andymr13
03-06-2008, 03:09 PM
I had been in my room for about half an hour packing my belongings into wardrobes and drawers and generally getting settled in, my hands were still very red and throbbing. My head was still in a spin – “what on earth have I got myself into?” I kept asking myself but every time I came back to the same conclusion – I was only reaping what I had sowed. I couldn’t leave the University; it would devastate my mother. I really wanted to gain my degree and I knew I had it in me to get a really good degree which could set me up for a lucrative career but I nearly had blown my chances.
I had read over a note that Mrs Lamont had left on my bedside table. It basically set out the terms and conditions of my lease. Breakfast at 7:30 every morning, dinner at 6:30pm (let Mrs L know that morning if you were not able to be at dinner), rooms to be kept tidy at all times, students to be washed and shaved before breakfast, no smoking or drinking at all in the house, no foul language - and so on. Basically the rules were not onerous and common sense would tell you that they were fair and would help to making your stay as easy going and comfortable as possible.
The rules did encourage the feeling that the residents were in some sort of foster home though and it was clear that Mr and Mrs Lamont were the foster parents. We were expected to observe a curfew of being in bed by 11:30pm on weekdays and by midnight on Fridays and Saturdays. The last condition reminded us that we agreed to be subjected to reasonable disciplinary impositions – including corporal punishment – if we broke any rules.
A knock came to the door and I opened it to find Bert standing there. “Hello again, I thought I’d drop by to introduce myself better. We only had a chance for a quick chat when I met you earlier. I take it you have decided to stay”.
I replied that I had no real choice but was finding it really difficult to come to terms with my new circumstances. The whole set up was a bit strange and was it the case that everybody staying at this place accepted these conditions?
“Of course we do” he replied without any hesitation. “What’s more, we all think we’ve landed on our feet here. Look here, the weekly rent is very reasonable indeed and has breakfast and dinner thrown in. OK some of us can’t be at dinner every night because of part time jobs and so on but the digs are spacious and very comfortable. All of us, and this includes you, are here because we messed up. We should have been out on our ears after the first term but the University has given us a second chance. We’ve all been guilty of being lazy or being badly organised, we’ve all lacked self discipline but the faculty thought we had the potential to get things right. There are a couple of other boarding houses across town that are on the same set up – the owners of the digs are there to support the students and get them back on track. The University refers students to these houses that they feel are worthy of a second chance. The University will only comment that they see that students in these accommodations do achieve much better results and quickly turn round their grades within a short period of time. I’m not sure if they know how the students are encouraged to achieve these results but no-one complains about their treatment”
“But it still doesn’t make it right” I said. “Hasn’t anyone gone to the police to complain, is this not a crime of assault”
“OK, we do that and we’re out on our ear. The police won’t bother as there are probably loads of lads under 21 getting walloped by their parents at home – it’s all perfectly legal. I was over 18 when I left school. A teacher could have told me to bend over for the cane right up to my last day at school. I’m only a couple of years older now – it’s not that long since I got my backside whacked at school, what’s so different now. Look get over it – it’s not a pleasant situation to be in at all. Nobody here wants to get punished but what we stand to lose is far more significant than our pride. Besides, the ball is in your court – toe the line and you will be fine. The only time you have to worry about being punished is when you fall short of expectations. It is possible to stay here for ages, possibly finish your degree course without any unpleasantness. Having said that, it is unlikely – the Lamonts are very old fashioned and sticklers for punctuality, manners and sticking to the rules”
“What about the Lamonts” I asked. “Are they not a bit on the weird side for getting into this set up”
“I don’t think so” Bert replied. “They are really good people. They have been teachers for years although Mrs Lamont retired early from teaching about 8 years ago. They’ve never had kids of their own and have been devoted to teaching since they began their careers in their 20’s. They genuinely want to help people, especially kids, achieve their full potential. They have been involved in the Boys Scouts and Girls Guides for ears as well and support all sorts of youth clubs and organisation. I think because they’ve never had their own family that they get a lot of enjoyment in helping out youth groups as much as they can. They are not so straight-laced either. They have a good sense of humour and know how to have fun. However, they are sticklers for discipline and know when to keep the kids under their supervision in line”
“But do you not get embarrassed being treated like a child by them – I just got belted by Mrs Lamont, I don’t know what I was thinking about by accepting it but she put me in the position of not really being able to refuse. She tells me that Mr Lamont is going to smack my bottom later tonight. Are they off their heads – do you let this happen to you?” I looked at Bert to see if there were any signs that he recognised that it was indeed a preposterous situation to be in but there were none.
“Just calm down” Bert smiled calmly as he spoke and sat down on my bed. “It’s difficult to take in I know, I was like that when I first came here – we all were – but nobody here regrets the day they were given their second chance. We all were screwing up and we needed help to get ourselves back on track. The hopeless cases were kicked out of University and their chance was blown. The majority were able to knuckle down and prove themselves capable of handling the extra responsibilities that University life brings. We fell between two stools and needed extra help. That’s where the Lamonts come in. They are good, decent people. They will take a genuine interest in you and will try to help you out. However, they have been used to a simple formula in their careers. Youngsters can be pushed to realise their full potential. They know by years of experience that if youngsters are left to their own devices that trouble will follow. The Lamonts have lived by a simple of code – they will be happy to teach, lead and offer support but where youngsters stray off the tracks then they will be brought back into line. The Lamonts have no qualms about dishing out punishment where it is deserved. They don’t see us as any different to the thousands of kids they have taught in their classes over 30 odd years. Maybe we’re not.
