A Tale of Two Canings
“Right Matthews, six more strokes and your caning is over,” announced Mr Jones the Deputy Headmaster in his soft, yet authoritative Welsh tones. With his trousers and underpants around his ankles, Alan Matthews breathed heavily and gripped the far edge of the desk ever tighter knowing that if the remainder of his caning was as merciless as the twelve strokes he had already received, his scorched and throbbing buttocks would feel like they had been positively flame-grilled by the time the cane...