Blaine's Return


by Tristan <Yobo30@hotmail.com>

It was several months after Blaine's first fearsome hiding from me, and I was beginning to think that I would never get to beat that pretty little bottom again. The school holidays had just started when, in the early-evening there was a light tap on my front door. It was Blaine. This time, the 12 year-old boy had brought his two younger brothers. Ryan, a rather nervous-looking Eleven-year-old, and Dean the boys eight year-old sibling. All three lads were clutching large manila envelopes in their hands.

Good evening boys," I greeted the three attractive children, what a pleasant surprise!"

Good evening sir," it was Blaine who answered me, we have come to ask for your help."

Of course boys," I was intrigued, What is it that I can do for you?"

Ryan and Dean looked up at Blaine, clearly waiting for him to take the lead. The 12 year-old handed me the envelope that he was carrying. I opened it, but before I could examine the contents, the child started to explain himself to me,

These are our school reports sir," he shuffled his feet nervously, and they are very poor. Our mother is very disappointed with us."

I slowly read through Blaine's report. He was right, it was pretty bad. The teacher's comments showed that the pre-teen had made very little effort with his work this term. Even more alarming, was the fact that the child's behaviour had also been poor.

You three had better come in his side, so that we can deal with this in private and properly."

The three small boys stepped into the house, and I closed the door firmly behind them as they trooped into my sitting room. I continued to read the 12 year-olds report quietly to myself. Blaine stood before me head bowed, hands clasped behind his back. After I had finished reading the report I placed it on my coffee table, and asked Ryan for his report. The little boy handed me the envelope, and without further comment, I withdrew the document and started to examine it. Unlike his older brother, Ryan had done quite well in his exams. It was clear to me that this little lad was rather a bright boy. But, the comments that his teacher had written expressed the view that he wasn't putting much effort into his school work. Also, Ryan's behaviour was considered very poor. Most alarmingly, the pre-teen had been caught, on several occasions, bullying younger boys! Certainly unacceptable behaviour.

Do you have anything to say Ryan?" I asked to the rather pretty little blond boy, there are comments in this report that are of grave concern-and certainly deserve some severe punishment!"

No sir," the boy shook his head. He understood that he was in big trouble.

I placed this report on top are of the older boys report, and held out my hand for the final report. Dean's. Reluctantly the eight year-old handed me the document. Like I had with his brothers, I took my time reading the marks and teachers comments. Dean's behaviour was not much better than his older siblings. And, although the boy was only eight, and did not write real exams, it was clear from the grades that he, too, had done little work in the classroom.

And you, Dean? Have you got an excuse for this report?"

No sir," whispered the little boy," I've been very naughty this term."

I can see that Dean. And I intend to address the problem."

All three pre-teen boys stood nervously before me in my sitting room, knowing that they were in some serious trouble. I turned to Blaine, and asked him,

I have dealt with you before my boy. Last time, you were very brave and honest and took a very sound thrashing. Do your little brothers know how I deal with naughty children? And what does your mum think about this?"

We have let our mum down badly," answered Blaine, "and we have agreed with each other that we deserve some serious punishment. Our mum does not believe in corporal punishment, and she has just given us a long lecture. That's as bad as it will get from her. But the three of us feel really bad about how poor school reports, and would like you to punish as properly."

"Yes sir," Dean piped up, Blaine has told us how you punished him that time, Ryan and I think that we deserve a good hiding as well."

I see," I looked at the blond boy, Ryan what do you think about this?"

I agree with Dean," the 11 year-old could not meet my eyes, we all deserve a darn good hiding from you sir!"

I let the boys stand there for a few minutes, while I thought about how I would deal with them. Blaine, short cropped dark brown hair, bright blue eyes, and sturdy muscular little body, had experienced both my strap and my cane on his bare bottom. I remembered how I had enjoyed thrashing his tender little cheeks. Ryan was a similarly good looking boy. His eyes were as blue as his brothers, but his hair was light, blond and slightly too long. He was nearly as tall as his big brother, their age gap being just over a year. Even although he was wearing fashionably baggy clothes, he gave off the impression of being just as strong and fit as Blaine. Dean's hair colour was the same as Blaine's, but just a little bit longer. He was nearly three years younger than Ryan, so was noticeably smaller than the other two. But no less sturdy. I was amused to note that Ryan appeared to be the most nervous of the three, and Dean the least nervous. Obviously, Blaine already knew how hard I whipped little boys' bottoms, so he had a reason to be a little bit scared.