Bert continued with this theme “Is there any real difference in getting belted at 18 or 19? Probably not. A 21 year old is supposed to be an adult but if he carries on like a 12 year old should he not be treated like a 12 year old. That’s how the Lamonts see things. They have set down a set of standards that they argue that any responsible adult should be able to observe. Therefore, if you break any of these rules then you do not have the maturity to act as an adult. Behave like a child and you’ll be treated like a child. They look at us a being their charges. Just as they have no reservations about taking a belt to their pupils at school then they will do the same with us without any second thoughts. They are not the least embarrassed about disciplining us; they see it as their duty. Believe you me, it won’t be long before you find yourself accepting your situation here and if you are ever called into the study then you won’t bother too much about what is going to follow”
“What is Mr Lamont like” I asked, remembering that I had opened myself up to allow a strange man put me over his knee later that night. I was still not convinced that I should pack my bags and set off back home as soon as possible.
“You will enjoy meeting him” Bert replied. “Well hardly”, I thought but let him continue.
“He’s into his 50’s, he teaches French and Latin and is Depute Headmaster at the Grammar School. He should become Headmaster in the next year or so. He’s a good sort, quite funny in his own way and a good sense of humour. He’s quite even tempered but doesn’t suffer fools gladly. I believe he was decorated in the war but doesn’t say much about it. You will like him. Anyway I’d best get going – nearly time for dinner and I’ll get washed up before I see you downstairs. Take my advice, accept your lot here – you won’t regret it if you decide to stay. Everyone here is in the same boat – even Donald, who is across the way from your room, puts up with it and he’s nearly 25. Mind you – he can’t organise a raffle and is frequently late for appointments and getting into all sorts of bother here with his forgetfulness. He gets smacked the most around here – I’m sure he’s in trouble today already so you might find that MR L is having to deal with him as well as you later on”
“How often do people get punished around here – it seems like it’s a daily event? Is this some kind of a madhouse” I exclaimed.
“Not that often really – some more than others. Donald probably gets into trouble about 7 or 8 times a month because he’s so disorganised. The rest of us probably 3 or 4 times a month each – maybe a bit more if we’re not careful. Punctuality is THE big thing. Be a couple of minutes late and you’re guaranteed to get a couple of the belt or cane, a few minutes late and is going to be 6 of the best or a long slippering. More than half an hour late and you’ll be bawling like a 5 year old by the time their finished. Oh and by the way, Mrs Lamont won’t hesitate to take your trousers and pants down and turn you over her knee either – and she can lay it on as hard, if not harder than he can”
With that parting shot, Bert left the room. I finished packing my things away and went downstairs just after ten past six. I was approaching the foot of the stairs across the hallway from the study door that was partly open when I heard the distinctive sound of a leather tawse cracking across its target followed by a distinctive yelp from the victim. “Other hand up now” barked a male voice followed a few seconds later by a second loud crack and a louder yelp of pain. I stooped on the stairs for a second or two and heard the male voice say “and we’ll have less of that language here if you don’t mind thank you – learned your lesson lad?
“Yes sir” came the reply weakly. “Right get out and we’ll have no more nonsense from you tonight” retorted the older voice. A couple of seconds later the door opened and a tall young man wandered out with his hands tucked up under his armpits. He stopped in surprise as he saw a stranger stand at the foot of the stairs and seemed to be taken aback at my presence. “Oh hello there” he mumbled and gave a brief nod and continued his way in the large drawing room where I had previously been interviewed by Mrs Lamont. He blushed slightly at his embarrassment in front of a stranger – I wasn’t sure who was blushing the most.
However my embarrassment at his predicament was broken a moment or two later by the first voice I recognised “Ah you must be James, I’m Donald Lamont – how do you do”
I turned to the area of the study door and saw Mr Lamont stride across towards me with this hand extended. I was not sure what to expect but Mr Lamont was every inch the archetypal headmaster figure. He was smartly dressed in a dark tweed suit. He had salt a pepper hair that was neatly groomed and slicked back with a slight coating of oil or Brylcreem. He was clean-shaven and his shoes were highly polished – obviously one for not slacking in appearances. He was very tall and well built, like his wife he was sturdy but not overweight. He struck me as being a rugby player in his younger days that he confirmed to me in a later conversation. As I descended down the last couple of steps to shake his hand, I soon realised that I had underestimated his height from my higher vantage point.
I was coming up for 5’ 9” if I breathed in and stretched my back and neck as fully as I could but I was in reality about half an inch to an inch shorter than I kidded myself on. I was looking at Mr Lamont at eye level but as I descended from one step to another I immediately shrank a good 3 or 4 inches from eye level. When I stood at the foot of the stairs and shook his hand I was gazing upwards at a fit, athletic 54 year old who must have stood a 6’ 5” in his socks. He gripped my hand and pumped it up and down a few times and I could make out that he was uttering words of welcome at me.
