Is it me?
Part 1 “Gentle Beginnings”
I find it hard to remember the exact order of events all those years ago, everything I am going to tell you happened, just maybe not in the exact order that I tell it. I had a happy middle class childhood, being born into post war Britain, rationing was just ending, work was plentiful, kids were on the whole well behaved and discipline at school was real!
I must have been 7 or 8 when I first got into trouble at school, I kicked a ball through a window, I was summoned to the Headmaster. Justice was swift, 6 strokes of the slipper for the first offence. However I had to watch as other boys received harsher punishments as they were no longer first offenders. The system was 6 with a slipper (trainer you might call it today) for the first offence, then 6 with a cane, then 6 with a cane with trousers and pants dropped. I watched with horror as Alan, one of my classmates had to drop his pants in front of us, the assembled miscreants, bend over with his legs apart holding his ankles and suffer 6 stinging strokes of the cane. I had thought that he would die of shame, and burst into tears. Not Alan, he smiled all through it and the amazing thing was his “willie” changed! It grew before my very eyes! Funny thing was so did mine, a new experience to me.
When I got home I stupidly told my dad what had happened, this earned me a second spanking, for being so stupid as to say anything. The effect of this was to stop me ever telling my parents anything that happened, in case I got smacked again. My parents are wonderful and loving people who struggled to bring us up in a rapidly changing world. TV was very new, most people did not have a telephone in the house, indeed many still had no fridge or washing machine too! Very few families in our village even had a car at that time. Kids made their own entertainment, those lucky enough to have a TV used to invite the neighbours in when something important was on. I can remember not long after the punishment incident at school Alan and his sister were invited in to watch a new childrens program on TV, “Blue Peter” My older brother sat next to Susan, Alan’s sister, while I sat on the floor with Alan. He kept trying to tickle me, especially in THAT place, and of course I got hard again. Later, when “Childrens hour” was over Susan and my brother went off somewhere and Alan and I went across the fields to the woods. There was a tree house in the woods, and Alan led me there. Once inside he proceeded to take down his shorts and play with his “willie”, I was fascinated, apart from the one time in the headmasters office I had only ever seen one other boy, my brother!
The summer came and went, “dirty games” in the tree house became a daily occurrence, though all we did was fumble each other, and politely kiss each others willie and bottom. Once his sister came along and wanted to play, but the sight, and smell, of the hairy fat thing between her legs put me right off. She was 12 and had entered puberty with full personal hygiene problems.. yurgh!
September arrived, and with it a new school year, one that was to change my life for ever. Alan stole some cigarettes from the local paper shop, and we decided to smoke them behind the bike sheds at school. Bad move as the school caretaker (janitor) caught us and threatened to take us straight to the Headmaster. I cried and blubbed and begged him not to, promising that I would do anything to avoid that, so anything it was! I found out almost 40 years later, from Alan that it was all a set up, the caretaker had arranged it all with Alan but no one could have known where it would lead!
Mr Carter, the caretaker, took me, and a grinning Alan, to the boiler room, a scary place at the best of times but when you had just been caught smoking it seemed like Hades itself! Once inside his “office” an oversized store room with no windows, and a door that was locked all the time, he said he would have to check that we had no more cigarettes, this involved what would now be termed a strip search, with body cavity search. Alan grinned and started to strip, but Mr Carter stopped him,
“I’ll do that” he said and he slowly started to remove Alan’s clothes one by one, while making a big show of checking the pockets and groping him everywhere. Once he was done with Alan he started on me, I was shaking like a leaf, but my “willie” was enjoying it then my eye went to Alan who was still naked and was rubbing his “willie” up and down and obviously enjoying it!
Mr Carter kept up the pretence with a lecture about how bad smoking is, and how we needed to be punished. He asked if I wanted to be punished by him, or if I wanted to go to the Headmaster for a full caning on my bare bottom in front of the school, for that, he predicted, would be the punishment, plus the Head would surely tell my parents! This news brought on new floods of tears from me, though Alan could barely hide his laughter! I decided that nothing that Mr Carter could do could possibly be worse than a public caning followed by a letter to my parents, so I agreed to his “punishment”. I guess in a way I was right, Mr C. spanked me but the only thing I felt was his other hand massaging my rock hard willie. Alan and I had many more trips to Mr Carters office, though it never went further than us being naked and him stroking us and having us stroke each other! Sadly we never once got to see him naked, or do anything more adventurous. All in all it was a very tame introduction to something that later took over my life, but that’s for the next instalment!