I questioned each of the boys again. I wanted to be sure that they knew what they were in for by asking me to give them a hiding. I had already determined that I would do a good job, and thoroughly thrash their small bare bottoms. Ryan and Dean were as determined as their big brother had been when I had had the opportunity to beat him. It was obviously a family trait to take great pride in taking the consequences for their actions, and the boys were anxious to get what they deserved.

Very well," I finally conceded, "I will punish you. I want you to strip naked please. Make sure that you pile your clothing neatly on the floor out of the way."

Ryan and Dean were a little surprised by my command, but Blaine was not. Without a moment's hesitation, Blaine slipped off his T-shirt, shoes and socks. The younger two boys watched, open-mouthed.

Hurry up you two!" Blaine ordered his brothers, "You heard sir! He told you to undress, so take your clothing off!"

Then, without showing the slightest sign of self-consciousness, the 12 year-old slid his shorts down to his ankles and off, following them with his underpants. Knowing the procedure from his previous hiding, he took up his position in the centre of the room, legs 30 centimeters apart, hands on head, hairless privates on display. More slowly, the younger two boys started to strip. When they got to their underpants, they hesitated, but following Blaine's example, they slid their undies down to their ankles, piled them neatly with the rest of their clothing, and took up their positions next to their big brother.

I had left my strap and cane upstairs, so, leaving the three children as they were-with a firm warning not to move-I went upstairs to collect my implements of pre-teen punishment. I had to force myself not to rush, even although I was looking forward to beating these three little bare bottoms immensely. I had been dreaming of this moment since I had administered that last ferocious stroke to Blaine's naked hindquarters all that time ago. This would be fun.

When I returned to my sitting room, the three pre-teen boys were as I had left them. And as I entered the room, I noted that each pair of young buttocks clenched in fearful anticipation of what was coming. I decided to thrash the boys in age order, but I also decided to make their hidings more severe according to their ages. Blaine would be my first victim, as I wanted the other boys to get an idea of what was coming their way. I sent Ryan and Dean to different corners of the room, so that they would be out of the way but would still be able to witness Blaines thrashing. But I did not allow them to drop their hands and cover their modesty. I stepped over to Ryan and handed him the cane. He could hold that dreaded implement of school boy punishment while I used the leather on his older brother. But I also made it clear to the boys that the cane and each of their bare little bottoms would soon meet. Then I turned my attention to Blaine.

Bend over, the 12 year-old knew exactly what was expected of him, and quickly and correctly assumed the punishment position. He knew to keep his feet slightly wider apart than his shoulders, his knees straight, his fingers tightly gripping his ankles, his head down and his naked bottom well raised for thrashing. I was in no rush, and gently tapped the strap against the pre-teens bare bottom. Then I began the leathering. I made sure that the strap wrapped around Blaines cheeks with a loud snap, eliciting a yelp of pain from the pre-teen, and an instinctive jerking of his young body. The first lash had the desired effect on the other two boys. They jumped with fright at the sound of cowhide meeting boy hide, and both were suitably horrified by the violence of the lash. Again, I belted Blaine, and again the naked boy yelped as the heat across his poor bottom built up. In a slow, leisurely manner, I whipped the boy, making sure that I lit a good fire across his hind quarters. I knew from experience that a sore bottom was the only kind of language that a boy like Blaine appreciates. As Blaine was 12 years old, I administered 12 blistering strokes with the leather strap, turning the child's previously white backside crimson.

When I tell you, I began, you may stand-up. But you may not rub your bottom or even touch it. Instead, I want you to kneel on the armchair like you did when I gave you your final thrashing with the cane last time.