“Nice to meet you …….. hoe you enjoy your stay with us…….. let us know if there is anything we can do to make you more comfortable……. Hope you will be happy here, and so on”
I didn’t really take in to much but nodded and smiled and replied with the usual pleasantries “Thank you sir …… yes I’m sure everything will be fine etc, etc”. What I was really thinking is that this is the biggest man I’ve every seen AND I’ve more or less given my consent to allow this man to give me a beating whenever he sees fit. I must be mad. He towered over me and must have weighed at least 8 stones more than me. His hands were like shovels and my hand was totally enveloped in his massive fist. He gave my hand a tight squeeze but I could feel my hands crumple under the pressure and I winced as the pain of my earlier belting shot up my arms and rang alarm bells in my head. I winced with the sensation of the squeeze.
“Sorry about that” he apologised seeing my eyes screw up slightly as I winced “I forget my own strength plus I forgot that my wife has already spoken to you” he winked knowingly. “Let’s have a chat before dinner” he said a he put his hands round my shoulder and guided me towards the study.
“Oh no” I thought. “this is it, he’s going to give me a leathering” I was almost on the point of saying that I’d had enough of this situation and I was calling it off when he motioned me to an armchair beside a warm fire. He sat in a chair at the other side of the fire and he began to ask a few questions.
“Do you prefer James or Jim … what are you studying ………..where is you home ……what about brothers and sisters”. He spoke in very friendly tones and the chat was very light hearted and I immediately felt comfortable in his company. My unease about getting hit by him was still festering at the back of my mind. I imagined if he was going to take his turn at beating me up then it was coming soon and as the clock moved 6:30 when I knew that dinner would be served I began to think that he wasn’t leaving much time for the event. At that point, I had made up my mind that I would refuse any punishment and was set on leaving the house.
We then spoke about my mother. He asked how she was keeping and how often did I write or telephone her and how often did I get back home to visit. I told him she was widowed and looked after my younger brother – my older brother had married a couple of years before and had moved out of our home.
“Your mother must have found it hard to look after the three of you on her own for so many years” Mr Lamont observed. “She must have made many sacrifices to get you to University” he commented. “Are you not disappointed, or even ashamed to have returned her hard work with such a poor effort?” The lecture was quietly delivered but it didn’t miss its target. He looked me in the eye but I had to lower my gaze as I was ashamed and couldn’t argue one point in my defence.
After a silence that lasted a minute or two but seemed like an hour, Mr Lamont broke the stillness “I understand my wife has outlined the way we operate here” I nodded that I understood his question.
“Very well then, I will speak to you again later this evening – now let us go thought to dinner and meet the rest of the household. Remember one thing Jim, everybody here is in the same boat as you. Don’t be embarrassed or ashamed. You have all made mistakes and are trying your best to remedy them. You will succeed or pay the consequences in the same way as everyone else. Is that clear”.
“Yes sir” I whispered. My shame was exposed in a matter of minutes.
Over dinner I was introduced to 8 other residents, the others were still at the University on their studies or working. Alan was the chap who was belted just before dinner and he and Mr Lamont spoke with each other totally at ease. Obviously there was no resentment at his treatment whatsoever. Bert told a couple of jokes and the whole atmosphere was friendly and cosy – almost like a big extended family. The Lamonts were excellent hosts and my fellow students spoke to them at ease but with obvious respect and admiration.
The only cloud on the proceedings came about 7pm when a chap in his mid 20’s burst into the house and threw books down in a chair inside the dining room door. “Oh gosh, sorry I’m so late I didn’t notice the time when I was in the library”.
He sat down at a spare seat and asked, “I did say I would be at dinner tonight, I’m sorry for being late but will understand if you haven’t kept anything back for me” .
That must be Donald I thought and my opinions were confirmed when Mr Lamont informed him that his dinner was warming in the oven. “However, Donald, you know our views on punctuality – you obviously need a reminder and I will be happy to oblige after dinner”
“Yes Mr Lamont, sorry again. I just didn’t notice the time” he blurted.
Dinner finished shortly afterwards and we retired to the drawing room, some went to their rooms to study and other went out for a walk or to visit friends. I went upstairs to finish unpacking and to gather my thoughts.
Over dinner, I could hardly keep up polite conversation as I turned over in my head again and again what Mr Lamont said. My mother had made real sacrifices for me and I let her down badly. I had nearly blown my prospects away through selfishness and immaturity. The Lamonts hit the nail on the head – I was not capable of behaving as an adult should but wanted to be regarded as one. I was a complete waste of space. I knew that I had everything I had coming to me. Behave like a child and get treated as a child. Not only did I deserve the belting I got from Mrs Lamont earlier I fully deserved everything that Mr Lamont had lined up. Getting smacked was going to be embarrassing but in fact I would have no arguments if he said that he was going to take me outside and beat me to a pulp.
I started writing to my mum to tell her of my new address and was half way into the letter when another knock came to the door. It was just after 9pm. I called for the person knocking to come in and was surprised to see Donald enter the room. He introduced himself briefly and quickly said “Mr Lamont wants to see us in his study”
I nodded to show that I understood and Donald just gave a rueful grin and said “Let’s get it over with then. You’d better visit the bathroom now if you have to” but this was not required
He led and I followed. He was much smaller than I was and very slimly built. His hair was thick and untidy but otherwise he was clean and tidy. He was wearing a grey shirt and black trousers that fitted neatly on his slim frame. We trotted downstairs and Donald knocked on the study door which again was partly open, looked inside and then nodded back in my direction and we both stepped inside.
