to sit down comfortably again. With twelve well-placed strokes, Redvers-Grex could deliver an excruciatingly painful arse to its owner over its entire surface; there was no point free of pain by the time he had finished. No one was his equal, as many boys who had had the doubtful pleasure of experiencing a beating from the Headmaster, could testify.

It was the Friday morning assembly at the end of the first month of term; the hymn was sung; the lesson for the day was read; the prayer was said and Dr. Redvers-Grex was making his announcements. Now at every Friday Assembly there was a moment of tension when the Headmaster announced the names of those boys whom he wished to see that evening at eight o'clock in his study, These innocuous sounding words sent a frisson of fear coursing through the veins of pretty well every boy listening, for they meant that the those summoned to attend were to receive a beating that evening in atonement for whatever sins, real or imaginary, they had committed during the week. Now on this particular Friday, Timothy Latttymer-Smith was not perturbed as the announcement was made for he thought he had a completely clean slate.

The Headmaster intoned the first two names: "I wish to see Thompson and Cartwright, both of the upper sixth; together please, in my study at eight sharp this evening. And I see that I have today, only one other name on my list. (Was there a note of disappointment in his voice?) Lattymer-Smith I would also like you to attend at eight this evening. You would oblige me, gentlemen, by being punctual and it would facilitate the proceedings if you would wear just your gym strips; please comply with this request."

As he heard his name announced, a release of adrenalin shot immediately through Lattymer-Smith's body; he went hot and cold all over, started trembling with fear and suddenly had an urgent need to take a pee. It is quite amazing the shock that those few simple words gave to his system. As far as he was aware, he had done nothing to warrant a Friday evening visit to the Headmaster's study; a visit which everyone understood meant a thrashing administered by the good Doctor himself. Even after only one month at Ollerton, Lattymer-Smith was already acutely aware of what was likely to happen to him that evening. But what had he done to be summoned to see the Headmaster? He had no idea: none at all. Could it be that it was all a horrible mistake and that he would receive a message telling him not to attend?

But no; he spent a very uneasy day wondering what was going to happen to him. He barely ate his lunch and supper as he had totally lost his appetite; it truly was a very nerve-wracking day for him. Things were not made any easier by the gratuitous "encouraging" remarks he received from his classmates: "Old Redvers-Grex takes the skin of boys' bums once he gets them into his study." Or: "I hear he just goes on and on until he draws blood." Or: "Sometimes he uses the birch if he thinks that the cane is not enough." Or: "He rubs salt into the wounds he has made to avoid infection."

You can well imagine the sort of effect that remarks like these had on the poor lad. If the aim of his classmates was to terrify him, then they had succeeded admirably. There was nothing particularly malicious in these remarks; like most boys of their age, they had a morbid curiosity to know what was to happen to their classmate; and there was always that ever present undertone of Schadenfreude which prompted them to make matters psychologically worse for the victim, by their unwarranted remarks, none of which had any basis in fact. By the time he had picked at his supper. Lattymer-Smith saw the Head Master, in his mind' eye, as a beating machine; someone who took in the likes of him and used them as "cannon fodder". Not surprisingly, therefore, he was quaking in his boots as he donned the requisite gym strip and made his way to the Headmaster's study.

As he arrived at the door of the Headmaster's study, he saw that the other two "condemned men", Thompson and Cartwright were already there, waiting to be called inside to meet their fate. Thompson asked him what he had done to be on the Headmaster's list that evening, to which Lattymer-Smith had to say that, in reality, he honestly did not know. To this Thompson replied: "Well don't worry; it doesn't really matter what you've done. The fact is that you are here for some reason or another, which the old boy will make apparent to you before he takes the skin off your naked arse with his cane."

At that moment the door was flung open and a severe looking Dr. Redvers-Grex invited the two older youths to enter, saying to Lattymer-Smith: "I'll deal with these two offenders first and come to you later. Just stay where you are and wait until I tell you to enter."