Yes sir, Blaine sobbed; still holding on to his ankles for all that he was worth. He had taken his punishment well, as I had known he would. And this time, he had had to impress his two younger brothers. And impressed they were. Just by looking at their faces, I could see that they were inspired by the way Blaine had stayed down for his hiding.

You may get up.

As I had instructed, Blaine did not put his hands anywhere near his aching bottom. He crossed over to one of my armchairs, knelt on the seat, bottom facing outwards, pressed his head down into the cushion, and waited for what he knew would be even worse whipping. Now it was time to deal with the younger boys.

Ryan, youre next, I commanded, and the very nervous blonde 11 year old stepped into the middle of the room. He handed me the cane, and I placed it on my desk. Then I gave the little boy his instructions, clearly, Ryan, you are a very bright little boy. Although your teacher thinks that you could do better, I do not know you well enough to make those kinds of judgments. However, your behaviour deserves sound punishment. And I cannot tolerate a bully. The only appropriate punishment for a bully is a very well thrashed bottom. Expect no mercy.

The naked, attractive little boy started to sob at my words, but made no effort to deny the allegations against him, or to persuade me to go easy on him. Like Blaine, Ryan was the kind of boy who knew when punishment was called for, and would be prepared to take it, no matter how severe.

Have you ever had a hiding, my boy?

No sir, this will be my first time.

Very well then, I tapped the strap in my hand, bend over-just like Blaine did.

Ryan bent, his pale, thin but muscular little body easily taking on the required position. Just for the sake of it, I put one hand gently on his neck and one hand on his bottom, encouraging him to keep his head down and his soft, white young bum raised for my attention. Then, I tapped his backside lightly with the strap, causing the submissive boy to shuffle his feet slightly.

Make sure that you keep absolutely still no matter how sore your bottom gets, Ryan. I will tell you when you may stand up.

Ryan's response to my instruction was only a little sniff, but I could sense the pre-teen redoubling his efforts to hang on to his ankles with all his might-even before the beating had started. With just as much effort as I had put into Blaines thrashing, I lashed the strap across Ryans upraised little tail. The boy yelped with the unexpected pain of his first ever lash on his poor bottom, and jumped up, both hands gripping his stinging behind.

Bend over at once! I was only going to give you 11 lashes with the strap, but for that little performance you're getting two extra.

Im sorry sir! Cried the boy, slowly bending over again in the required position, I just didn't expect it to be so painful!

Ignoring his sobs, I continued to slowly, mercilessly, thrash the bending, naked pre-teen boy. He hung on to his ankles as if his life depended on it. But, even although I was thrashing him slowly and methodically, I still had to slowdown and take long pauses to wait for the almost comical wiggling of his bottom to stop so that I could administer the lash accurately. By the time I had finished Ryan's 13 good, hard strokes, the little boy was a wailing wreck. I spent long minutes gently rubbing his fiery bottom while I waited for him to calm down, naturally not letting him move out of his bending over position.

Like Blaine, when I let you up, you may not so much as touch your bottom, my boy. I will lead you to a chair and bend you over in preparation for your caning. Do you understand, Ryan?

Ryan acknowledged my instruction, and I let him stand up. It was clear that the young lad was truly struggling to resist the urge to rub his poor bottom, but he had already discovered that my instructions must be followed, and the consequences for disobedience when getting a hiding were truly painful. I led the little boy to the other armchair in the room, and positioned him, legs spread and bottom up, in this same way that Blaine was waiting for the next installment of his thrashing. The armchairs where next to each other, so I had a very interesting view. Two round pre-teen bottoms, of similar size and shape. One belonging to a boy with a deep suntan, so that the little backside stood out-white and crimson from its punishment, against the child's legs and back. The other boy, bottom just as red, but with a much paler skin. Despite the age difference of about a year, the bottoms themselves when nearly identical. Now it was the turn of the naughty eight year-old, Dean. I turned to call him to the centre of the room, but he had already moved towards me, and was looking up at me, eyes fearful, but determined. This was one little boy who would take his punishment.

Have you ever had a hiding, Dean?