“Ah!, Donald and Jim, come in – close that door Jim will you please there’s a good lad” Mr Lamont spoke still in very friendly tones. “There’s no need to beat about bush is there” he continued, “You both know why you are here, is that not correct? Before we continue does anyone feel that they do not deserve their punishment? Donald?, Jim?” he queried.
We both looked at the floor as we replied “No sir”. The butterflies were churning round in my stomach. Maybe I should have visited the bathroom first.
By this time Mr Lamont had removed his jacket and was in his shirtsleeves. His shirt was not baggy and outlined his torso which was not flabby at all. He was a very fit man. He placed an armless chair in the middle of the room and sat down. “Donald, you know the routine well, come here lad” Mr Lamont wagged his finger in an beckoning motion.
Donald walked up to the seated Mr Lamont and stood at his right hand side. His back was fully turned to me and I saw Mr Lamont in profile. Donald stood with his hands at his side and no dialogue was exchanged. “What’s going on now” I thought. Nothing seemed to be happening. I say Donald twitch a couple of times and thought that he was getting ready to move over Mr Lamont’s knees but he remained standing. The next thing I saw was Mr Lamont’s hands move to the waistband of Donald’s trousers and pull them down to his knees. I was blushing at Donald’s embarrassment but he didn’t seem to mind. Then I saw Mr Lamont slide his hands up below Donald’s shirt and a few seconds later say his white briefs being lowered down his thighs.
Mr Lamont then reached round and placed his hand into the small of Donald’s back and quietly said “Right Donald – get yourself over my knee”
Donald bent forward and with Mr Lamont’s assistance lay over his lap. Mr Lamont pulled up his feet right under the seat at 90 degrees and gripping Donald round the waist lifted him forward over his knees a few inches. Donald’s feet left the ground and I watched as his shoulders and head slipped down the left hand side. His left arm was tucked up at his side but Mr Lamont told him to put his arm down towards the floor which he duly did. Donald was completely stretched over Mr Lamont’s knee with his toes dangling an inch or two above the carpet and his fingertips propping him up at the other side.
“Half an hour late is not acceptable my lad” said Mr Lamont as he lifted up Donald’s shirttails and laid them clear of his waist. Donald was far more scrawny and slimly built than I had thought. Mr Lamont laid his massive hand across Donald’s bottom and it covered about three quarters of his right buttock. He patted the right cheek a couple of times and the raised his hand in the air and brought it crashing down to the lower part of his right buttock. He raised his hand a second time and delivers a firm blow to the left side. He continued with a steady pace and before long I could see Donald’s bottom growing redder and redder as the smacks covered the whole target area. After a couple of minutes, he began to quicken the pace and often kept half a dozen smacks to the same cheek. Donald’s legs were beginning to jerk up and down with each blow by this time and once or twice he clenched his buttocks together only to be reprimanded with a “Relax your bottom, stop clenching” command from Mr Lamont.
The smacks were resounding round the room. Donald was beginning to kick his legs with each smack and was squirming across Mr Lamont’s knees. However, Mr Lamont had him fixed in place with his left arm pulling his in tightly to his body. They really were ill-matched combatants. Donald was almost literally half Mr Lamont’s size and could never extricate himself from his present predicament.
I was thinking that Donald was taking his punishment well after 3 or 4 minutes had lapsed. By this time his bottom was crimson and although he was kicking his legs from time to time he was keeping his position well. The smacking continued to gather pace and then I saw Donald’s right are try to reach behind to cover his bottom but it was pointless. Mr Lamont had him pinned firmly in place and by turning his left shoulder down slightly was able to “ring” Donald in so that his hand could never reach round far enough to protect his bottom.
Then I began to hear him quietly sob. At first it was a quiet plea of “No, please no more” but he knew that this would fall on deaf ears. As Mr Lamont continued, the sobs grew louder and louder. Eventually the tears flowed freely and Donald was crying out without any attempt at “taking it like a man”. It was odd to see a 25 year old being treated like a 12 year old and crying his eyes out like a 12 year old. Then the realisation hit me that that would be me in a few minutes.
Mr Lamont eventually began to slow down and the last few smacks were delivered very slowly and with full force that extracted a loud yelp of pain as each blow fell. He stopped after 5 minutes or so and rested his hand across Donald’s bottom and waited for a couple or minutes for Donald to compose himself. His shoulders were still shaking with each sob and Donald was rubbing his hands across his eyes. Eventually his tears subsided and Mr Lamont relaxed his grip round his waist, patted his bottom a couple of times and said “Right my lad, you can get up”
He assisted Donald to get up and resume his position at his right side. Donald’s trousers and briefs had been kicked down to his ankles by this time and Mr Lamont bent to the side and helped down to raise his clothes and get himself clothed. Once he was dressed again Mr Lamont reprimanded him with a “I hope that you learned your lesson my lad” and gave him a parting slap across his bottom and told Donald to stand aside.