Lattymer-smith had no option but to stand around, increasingly nervous and await his fate. The door was closed but he could hear the muffled voice of the Headmaster droning on for several minutes to be followed by a few moments of complete silence which were suddenly broken by the very audible and unmistakable sound of a cane mating with naked flesh, accompanied by a sharp yelp of pain. But there is no need for the reader to be kept eavesdropping at the door, for we can go inside to see exactly what was taking place between Dr. Redvers-Grex and the two sixth formers.

Dr. Redvers-Grex looked grimly at Thompson and Cartwright as they entered the room. Unlike Lattymer-Smith, they were both fully aware of the offence which had brought them before the Headmaster. They had broken, and for Thompson it was the second time that year, one of the Headmaster's most strict commandments: "Thou shallst not smoke". Redvers-Grex lectured the two lads about the evils of smoking and drew Thompson's attention to the fact that he had already been beaten, late the previous term, for having indulged in that same forbidden pleasure. And no, the fact that they were both eighteen and had a legal right to the fragrant weed played no part in what was allowed at Ollerton: smoking was strictly forbidden to all boys, including those in the upper sixth; and for those boys caught "in flagrante" it brought in its wake the severest of punishments. Thompson was also alert enough to realise that he was possibly in deeper trouble than his "partner in crime" as the Headmaster had mentioned that this was the second time that he, Thompson, had broken the rule: an ominously menacing augury.

"And so, gentlemen, I have no alternative but to ask you to step out of your gym shorts and to ask each of you to bend across the back of one of the two chairs I have prepared for your attention." Dr. Redvers-Grex had placed the two chairs in a rather unusual arrangement. It was not at all uncommon for masters and prefects at that period to punish two or more boys together, by making them bend over the backs of chairs placed in a row: seat to back. The caner than passed up and down the line, thrashing each arse as he did so. But today Redvers-Grex had placed the two chairs well apart, with their backs facing each other. So when the young miscreants bent over for punishment, the observer was presented with a unique homoerotic spectacle of two sets of two muscular buttocks facing each other.

The moment of truth had finally arrived and the two young men, for upper sixth formers were already men, did as bidden, stepped out of their shorts to display their well developed genitalia to the good Doctor. Dr. Redvers-Grex went behind his desk to where he kept his canes in a tall antique oriental pot. After a slight hesitation he selected a well seasoned senior cane, richly knotted along its full length and very, very supple. It was precisely the sort of cane with which an experienced user, which he most certainly was, could impart, to any well presented arse, the most excruciatingly exquisite pain. He stood between the two suppliant boys: Thompson to his left; Cartwright to his right. He then swished the cane a few times through the air for effect and then applied himself in earnest to the job at hand: whacking the two naked arses.

The use of the cane in public schools of the period was a commonplace event, taking place more or less every day, as some poor lad bared his arse, bent across a chair and presented his buttocks for chastisement. But in the hands of Dr. Redvers-Grex. this was no ordinary event for his skill at tennis was now transferred to the addressing of the awaiting naked flesh. Standing as he was, between the two boys whose bare arses were awaiting the first stroke, he raised the cane well above his head and brought it down with great force, to land dead centre of Thompsons's buttocks; and this without the usual tapping around at the target to decide where to start the onslaught.

As the stroke landed, Thompson felt as though he had had a red-hot poker laid across his naked flash and let out a howl of pain. But Dr. Redvers-Grex did not wait a second as he raised the cane again into the air and with exactly the same precision, brought it smashing down, this time in a backhand stroke, on the naked flesh of the unfortunate Cartwright. Between each, let us call them, "twin strokes"; he paused for some ten seconds to allow the delinquents fully to appreciate the effect of each cut. And then he continued with the next five strokes. Thompson took the full force of the cane forehand whilst Cartwright had the doubtful pleasure of appreciating the backhand skill of the Headmaster.