Yes sir, I have! I was rather surprised at the boy's answer. I knew that I had given Blaine his first hiding, and obviously I had just given Ryan his first ever hiding. I was intrigued to know where Dean had had his little bottom warmed up-after all; he was only eight years old.

You have? I asked the little lad, Who gave you a hiding and what for?

I was very cheeky to mummy, the small boy answered with an embarrassed grin, and I felt bad. I knew that Blaine had had a hiding from you, but I was too frightened to come to you and ask you to punish me. So I managed to get Blaine to give me a hiding. He gave me six of the best on my bare bottom with the wooden spoon. It was really sore, but I deserved it, and I'm glad Blaine gave it to me. I think my hiding from you is going to be much worse!

I walked over to Blaine, and without warning, strapped his upraised bare backside.

In the future, I spoke to the startled 12 year-old, you will do as you have done today, Blaine. When your brothers deserve hidings, you will bring them to me. I will decide on their punishment not you, do you understand?

Yes sir! I'm sorry sir! The three of us have now agreed that we will always come to you for our thrashings. I should not have spanked Dean without at least talking to you first.

I grunted my approval at the boy's words, but still brought my strap across his exposed bum cheeks five more times. When I was finished, Blaine thanked me for teaching him a salutary lesson in the limits of his authority. Then I turned my attention back to little Dean.

Right, young man, you've seen what to do. Bend over!

Without the slightest hesitation, Dean bent over, just as efficiently as Blaine had. He was really just a smaller version of the oldest boy, and even when I tapped my strap gently on his little bottom, he kept absolutely still. I whipped the strap just as hard across the eight year-olds bare bottom as I had across the 12 year-olds naked rear end. The sound of the leather strapping across the smaller cheeks of Dean's bum was sharper than it had been when I had thrashed the older two boys. But Dean's reaction was impressive. Naturally, there was a slight jerking as the pain of the first lash registered, and a sharp intake of breath. But otherwise, the youngest of the pre-teens took his belting even more bravely than Blaine had. Because he was only eight, I stopped strapping the boy after eight good hard lashes. And like his brothers, Dean stoically kept his head down and his bottom up even when I gently rubbed it, before giving the little boy his next set of instructions. As I only had two suitable armchairs in the room, I made Dean return to the corner, hands back on his head, but this time facing the wall. Then I put my strap back on the table, and retrieved my cane. It was now time to start the hidings in earnest. I admired the two bare bottoms, tightly bent on their respective armchairs, while I flexed my cane and swished it through the air. Even although both of the pre-teens were tightly bent, they instinctively tried to clench their vulnerable feeling bum cheeks at the sound of the fearsome stick hissing through the air. Blaine had first hand experience on just how much the cane would hurt his bare bottom, but it was amusing to note that Ryan's reaction to the fearsome sound of the cane was the same as his big brother, even although his bottom had, up till now, been spared the excruciating pain of a true caning. This just went to prove how boys instinctively know and fear the pain of the cane!

As was my practice last time, I gently traced the very tip of the cane across Blaines naked bottom cheeks-just below halfway. This sensation of the stick lining up across the most sensitive part of his behind must have been very scary for the 12 year-old, he knew what was coming. But he also knew that I expected him to keep still-and he did. I pulled the stick back, then, with my best technique, putting the power of my body behind my swing, I lashed the cane firmly across Blaines tender bottom. The pre-teen squealed with the sudden pain, and his body plunged in the chair. Although he had had his bare backside soundly thrashed by me in the past, it is the beauty of corporal punishment that meant that the agony of the stick lashing across his exposed fleshy cheeks was no less painful than it had been for his very first hiding at my hands. The only difference was that the little boy had learnt to take his punishment. Without hesitation, Blaine raised his bottom up again for the next stroke. Again, I whipped the hind quarters of the naked boy, enjoying the obvious expressions of pain-his yelping and the instinctive jerking of his body.