The whole event was captivating to watch in its own way and I had almost forgot that I was an involved party. That was until Mr Lamont then looked across in my direction and I saw his finger beckoning towards me.
“Right my lad, I do believe it’s your turn……………”
I had read over a note that Mrs Lamont had left on my bedside table. It basically set out the terms and conditions of my lease. Breakfast at 7:30 every morning, dinner at 6:30pm (let Mrs L know that morning if you were not able to be at dinner), rooms to be kept tidy at all times, students to be washed and shaved before breakfast, no smoking or drinking at all in the house, no foul language - and so on. Basically the rules were not onerous and common sense would tell you that they were fair and would help to making your stay as easy going and comfortable as possible.
The rules did encourage the feeling that the residents were in some sort of foster home though and it was clear that Mr and Mrs Lamont were the foster parents. We were expected to observe a curfew of being in bed by 11:30pm on weekdays and by midnight on Fridays and Saturdays. The last condition reminded us that we agreed to be subjected to reasonable disciplinary impositions – including corporal punishment – if we broke any rules.
A knock came to the door and I opened it to find Bert standing there. “Hello again, I thought I’d drop by to introduce myself better. We only had a chance for a quick chat when I met you earlier. I take it you have decided to stay”.
I replied that I had no real choice but was finding it really difficult to come to terms with my new circumstances. The whole set up was a bit strange and was it the case that everybody staying at this place accepted these conditions?
“Of course we do” he replied without any hesitation. “What’s more, we all think we’ve landed on our feet here. Look here, the weekly rent is very reasonable indeed and has breakfast and dinner thrown in. OK some of us can’t be at dinner every night because of part time jobs and so on but the digs are spacious and very comfortable. All of us, and this includes you, are here because we messed up. We should have been out on our ears after the first term but the University has given us a second chance. We’ve all been guilty of being lazy or being badly organised, we’ve all lacked self discipline but the faculty thought we had the potential to get things right. There are a couple of other boarding houses across town that are on the same set up – the owners of the digs are there to support the students and get them back on track. The University refers students to these houses that they feel are worthy of a second chance. The University will only comment that they see that students in these accommodations do achieve much better results and quickly turn round their grades within a short period of time. I’m not sure if they know how the students are encouraged to achieve these results but no-one complains about their treatment”
“But it still doesn’t make it right” I said. “Hasn’t anyone gone to the police to complain, is this not a crime of assault”
“OK, we do that and we’re out on our ear. The police won’t bother as there are probably loads of lads under 21 getting walloped by their parents at home – it’s all perfectly legal. I was over 18 when I left school. A teacher could have told me to bend over for the cane right up to my last day at school. I’m only a couple of years older now – it’s not that long since I got my backside whacked at school, what’s so different now. Look get over it – it’s not a pleasant situation to be in at all. Nobody here wants to get punished but what we stand to lose is far more significant than our pride. Besides, the ball is in your court – toe the line and you will be fine. The only time you have to worry about being punished is when you fall short of expectations. It is possible to stay here for ages, possibly finish your degree course without any unpleasantness. Having said that, it is unlikely – the Lamonts are very old fashioned and sticklers for punctuality, manners and sticking to the rules”
“What about the Lamonts” I asked. “Are they not a bit on the weird side for getting into this set up”
“I don’t think so” Bert replied. “They are really good people. They have been teachers for years although Mrs Lamont retired early from teaching about 8 years ago. They’ve never had kids of their own and have been devoted to teaching since they began their careers in their 20’s. They genuinely want to help people, especially kids, achieve their full potential. They have been involved in the Boys Scouts and Girls Guides for ears as well and support all sorts of youth clubs and organisation. I think because they’ve never had their own family that they get a lot of enjoyment in helping out youth groups as much as they can. They are not so straight-laced either. They have a good sense of humour and know how to have fun. However, they are sticklers for discipline and know when to keep the kids under their supervision in line”
“But do you not get embarrassed being treated like a child by them – I just got belted by Mrs Lamont, I don’t know what I was thinking about by accepting it but she put me in the position of not really being able to refuse. She tells me that Mr Lamont is going to smack my bottom later tonight. Are they off their heads – do you let this happen to you?” I looked at Bert to see if there were any signs that he recognised that it was indeed a preposterous situation to be in but there were none.
“Just calm down” Bert smiled calmly as he spoke and sat down on my bed. “It’s difficult to take in I know, I was like that when I first came here – we all were – but nobody here regrets the day they were given their second chance. We all were screwing up and we needed help to get ourselves back on track. The hopeless cases were kicked out of University and their chance was blown. The majority were able to knuckle down and prove themselves capable of handling the extra responsibilities that University life brings. We fell between two stools and needed extra help. That’s where the Lamonts come in. They are good, decent people. They will take a genuine interest in you and will try to help you out. However, they have been used to a simple formula in their careers. Youngsters can be pushed to realise their full potential. They know by years of experience that if youngsters are left to their own devices that trouble will follow. The Lamonts have lived by a simple of code – they will be happy to teach, lead and offer support but where youngsters stray off the tracks then they will be brought back into line. The Lamonts have no qualms about dishing out punishment where it is deserved. They don’t see us as any different to the thousands of kids they have taught in their classes over 30 odd years. Maybe we’re not.
