The black, blue, red, green, yellow badge of courage

I was caught throwing paperwads in class and I was sent to the office with two other guys. I had been in the office earlier that week and this in those days would get you a leather strapping across your **.

The other two guys were sort of school toughs and they had been in trouble before too.

We were asked who wanted to go first and after a moments pause I volunteered because I wanted to get it over with. The three of us got ten straps across our buttocks each.

Ok WHAM. The first one hurt like crazy. Wham the second one hit the same spot and it was numb. The man doing the whipping apparently thought I was takinng it too much in stride so he hit me lower and then above the place where the first two blows had landed.

Six more straps across my ** and it was finally over.

My face was red but I didn't cry.

It was actually more difficult watching the other two get beat like this. They thought they were tough and unlike me the tears flowed freely. In fact the man doing the whipping said he ought to whip them some more because I didn't cry and they did.

It isn't true that a beating like like means you are unable to sit down. You can but you constantly have to adjust your ** to acomodate the pain.

Looking at myself in the miror my ** was a mass of deep dark brusies, red spots and swollen and torn tissue.

Time went on and there were changes. After seven days the dark places were still there but in spots some strange green aras appeared. More redness and more swelling. Two weeks later the swelling started to go down but this seemed to spread the bruising. Week three the same thing except some of the areas begin to cear up and week four no swelling but the dark bruises had turned completely green. Week five the healing began in earnest and by week six the evidence of the beating were mostly gone but not completely. Week seven revealed no injuries but the skin was still sore but by week eight there effects of the beating had completely healed.

I never got in trouble again but the other two just didn't get it. They got more whippings.

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  • A -modified- version of this needs to be brought back. And anyone who can't tell the difference between a smack to the ** and a fist to the face needs to sit the ** down and shut the ** up about it, because it is beyond obvious by now that "gentle discipline" creates entitled sociopaths with no social skills.

    There is a world-- a universe-- of difference between a ** slap and a punch to the head. Thanks to my idiot father I got lots of both, so unlike those emotional invalids who tremble at the thought of disciplining a child, I know what I'm talking about!

  • I got the cane a few times at school. I actually don't have bad memories of it. Hurt like ** and I cried but it was over. I actually liked it. Like today when a kid gets caught it seems like a huge thing. Parents are called and they may have to have counselling and explain why. I was a kid. I don't know "why". I just would do whatever. Getting caught and getting the cane was like OK you've done wrong, been punished, now start again with a clean slate. A fresh start every time if that makes sense.

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