For the third time, I caned Blaine. Then I paused, and, although Blaine was sobbing pitifully, I noted that there was muffled crying coming from the chair in which Ryan was bent. The 11 year-old was listening to his big brother's thrashing in a full knowledge that his bare bottom would be my canes next target. I turned to look at Dean. The eight year-old was as I had put him, but his bottom cheeks were tightly clenched, and he looked as if he was ready to climb into the wall! There's nothing like the sound effects of a good, bare bottom hiding with a cane, especially when the listener knows that his bare bottom is next! I turned my attention back to Blaine. He had recovered his composure, and his small, 12 year-old bottom was back up, ready for some more thrashing. I caned his submissively upraised cheeks, getting the same reaction as I had before, and a soft scream from the punished child. There were now four deep scarlet welts across his pre-teen bottom. For the 5th time, I whipped my cane across Blaines bottom. Of course, I kept the stroke nice and low, where it will really hurt. But I knew that Blaine could take it-he had impressed me with his fortitude before, and I was not disappointed this time. This 6th lash snapped across his exposed backside like a gunshot, and the pre-teen howled, but kept his position, head down, bottom up. I would have expected no less from the brave young lad.

I rubbed Blaines bottom gently for him, then, to his surprise, I allowed him to get up and grasp his own blazing backside. After I had let him rub for a minute or so, I led him into a corner, made him put his hands on his head, and approached Dean. Taking the eight year-old by the upper arm, I marched him to the chair in which Blaine had been thrashed, and made him assume the same position that had been assumed earlier by his older brother. The difference between Ryan's and Dean's naked bottoms was more marked-Dean's being that much smaller and less meatier than the 11 year-olds. It was time to give Ryan at taste of the cane. Drawing out the procedure, I slowly drew the tip of the cane across Ryan's little bottom cheeks, low-down, enjoying the obvious nervous shuffling of the pre-teen boy.

"Make sure that you keep still, Ryan," I reminded the little boy, "you already know what happens to boys who move during a hiding from me!"

Yes, sir!"

With the same, skilful technique that I had used to cane Blaine, I whipped the stick firmly across Ryan's bottom. As expected, the 11 year-old found his first ever lash with the cane excruciating. But he managed to keep still, that is, as still as could be expected after the natural plunge of his body and a howl of agony. I stepped back, admiring how the red stripe stood out across his pale cheeks. But I wasn't there it just to enjoy the scenery, I was determined to give Ryan a darn good thrashing. So I caned the tightly bent boy again, whipping the stroke directly below the first welt. After a long pause, I gave the pre-teen his third lash, enjoying the child's wailing and writhing as the pain of the cane build up across his naked rear end. He was taking it surprisingly well. Drawing out the process, I continued to whip the child's bare bottom, and Ryan, to his credit, took all six agonising strokes far better than I had expected.

Well done, my boy," I complimented the crying pre-teen, as I gently rubbed his well thrashed little bottom, "you are proving to be a brave little man, and you are taking your punishment."

I allowed the boy to get up, and as soon as he was on his feet, he grasped his own bottom in both hands, squeezing and rubbing his cheeks vigorously. Then I made him replace Blaine at the wall, and led the 12 year-old to the chair in which Ryan had been bending. He had to assume the punishment position in the chair, so that I had the oldest and the youngest boys, tightly bent, bottoms up, awaiting further whipping. Then I turned my attention to the small, already reddened bottom of Dean.

Now it's your turn, my boy," I said to Dean, while enjoying this sensation of rubbing his considerably smaller bottom. Although Blaine and Ryan had lovely little bums, the best word to describe Dean's bottom would be cute. I easily covered both cheeks with one hand. It would be interesting to see how this young boy handled the pain of a thrashing with the cane.

Sir?" the eight year-old was to surprise me, Just because I'm the youngest, please don't be any gentler with me. I can take the punishment that Blaine and Ryan can take."

Dont worry, my boy," I assured the child, "you will certainly get your just rewards!"