Bert continued with this theme “Is there any real difference in getting belted at 18 or 19? Probably not. A 21 year old is supposed to be an adult but if he carries on like a 12 year old should he not be treated like a 12 year old. That’s how the Lamonts see things. They have set down a set of standards that they argue that any responsible adult should be able to observe. Therefore, if you break any of these rules then you do not have the maturity to act as an adult. Behave like a child and you’ll be treated like a child. They look at us a being their charges. Just as they have no reservations about taking a belt to their pupils at school then they will do the same with us without any second thoughts. They are not the least embarrassed about disciplining us; they see it as their duty. Believe you me, it won’t be long before you find yourself accepting your situation here and if you are ever called into the study then you won’t bother too much about what is going to follow”
“What is Mr Lamont like” I asked, remembering that I had opened myself up to allow a strange man put me over his knee later that night. I was still not convinced that I should pack my bags and set off back home as soon as possible.
“You will enjoy meeting him” Bert replied. “Well hardly”, I thought but let him continue.
“He’s into his 50’s, he teaches French and Latin and is Depute Headmaster at the Grammar School. He should become Headmaster in the next year or so. He’s a good sort, quite funny in his own way and a good sense of humour. He’s quite even tempered but doesn’t suffer fools gladly. I believe he was decorated in the war but doesn’t say much about it. You will like him. Anyway I’d best get going – nearly time for dinner and I’ll get washed up before I see you downstairs. Take my advice, accept your lot here – you won’t regret it if you decide to stay. Everyone here is in the same boat – even Donald, who is across the way from your room, puts up with it and he’s nearly 25. Mind you – he can’t organise a raffle and is frequently late for appointments and getting into all sorts of bother here with his forgetfulness. He gets smacked the most around here – I’m sure he’s in trouble today already so you might find that MR L is having to deal with him as well as you later on”
“How often do people get punished around here – it seems like it’s a daily event? Is this some kind of a madhouse” I exclaimed.
“Not that often really – some more than others. Donald probably gets into trouble about 7 or 8 times a month because he’s so disorganised. The rest of us probably 3 or 4 times a month each – maybe a bit more if we’re not careful. Punctuality is THE big thing. Be a couple of minutes late and you’re guaranteed to get a couple of the belt or cane, a few minutes late and is going to be 6 of the best or a long slippering. More than half an hour late and you’ll be bawling like a 5 year old by the time their finished. Oh and by the way, Mrs Lamont won’t hesitate to take your trousers and pants down and turn you over her knee either – and she can lay it on as hard, if not harder than he can”
With that parting shot, Bert left the room. I finished packing my things away and went downstairs just after ten past six. I was approaching the foot of the stairs across the hallway from the study door that was partly open when I heard the distinctive sound of a leather tawse cracking across its target followed by a distinctive yelp from the victim. “Other hand up now” barked a male voice followed a few seconds later by a second loud crack and a louder yelp of pain. I stooped on the stairs for a second or two and heard the male voice say “and we’ll have less of that language here if you don’t mind thank you – learned your lesson lad?
“Yes sir” came the reply weakly. “Right get out and we’ll have no more nonsense from you tonight” retorted the older voice. A couple of seconds later the door opened and a tall young man wandered out with his hands tucked up under his armpits. He stopped in surprise as he saw a stranger stand at the foot of the stairs and seemed to be taken aback at my presence. “Oh hello there” he mumbled and gave a brief nod and continued his way in the large drawing room where I had previously been interviewed by Mrs Lamont. He blushed slightly at his embarrassment in front of a stranger – I wasn’t sure who was blushing the most.
However my embarrassment at his predicament was broken a moment or two later by the first voice I recognised “Ah you must be James, I’m Donald Lamont – how do you do”
I turned to the area of the study door and saw Mr Lamont stride across towards me with this hand extended. I was not sure what to expect but Mr Lamont was every inch the archetypal headmaster figure. He was smartly dressed in a dark tweed suit. He had salt a pepper hair that was neatly groomed and slicked back with a slight coating of oil or Brylcreem. He was clean-shaven and his shoes were highly polished – obviously one for not slacking in appearances. He was very tall and well built, like his wife he was sturdy but not overweight. He struck me as being a rugby player in his younger days that he confirmed to me in a later conversation. As I descended down the last couple of steps to shake his hand, I soon realised that I had underestimated his height from my higher vantage point.
I was coming up for 5’ 9” if I breathed in and stretched my back and neck as fully as I could but I was in reality about half an inch to an inch shorter than I kidded myself on. I was looking at Mr Lamont at eye level but as I descended from one step to another I immediately shrank a good 3 or 4 inches from eye level. When I stood at the foot of the stairs and shook his hand I was gazing upwards at a fit, athletic 54 year old who must have stood a 6’ 5” in his socks. He gripped my hand and pumped it up and down a few times and I could make out that he was uttering words of welcome at me.
