I stood completely naked and looked down the never-ending two rows of my fellow militia. The year was 2012 and we were in the midst of a concentrated guerilla war against the United European Federation of States, which had invaded the United States in 2008 in an attempt to reverse the American Revolution. I was accepted into the militia at the age of 15, since I was almost 16 and the militia was desperate for men. But now I had been caught sleeping on guard duty for the second time. It was not unusual for the younger militia to have problems such as this, but at the same time the problems were dealt with immediateley and severely. It was necessary to have the most disciplined of forces if the 50,000 man guerilla force was to expel the invaders from Europe. Punishment was accepted as a part of the war effort.
For the men, the standard punishment for serious offenses was to "Walk the Gauntlet." He would be forced to walk through an entire battalion of men lined up in two rows across from eachother. He would have his shirt removed, and as he walked through the rows the men would whip his bare back with an array of switches. This would result in about 250 lashes and was a serious punishment. However, for the "boys" under 18 the punishment was roughly the same but with a huge difference. The whipping would be given on the bare buttocks of the offender. And at the end of the gauntlet, stood the company corporal who would finish the punishment with an embarrassing over the knee spanking. Most of the men would take it a little easier on the boys walking the gauntlet, especially if they were still small in stature. Still, it was a painful and humilitating experience, as it was meant to be.
And so I began my walk. I was only about 5'7" and very slim. But my puffy, round boy buns made an ample target for the fresh cut switches. The first two lashes fell across my white butt cheeks and caused me to lurch forward. I had an intense urge to grab my cheeks but I knew that I would have to start over if I did. And so I continued my walk. The men were clearly having a great time at my expense. Slowly but surely I made my way through the gauntlet, recieving a lashing I would never forget, exposed to the entire company, bare. Half-way through I was in tears and my rump was on fire and welted. I could tell the men started to take it a little easier on me but still the lashes burned and stung.
At the end of the gauntlet I stood before the Corporal with my red and welted burning butt on display for the entire battalion to see. They were gathered around, and I was taken over his knee and spanked like an 8 year old. I was then teathered over and across the Rock of Shame, with my punished boy buns on display for one hour.