Even when I traced the tip of the cane across the small boys little cheeks, he kept dead still, even raising his bottom further to prove to me that he could take his hiding. Although I never would have told him, I did slightly moderate the strength of the strokes, but I still made sure they did bite painfully into his lower bottom. Like his brothers, Dean's whole body plunged into the chair with the agony of the lash, but the any sound effect from the tiny pre-teen was a sharp intake of breath. I let him absorb the pain, then caned his naked little bum again. I was most impressed with the way that the little second grade boy was taking his hiding. I doubted if many other eight year-old boys would be able to stay down for six firm lashes with the cane like Dean was. But even this brave little boy couldn't stop the tears, and he sobbed, wailed, and squirmed through his last three lashes. When I rubbed his bottom, I was gentler than I had been with the two older pre-teens. The surface area of the eight year-old bottom was warm-almost hot to touch, and I was impressed with the way he had taken his thrashing.

Eventually, I let Dean get up, rub his bottom, and replaced him in the corner, putting the naked figure of Ryan back on the chair. Now each of the boys had well caned bottoms.

Now for the last phase of your punishments," I explained, "you will each receive some more cane lashes, in accordance with your ages."

I tapped the tip of my cane on the batted little cheeks of Blaines bottom, and, even although the pre-teen would take the rest of his hiding, he couldn't help himself, and squirmed nervously at the ominous prelude to more thrashing. But I was determined to really whip his naked 12 year-old backside. I swung the stick firmly across my little target, my cane biting deeply into Blaines already well bruised bum. The boy sobbed, but I ignored his misery, simply caning his exposed hind quarters again. After a long pause, during which I tenderly massaged the lads aching little tail, I allowed him up, let him have a quick rub, then made him stand in the corner, hands on head, and made Dean assume the humiliating and submissive position in the chair-his battered little bottom well raised for another dose of my cane.

Now it was Ryan's bottom that was to receive some more attention from my junior cane. I tapped the implement of school boy hidings on the tender backside of the 11 year-old child. He sobbed, especially now that he knew just how painful thrashings with the cane are. I whipped Ryan's pale, welted rear end just as hard as I had caned his big brother. The blonde boy also received three vigorous lashes, causing him to cry out in agony, and squirm between each stroke, as the stick bit into his soft flesh. As I had with Blaine, I gently rubbed and squeezed the little boys bottom, while I waited for him to calm down. Then I let him up, have a quick rub, and put him next to Blaine, hands on head, his nose touching the wall. Now I only had Dean left bending in a chair.

As I had with his two older brothers, I gently traced the cane across Dean's already strapped and caned bum. Still, the youngest boy kept his backside raised, bravely bracing himself for some more pain. I flicked my cane firmly across his little pre-teen bottom, eliciting a yelp from the eight year-old, noting that, despite his resolve, he battled to keep still. I waited for the squirming and writhing of his naked little body to stop, and for him to raise his throbbing tale once again. As soon as he was still, I lashed that trembling small behind firmly, getting an even more pronounced reaction from the young lad. But, as soon as I considered him ready, I administered the third hard lash, my cane cracking across tender boy flesh. Of course I gave his sore bottom a good massage just as I had with Blaine and Ryan's bottoms.

When I put the youngest brother next to his siblings, it was evident that the eight year old boy had been soundly punished. At last, he was acting like the youngest should; he had been whipped into complete submission. What a sight the three naked boys were. Two small bottoms, well beaten, crimson with the evidence of good canings, the nine welts already starting to bruise along their edges. One somewhat smaller bottom, just as well thrashed, but of course looking worse as the hiding had been concentrated on a smaller area. I let the pre-teens stand like that, sobbing quietly, for about 10 minutes. None of the boys knew what was next-but I had promised age related thrashings, so Blaine and Ryan at least knew that they had some more coming.

Step in to the middle of the room, please Blaine," I ordered. Nervously, still crying, and hands still on his head, Blaine walked over to me. I said nothing for a few moments, just flexing my cane menacingly in my hands, "you are the oldest, young man, so you will, of course, get the most severe hiding."

Yes sir," Blaine looked up at me, cheeks wet with his tears, blue eyes still bright, "I certainly deserve a very good thrashing. I trust you sir, to give me the punishment that I deserve!"

Bend over again in the caning position, please."

Please sir," asked Blaine, "may I get the rest of my hiding like you gave me my first hidings-bending over and grabbing my ankles? And please could my brothers watch. I want them to see me taking my whipping!"