“Nice to meet you …….. hoe you enjoy your stay with us…….. let us know if there is anything we can do to make you more comfortable……. Hope you will be happy here, and so on”
I didn’t really take in to much but nodded and smiled and replied with the usual pleasantries “Thank you sir …… yes I’m sure everything will be fine etc, etc”. What I was really thinking is that this is the biggest man I’ve every seen AND I’ve more or less given my consent to allow this man to give me a beating whenever he sees fit. I must be mad. He towered over me and must have weighed at least 8 stones more than me. His hands were like shovels and my hand was totally enveloped in his massive fist. He gave my hand a tight squeeze but I could feel my hands crumple under the pressure and I winced as the pain of my earlier belting shot up my arms and rang alarm bells in my head. I winced with the sensation of the squeeze.
“Sorry about that” he apologised seeing my eyes screw up slightly as I winced “I forget my own strength plus I forgot that my wife has already spoken to you” he winked knowingly. “Let’s have a chat before dinner” he said a he put his hands round my shoulder and guided me towards the study.
“Oh no” I thought. “this is it, he’s going to give me a leathering” I was almost on the point of saying that I’d had enough of this situation and I was calling it off when he motioned me to an armchair beside a warm fire. He sat in a chair at the other side of the fire and he began to ask a few questions.
“Do you prefer James or Jim … what are you studying ………..where is you home ……what about brothers and sisters”. He spoke in very friendly tones and the chat was very light hearted and I immediately felt comfortable in his company. My unease about getting hit by him was still festering at the back of my mind. I imagined if he was going to take his turn at beating me up then it was coming soon and as the clock moved 6:30 when I knew that dinner would be served I began to think that he wasn’t leaving much time for the event. At that point, I had made up my mind that I would refuse any punishment and was set on leaving the house.
We then spoke about my mother. He asked how she was keeping and how often did I write or telephone her and how often did I get back home to visit. I told him she was widowed and looked after my younger brother – my older brother had married a couple of years before and had moved out of our home.
“Your mother must have found it hard to look after the three of you on her own for so many years” Mr Lamont observed. “She must have made many sacrifices to get you to University” he commented. “Are you not disappointed, or even ashamed to have returned her hard work with such a poor effort?” The lecture was quietly delivered but it didn’t miss its target. He looked me in the eye but I had to lower my gaze as I was ashamed and couldn’t argue one point in my defence.
After a silence that lasted a minute or two but seemed like an hour, Mr Lamont broke the stillness “I understand my wife has outlined the way we operate here” I nodded that I understood his question.
“Very well then, I will speak to you again later this evening – now let us go thought to dinner and meet the rest of the household. Remember one thing Jim, everybody here is in the same boat as you. Don’t be embarrassed or ashamed. You have all made mistakes and are trying your best to remedy them. You will succeed or pay the consequences in the same way as everyone else. Is that clear”.
“Yes sir” I whispered. My shame was exposed in a matter of minutes.
Over dinner I was introduced to 8 other residents, the others were still at the University on their studies or working. Alan was the chap who was belted just before dinner and he and Mr Lamont spoke with each other totally at ease. Obviously there was no resentment at his treatment whatsoever. Bert told a couple of jokes and the whole atmosphere was friendly and cosy – almost like a big extended family. The Lamonts were excellent hosts and my fellow students spoke to them at ease but with obvious respect and admiration.
The only cloud on the proceedings came about 7pm when a chap in his mid 20’s burst into the house and threw books down in a chair inside the dining room door. “Oh gosh, sorry I’m so late I didn’t notice the time when I was in the library”.
He sat down at a spare seat and asked, “I did say I would be at dinner tonight, I’m sorry for being late but will understand if you haven’t kept anything back for me” .
That must be Donald I thought and my opinions were confirmed when Mr Lamont informed him that his dinner was warming in the oven. “However, Donald, you know our views on punctuality – you obviously need a reminder and I will be happy to oblige after dinner”
“Yes Mr Lamont, sorry again. I just didn’t notice the time” he blurted.
Dinner finished shortly afterwards and we retired to the drawing room, some went to their rooms to study and other went out for a walk or to visit friends. I went upstairs to finish unpacking and to gather my thoughts.
Over dinner, I could hardly keep up polite conversation as I turned over in my head again and again what Mr Lamont said. My mother had made real sacrifices for me and I let her down badly. I had nearly blown my prospects away through selfishness and immaturity. The Lamonts hit the nail on the head – I was not capable of behaving as an adult should but wanted to be regarded as one. I was a complete waste of space. I knew that I had everything I had coming to me. Behave like a child and get treated as a child. Not only did I deserve the belting I got from Mrs Lamont earlier I fully deserved everything that Mr Lamont had lined up. Getting smacked was going to be embarrassing but in fact I would have no arguments if he said that he was going to take me outside and beat me to a pulp.
I started writing to my mum to tell her of my new address and was half way into the letter when another knock came to the door. It was just after 9pm. I called for the person knocking to come in and was surprised to see Donald enter the room. He introduced himself briefly and quickly said “Mr Lamont wants to see us in his study”
I nodded to show that I understood and Donald just gave a rueful grin and said “Let’s get it over with then. You’d better visit the bathroom now if you have to” but this was not required
He led and I followed. He was much smaller than I was and very slimly built. His hair was thick and untidy but otherwise he was clean and tidy. He was wearing a grey shirt and black trousers that fitted neatly on his slim frame. We trotted downstairs and Donald knocked on the study door which again was partly open, looked inside and then nodded back in my direction and we both stepped inside.
