Aetiology of a caning fetish



I have a thing about cp (caning and being caned in particular).** It all stems from my school days in an all-boys public boarding school in Kent. The cane was used extensively by prefects. One such prefect - my head of house - was a particularly ferocious user of the cane and most evenings there would be a queue of unfortunate miscreants waiting outside his study. Even the most minor infringements were seized upon as an excuse for a caning. For instance, only sixth-formers were allowed to go about with the buttons unfastened on their jackets. Lesser mortals had to fasten at least the middle button! I was caned more than once for breaking that ridiculous custom. During my early time at the school - I was there for five years - I was caned most weeks for something. And even in my later teens I was caned fairly regularly - once for being caught in a pub and another time for being seen with a girl from the town. Each evening, after supper, a list would be posted of the names of those boys who were to report to the head of house. The list included the offence for which we were being summoned and anyone on the list knew that he was to receive the cane. We had to be outside his study at 9.15pm, in our pyjamas. (Lights out was at 9.30pm.) When he was ready the head of house would call us in; together if there was more than one of us -as was usually the case. The reason we were being punished would be briefly re-stated and then we’d be told to strip in readiness. So there we would be standing naked and wondering which of us would go first. I think most of us much preferred to get it all over with as waiting was hard on the nerves. Either way we watched, or were ourselves watched, as the punishments were meted out to us. Aside from the caning itself I think that for most boys one of the things foremost in his mind was the fear of crying and losing face in front of others. So we all tried hard to keep that typical British ‘stiff upper lip’. Though I do remember occasions when that was simply not possible. Whatever the offence the punishment was always six strokes; and there was no holding back. The strokes were as hard as the prefects could make them - and they hurt. They also left livid bruises which lasted several days and made sitting uncomfortable. The strangest thing is, however, that after a time I found that I became aroused by it all; which added another dimension to things. I certainly didn’t want anyone to see how it excited me but, being naked for most of the proceedings, it wasn’t always easy to hide. Most times, as soon as I was back in the dormitory and in my bed I would masturbate. And here I am, all of 50 years later, still aroused by the idea of being caned or caning someone. In fact many of my best fantasies revolve around caning - usually with me caning women (though at heart I am a very gentle individual). Recurrent themes in my imagination are the waiting, the feeling of fear before being punished, the degradation, being naked in front of others, being touched without one’s consent, and being punished for no good reason.

I am always interested in hearing from others about their experiences and feelings - do please write to me.