Very well, young man. You remember the procedure. Bend over." I turned Ryan and Dean, "you two turn around and watch how Blaine takes a thrashing."

Blaine had bent over perfectly, keeping his legs slightly further apart than his shoulders, knees straight, and naked, well beaten bottom well up. The traditional schoolboy position for corporal punishment. Ryan and Dean stood behind and well out of the way, they would have a good view of the cane landing across Blaines young backside. I didn't waste too much time, beginning the pre-teens thrashing, making sure that my cane scorched his neat, exposed bottom. The younger boys nervously witnessed Blaine receiving the next installment of his hiding. I gave him four hefty strokes, then allowed the sobbing pre-teen to stand up. He slowly rose up, gripping his injured cheeks with both hands, copious tears running down his face.

This hiding is almost as bad as the worst hiding that you have given me sir!" the 12 year old gasped.

Dont think I'm finished yet, Blaine. You are the eldest; expect my cane to do some more work on your bottom."

Yes sir," the naked little boy just nodded his head, accepting his punishment.

I pointed my finger at Ryan, and slowly the trembling, crying child walked to the centre of the room. His knees were shaking as I spoke to him. He was under no illusions. He knew how much the cane would hurt his already throbbing bottom.

You may also choose your position, Ryan," I announced.

Please may I bend over in the chair, sir?" asked Ryan, "I don't think I can take the cane just touching my toes!"

I led the 11 year old to the chair, but he did not need any further instruction. As he had done already twice, he bent his pale, naked little body in the correct position for thrashing. The welts from the earlier whipping stood out clearly against his white flesh. I aligned my cane up on his small up raised bottom, then swung the stick in to the first stroke, cracking the weapon against my target, ensuring a hefty follow-through. Ryan's body plunged with the pain of the lash, and the boy howled. I waited, for him to settle, then whipped the cane down again. This time Ryan lifted the top half of his body and put his hands behind him to sooth and protect his bottom.

Bend over immediately!" I barked at the writhing lad. And slowly Ryan returned to the required position. I waited for a few moments, then lashed his bare, bruised bottom again. Again, the wailing boy couldn't stay in his punishment position, and grasped his batted young bottom with both hands. This time I said nothing, and slowly Ryan bent over again, reluctantly lifting his backside to me. I let him wait for ages, letting the tension and anticipation grow while I gently tapped his bruised cheeks with the tip of the whipping implement. I made sure that the last lash was the hardest, allowing the cane to bury itself deep into the soft flesh of the pre-teens lower buttocks. Then I allowed him to get up and rub his fiery bottom.

Please no more sir! My bottom is in agony and I have learnt my lesson!" wailed the 11 year-old. I sent him to stand, still crying, with his brothers. All three had been soundly thrashed, but I was not completely finished yet.

"Blaine, you are the oldest, so you will get a few extra lashes." Blaine, head down, hands still holding his sore cheeks, started to move towards me, but Dean stepped in front of his big brother, and, his little hands also protecting his small backside protested,

But sir! It's not fair that Blaine and Ryan should get those extra strokes. I am a big boy and I can also take them."

"I don't doubt that you are a big boy, Dean, but I promised more severe hidings in age rank, sir that is what I am doing. Now step out of my way." Reluctantly, the eight year old boy went back to stand next to Ryan, and Blaine came to stand in front of me.

"Bend over," was my order but before I had finished saying it Blaine was already grabbing his ankles, bottom up, ready for thrashing.

I whipped the submissive child mercilessly, my cane found those few areas on the lower half of his bottom that were still white and untouched from the earlier thrashings. Even Blaine, with his proven toughness and his desire to show off in front of his brothers battled to maintain his position as the agony of his hiding seemed to eat through to his very soul. Blaine felt it but the other two could be in no doubt. I gave the 12 year-old pre-teen boy these next four stripes harder than any of the previous strokes to any of the three boys bare bottoms. I felt that because Blaine, the oldest, and the instigator of this punishment, his brothers needed to see him take a really severe thrashing. Not only would it teach Blaine a lesson, but it would greatly enhance the respect that Ryan and Dean had for him.