“Ah!, Donald and Jim, come in – close that door Jim will you please there’s a good lad” Mr Lamont spoke still in very friendly tones. “There’s no need to beat about bush is there” he continued, “You both know why you are here, is that not correct? Before we continue does anyone feel that they do not deserve their punishment? Donald?, Jim?” he queried.
We both looked at the floor as we replied “No sir”. The butterflies were churning round in my stomach. Maybe I should have visited the bathroom first.
By this time Mr Lamont had removed his jacket and was in his shirtsleeves. His shirt was not baggy and outlined his torso which was not flabby at all. He was a very fit man. He placed an armless chair in the middle of the room and sat down. “Donald, you know the routine well, come here lad” Mr Lamont wagged his finger in an beckoning motion.
Donald walked up to the seated Mr Lamont and stood at his right hand side. His back was fully turned to me and I saw Mr Lamont in profile. Donald stood with his hands at his side and no dialogue was exchanged. “What’s going on now” I thought. Nothing seemed to be happening. I say Donald twitch a couple of times and thought that he was getting ready to move over Mr Lamont’s knees but he remained standing. The next thing I saw was Mr Lamont’s hands move to the waistband of Donald’s trousers and pull them down to his knees. I was blushing at Donald’s embarrassment but he didn’t seem to mind. Then I saw Mr Lamont slide his hands up below Donald’s shirt and a few seconds later say his white briefs being lowered down his thighs.
Mr Lamont then reached round and placed his hand into the small of Donald’s back and quietly said “Right Donald – get yourself over my knee”
Donald bent forward and with Mr Lamont’s assistance lay over his lap. Mr Lamont pulled up his feet right under the seat at 90 degrees and gripping Donald round the waist lifted him forward over his knees a few inches. Donald’s feet left the ground and I watched as his shoulders and head slipped down the left hand side. His left arm was tucked up at his side but Mr Lamont told him to put his arm down towards the floor which he duly did. Donald was completely stretched over Mr Lamont’s knee with his toes dangling an inch or two above the carpet and his fingertips propping him up at the other side.
“Half an hour late is not acceptable my lad” said Mr Lamont as he lifted up Donald’s shirttails and laid them clear of his waist. Donald was far more scrawny and slimly built than I had thought. Mr Lamont laid his massive hand across Donald’s bottom and it covered about three quarters of his right buttock. He patted the right cheek a couple of times and the raised his hand in the air and brought it crashing down to the lower part of his right buttock. He raised his hand a second time and delivers a firm blow to the left side. He continued with a steady pace and before long I could see Donald’s bottom growing redder and redder as the smacks covered the whole target area. After a couple of minutes, he began to quicken the pace and often kept half a dozen smacks to the same cheek. Donald’s legs were beginning to jerk up and down with each blow by this time and once or twice he clenched his buttocks together only to be reprimanded with a “Relax your bottom, stop clenching” command from Mr Lamont.
The smacks were resounding round the room. Donald was beginning to kick his legs with each smack and was squirming across Mr Lamont’s knees. However, Mr Lamont had him fixed in place with his left arm pulling his in tightly to his body. They really were ill-matched combatants. Donald was almost literally half Mr Lamont’s size and could never extricate himself from his present predicament.
I was thinking that Donald was taking his punishment well after 3 or 4 minutes had lapsed. By this time his bottom was crimson and although he was kicking his legs from time to time he was keeping his position well. The smacking continued to gather pace and then I saw Donald’s right are try to reach behind to cover his bottom but it was pointless. Mr Lamont had him pinned firmly in place and by turning his left shoulder down slightly was able to “ring” Donald in so that his hand could never reach round far enough to protect his bottom.
Then I began to hear him quietly sob. At first it was a quiet plea of “No, please no more” but he knew that this would fall on deaf ears. As Mr Lamont continued, the sobs grew louder and louder. Eventually the tears flowed freely and Donald was crying out without any attempt at “taking it like a man”. It was odd to see a 25 year old being treated like a 12 year old and crying his eyes out like a 12 year old. Then the realisation hit me that that would be me in a few minutes.
Mr Lamont eventually began to slow down and the last few smacks were delivered very slowly and with full force that extracted a loud yelp of pain as each blow fell. He stopped after 5 minutes or so and rested his hand across Donald’s bottom and waited for a couple or minutes for Donald to compose himself. His shoulders were still shaking with each sob and Donald was rubbing his hands across his eyes. Eventually his tears subsided and Mr Lamont relaxed his grip round his waist, patted his bottom a couple of times and said “Right my lad, you can get up”
He assisted Donald to get up and resume his position at his right side. Donald’s trousers and briefs had been kicked down to his ankles by this time and Mr Lamont bent to the side and helped down to raise his clothes and get himself clothed. Once he was dressed again Mr Lamont reprimanded him with a “I hope that you learned your lesson my lad” and gave him a parting slap across his bottom and told Donald to stand aside.
The whole event was captivating to watch in its own way and I had almost forgot that I was an involved party. That was until Mr Lamont then looked across in my direction and I saw his finger beckoning towards me.
“Right my lad, I do believe it’s your turn……………”