THE LETTERS OF AN EDWARDIAN SCHOOLTEACHER (Categories: Gay/Lesbian/Bi/Authoritarian/Adult/Youth)
The Lodge Fordingbridge Hampshire
25th September 1905
Dear Margie,
I felt it about time I put pen to paper and fill you in with the news of my latest posting. I wanted to share with you the incredulous happenings and adventures here at St. Augustine's in Christchurch. By the way, Dorset is a lovely county and with the seaside resort of Bournemouth only a few short miles along the coast I feel very excited, happy and lucky to have found a position here. You will simply have to come and visit me very soon, my dear, we can shop and I will show you the sights.
As you know, I have only been here three weeks but already I have had my eyes opened to the fact there is more to life than simply teaching. I came here to teach History, but it seems that it is I who is doing the learning. I am referring to the discovery of the sensual pleasures of body and mind.
The things I have been introduced to would, I'm sure, make your eyes pop out and your hair curl. I feel that my destiny has been completely re-aligned by events here in the last 21 days. First, something that happened on only my second day.
A boy was caught masturbating the evening before in his dormitory by one of the women on duty. She reported it to the headmistress the following day and the boy was issued a request to attend the headmistress's study when lessons had ended for that day.
I was informed by the headmistress that I was to be present at a corrective procedure' scheduled for five o' clock. She deemed it would be in my interest to witness some of the methods of discipline used at the school. I was intrigued as to what this would entail, but did not anticipate the exciting spectacle to which I was to be subjected.
I sat next to the headmistress while two female tutors ushered a boy of no more than fourteen years inside. She then had him stand before her with his hands clasped politely behind his back while she recited the charge against him. She chose words deliberately intended to wound and shame him. He looked absolutely scarlet-faced and one could sense his trepidation. I felt some sympathy for him, but have to confess to a curious sense of excitement also at his humiliation and imminent punishment.
He was told to remove his lower clothing and tuck his shirt up. They then ordered him to lean forward over the back of an upturned wooden chair while they secured his hands and feet by means of four leather straps which were already attached to the chair. The chair had obviously been specially adapted for such purposes. The boy's hindquarters were thus presented conveniently and invitingly.
The two women tutors then selected a punishment instrument of their choice from the rack of canes on the wall - one woman preferring a whippy rattan, while the other favoured a stiff bamboo cane.
They then took it in turns to thrash the boy.
They beat him methodically until his entire lower half, his buttocks, the backs of his thighs, and his calves too, were covered in angry red welts.
The whole administration of this thrashing was undertaken in a slow, deliberate manner and with measured efficiency, quite devoid of emotion or pity. There would be an interval of about ten seconds between each bite of the cane. This was to give the boy time to think about each forthcoming stroke, thus increasing the tension, his humiliation and his suffering.
The whole thing was completed in about two minutes flat, so there must have been around twelve strokes in all, six from each tutor, although it appeared to be many more at the time. I remember glancing at my watch as the first strike made its mark -- 9:27 -- and then noticing the precise ten second interval that was allowed to elapse between subsequent strikes.
At one minute before half-past nine it was all over. The whole process of punishment had been performed with cool military precision.
The only person to show any sign of emotion was the headmistress who, while sitting there impassively for most of the time the correction' itself was taking place, nevertheless displayed a smug smile of triumph at the end in the defeat of this boy - although it was also noticeable that while the two women floggers' conducted themselves in a dignified and ladylike manner, they both ended up with what can only be described as a healthy glow to their respective complexions. They did, however, remain stoic and poker-faced.
Speaking for myself, my face also felt quite hot and flushed, but inside myself I felt a curious but extremely pleasant agitation.
When the two women had returned the canes they unbuckled the poor boy and hauled him to his feet (he was too weak to rise unaided) and helped him back into his clothing. The headmistress then complemented the tutors on the excellent execution of their work and reminded the victim to thank his `punishers' which was apparently normal protocol after such an event. This he was barely able to do because of the violent shaking and sobbing that had by now consumed his body. He mumbled incoherently through the hurt and tears, but appeared to satisfy the headmistress nonetheless. The two women then curtsied to the headmistress and led the boy back to his dormitory.
The headmistress then conferred to me that this was the boy's first time under the rod. She sounded very happy about it.
I was left feeling strangely moved by what I had witnessed. Instead of feeling shame at the cruel treatment of this boy by those in authority, I felt something stirring inside me, a taste for power and cruelty that hitherto I had been completely unaware of. Little did I know then, that a serpent had been awakened inside me and I would later learn that this particular reaction had been the premeditated intention of a certain number of my fellows.
I knew my presence had been used to by the headmistress for her own ends to accentuate the feeling of humiliation in the boy, especially as I was new to the school. It was as if our gloating at the poor wretch was just another element to add to his discomfiture. It disquieted me to know that I had found the episode entertaining when I should have been feeling at the very least a modicum of pity. The guilt troubled me only briefly. The mood among those present at the flogging was far from sombre. It was in fact particularly upbeat with certain factions of the chosen audience discussing and admiring the `floggers' faultless technique and attitude to the task.