When I had given Blaine what amounted to the hardest four strokes with the cane that I had ever administered to his little bare bottom, I let him up, and instructed all three boys to get dressed. Clearly, they were relieved that their punishment was over. But I noted how carefully they put on their underpants and then their shorts. When they were all dressed, led by Blaine, each boy shook my hand and thanked me for his hiding. Then Blaine, to my surprise, gave me a big hug.

Thank you Rob, you are the best! I feel much better about my self now that I have had a good hiding, and I will do my best at school next term."

The other two boys are also expressed their feelings about me sorting them out, and Dean especially looked relieved that he had been dealt with, and now could go back to school with a clean slate. They left the house, riding their bicycles off gingerly, making sure that their well whipped bottoms did not touch their bicycle seats.

It was about two hours later when there was a timid tap at my door. I was most surprised to find Ryan standing on my doorstep. I invited the little blond boy in, and let him explain himself.

"I am very ashamed that I couldn't take my last four lashes bravely today, sir," the little chap explained, "I certainly deserved them, and I couldn't even take my punishment!"

Well Ryan," I conceded, "normally you would have been given extra lashes for moving out of position. But I felt that since it was your first ever hiding I would let you off."

But Blaine stood up, just a little bit, when he got caned by you-he told me the story, and you gave him an extra lash!"

Yes, but it was not Blaines first hiding. He had already had two previous thrashings from me."

"I know that, but it was his first bare bottom caning. And when he took those last four lashes that you gave him today so well, I realized what a wimp I was. There I was performing and making a fool of myself in front of you, while even Dean was prepared to take more punishment."

Thats all very well Ryan," I replied, "but what do you want me to do about it?"

The little 11 year old boy shuffled his feet and looked down nervously, Please would you give me another hiding, sir. As hard as you caned Blaine, but please give me six of the best for my poor behaviour during my punishment, not just four."

Are you sure about this, my boy?" so this lad fit into the same mould as Blaine. He knew how to take his punishment. I was impressed.

Yes, sir, I am sure."

I had already put the cane back upstairs, so I instructed Ryan to wait for me, while I went to fetch it. I had intended just to make the boy lower his shorts and underpants, but when I returned flexing the cane, Ryan was already stark naked. He was standing, in the middle of the room, hands on his head, waiting for me to beat him. I walked slowly around the boy, swishing the cane through the air, and taking the time to admire his sinewy young hairless body. The evidence of the earlier thrashings stood out clearly, dark red bruising along cane welts contrasting with his white, rounded tail. I started to lead the pre-teen to the armchair in which he had previously received his thrashing, but he stopped me.

Please sir, I would like to bend over like Blaine did. If he can manage, I am sure that I can too."

Very well. Bend over!"

The little boy needed no further instructions. He bent over perfectly, just as his big brother had. Ryan was only slightly smaller than Blaine, but his much paler skin meant that he looked completely different in this position. But no less submissive. I tapped the cane menacingly on his up raised, and what have felt very tender cheeks. However Ryan kept absolutely still, determined to take the pain of his hiding as bravely as he could. He had asked to be thrashed severely, and I did not let the 11 year old down. I blasted the cane across his bottom, again ensuring that I only whipped previously uncaned skin. Although Ryan had asked to be lashed as hard as Blaine had been, I moderated the first two strokes slightly. But, to my surprise, despite sobbing and whimpering, Ryan held on to his ankles, kept his poor little backside up, and kept remarkably still. So for his last four, I really took my time and absolutely laid into the child's naked rear end. Perhaps even harder than I had caned his big brother. The cane made a loud, very satisfying crack with each vigorous stroke, and by the time the hiding was over, I was certain that Ryan had been properly punished. Before he dressed, the naked little boy gave me an even bigger hug than Blaine had, assuring me that he would be a good boy at school, but promising me that if he needed it, he would be back for another session with my cane and strap. Despite the agony of his hiding, Ryan had seen and understood the efficacy of a sore bottom, and was willing to take more if ever it was necessary.


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