It was as if my sense of right and wrong had been blurred in those few moments of witnessing that pitiless spectacle. What had previously been abhorrent in my life now held a feeling of promise and well-being.
I had watched a systematic and merciless attack on a defenceless young man's nether regions, making no attempt to help him when I knew things were going too far, and now I could not ignore or deny that I had felt some strange pleasure in witnessing this boy's suffering. It was as if something evil had been awakened inside of me and a door to a very dark room had been opened and I felt compelled to go in and submit to its spell.
This of course was the headmistress's intention -- to seduce me, corrupt me, to try and tap my darker side and make me like the rest of her flock. My reaction surprised me almost as much as the event itself. This inclination to gloat at other people's misfortunes from a position of power and comfort seems to be a basic human trait. It makes us feel superior over those less fortunate. We find a ghoulish stimulation in someone else's suffering. What is this macabre force which surfaces against our better intentions and causes us to act like pack animals?
When we were alone in her study the headmistress asked me if I was feeling all right, saying I looked a little peaky and insisted I should join her in a glass of fortifying grog before returning to my lodgings. I'm not sure what expression or demeanour I conveyed but my head was certainly swimming with lustful thoughts and I did feel a little light-headed.
She soon presented me with a large glass of port wine which went a long way to restoring my normal self again. I noticed my hand trembling as I took the glass from her, but the port had a calming effect on me. She chatted to me in a quiet but firm manner, which seemed completely at odds with the callous temperament she had displayed in the punishment of the boy.
I am impressed by her gentle charm and intelligence. She is able to me at ease when it suits her, displaying an easy facility for wit and warmth. At other times she can be dominating and quite frightening. She is very persuasive in getting you to see things from her point of view and I have to admit she seems to have an authoritative grasp on people, particularly her pupils and staff.
She avoided saying anything about what we'd just witnessed - that is, until I was about to leave when she said: "I think it fair to say you were surprised by what you saw, weren't you, Hillary? And probably didn't approve, hmm? If you were honest with yourself?
"But I know in your case that a connection has been made. You have been positively affected, although you may be reluctant to admit it. I can always tell. You may have been surprised, shocked even... but I know a large part of you enjoyed it as well.
"New members of staff are always... how can I put this... rather surprised when they first see the tough line we take on mistakes and misdemeanours. But the school has a first rate record of academic success and I'm certain that our methods of discipline have a lot to do with that success. I'd like very much to keep it that way. I do hope you can come to terms with the way we do things here. If you follow our methods it will stand you in good stead, and the boys have always benefited from their correction and discipline."
"I'm sure you're right." I set my glass down. "I really must go." I got up and started walking towards the door.
"Of course, it's been quite a day already, hasn't it, Hillary?" Her voice was silky smooth. "I hope you'll enjoy your time with us. We must get together for an evening soon."
"I think I'd like that, Miss Sterling." I stopped, turned and smiled at her, enjoying the warmth the port had brought to my breast. Her eyes sparkled.
She said: "Sooner or later I shall expect you to play your part in contributing to the methodology of this school. I think you know what I'm implying, don't you." Her tone was suddenly cool, as was her thin smile and I suddenly felt a little off guard. How quickly she was able to change her demeanour.
I nodded and thanked her for her hospitality, excused myself and went out. The headmistress's last two remarks seemed to cycle around inside my head for ages. It was as if I'd received some holy order that I felt obliged to obey.
When I got back to my room my face was hot and I was trembling from head to foot. My senses had been inflamed and I wasn't sure how to cool them. I'll leave it to your imagination, my dear Margie, on how I quelled these sudden feelings of what I can only describe as perverted lust.
If only I could have had your company immediately after that first episode I feel certain I would have sated my awakened passions in a hot fury upon your exquisite body.
I am astounded how quickly I have adapted to the school's methods and now enjoy as much as anyone the imposing of one's will on another and the infliction of cruelty on a helpless victim. Miss Sterling calls it the exploitation of power differential, and I think I know what she means. She has certainly empowered me and shown me how to use to my advantage my entrusted authority.
It has come as quite a surprise I can tell you, just what cruelties a human being is capable of, and the fact that we can take such delight in it also, especially when you are also influenced and encouraged to do so by one's peers. I believe, after only three short weeks, I am hopelessly addicted to the school's methods.
I know it is something we've never indulged in before, Margie, but I feel it would be in our favour to perhaps experiment with a little birching during our lovemaking sometimes. Not with each other, of course. I think it might be quite entertaining to have a nice-looking young man as our special guest one weekend at The Lodge. You could join me in bringing about my latest fantasy and we could flog away to our hearts' content. Does that sound deliciously salacious enough, my dear?
Can you imagine how wonderfully debauched and gratuitous it would be to have a sweet, innocent young man at our complete disposal? We could enjoy a whole weekend of flogging and torture. How the male of the species deserves to be treated that way and kept in its place. It has to learn that we women are far superior and will stop at nothing to prove and enforce that concept. Let me know what you think, I'm sure you'll warm to the idea.
(...to be continued in Part Two...)