To have done wrong and to know you are to be punished, this in one thing.
To have done wrong and to be at school as normal, knowing you are to be punished that evening at home by your uncle, this is one thing.
To be fourteen years old, easily embarrassed, quite shy, at school as normal, knowing you are to be punished that evening, this is one thing.
To know your uncle's slow but inexorable progress from routine slipperings on the seat of your trousers to spanking on your bare behind, as you walk round school, knowing you are to be punished that evening, this is one thing.
To know the growing ingenuity with which your uncle crafts every kind of embarrassment for you when you are punished, this is one thing.
To feel your penis hardening and softening inside your underpants as you sit in lessons wondering what your uncle has in store for you that night, this is one thing.
To feel fear in the form of a cold churning in your stomach and bowels, to blush in antipation of what your uncle may do, this is one thing.
To know that you like and need your uncle and could never consider challenging his decisions, and that therefore you are trapped in the web of his imaginings, this is one thing.
To have the strangest sense that your uncle is attracted to your slender boy's body, your soft brown hair and eyes and every item of clothing that you put on and remove - but especially remove - this is one thing.
To be aware that your uncle had warned you that if you got into further trouble he intended to do something that would represent a quantum leap in embarrassment - and that tonight was the night - this is quite something else.
***
Stephen got home at about five.
There was a message on the kitchen worktop from his Uncle Frank: 'TONIGHT'S THE NIGHT OF YOUR UNDOING! GO TAKE A SHOWER, THEN PUT ON CLEAN VEST AND PANTS AND YOUR SCHOOL UNIFORM. EAT SOMETHING. WAIT FOR ME IN YOUR ROOM. I SHOULD BE BACK ABOUT SEVEN.'
Stephen felt even more queasy, but did as he was told.
Frank arrived nearer eight than seven, which did nothing for Stephen's nerves. "Right," he said, ruffling his nephew's hair affectionately, "We're going for a little ride. Come on."
This was already new. Stephen had only ever been punished at home. But perhaps the ride had nothing to do with the punishment.
They drove out into the countryside. It was mid-summer, still light and sunny. His uncle put on a cassette and seemed cheerful, though he said little. It was eerie. Stephen wanted to ask, but knew he couldn't.
Frank pulled into a clearing in woodland. "OK," he said, "your punishment begins here."
Stephen could feel his stomach going cold inside.
"Take off your shoes."
Stephen was becoming accustomed to some measure of striptease for his uncle, but never away from home. He wondered if this was the new embarrassment, to do it outdoors. Yes, that would be embarrassing. He had his shoes off. Without another word, his uncle drove back onto the road.
A mile or so further along the road, there was a tall man in black leather standing by the roadside. They stopped. "Wind down your window," Frank ordered.
"Hello Stephen," the man said, even though Stephen had never met him, "Give me your shoes."
Stephen was horrified. This man was part of it. Utterly shocked, he handed them over. The man climbed into the back seat.
They drove back to the clearing and stopped again. "Take off your tie and shirt," Frank ordered.
Feeling really scared now, Stephen wordlessly removed his school tie, unbuttoned his white shirt, pulled it out of his trousers and took it off.
"Keep it on your lap," Frank ordered.
Stephen felt exposed, even though the roads were quiet and he was wearing a white cotton vest.
They drove a few miles to a picnic area, with a public toilet. He was given back his shoes and told to put them back on. Then he was ordered to go into the toilet to relieve himself. He could make little sense of this, since he had no great need.
He went to the urinal. Someone emerged from a cubicle behind him and said, "Hello Stephen."
At this point, he had not taken out his penis to relieve himself. "Take off your shoes, then your trousers, then put your shoes back on. I'm here to take your trousers," the man said. He was a man in middle age, in a tracksuit. Big and strong. Not to be argued with. Feeling totally ridiculous, Stephen stripped off his trousers and put his black school shoes back on. He gave the trousers to the man. Now he was just in white Y-fronts and vest, black socks and shoes.
"I'll just check it's safe to go to the car," the man said, going to the door.
He returned rapidly. "Quick!" he whispered urgently, pushing Stephen into a cubicle and locking it behind them.
Two men, by the sound of it, walked in to take a piss. The man in the cubicle put his finger to his lips to indicate absolute silence and put his arm round Stephen, his hand on the seat of Stephen's underpants, holding him snug and close. Unaccountably, Stephen felt his dick hardening.
The men left and Stephen was led to the car. His dick was still semi-hard and embarrassingly obvious, sliding around in his underpants. At the car, his escort climbed into the back and they drove off.
Stephen was now being driven around in his vest and pants with two strange men. His apprehension grew.
They drew up at a bar at the end of a long dust track. Many cars were parked. It was falling dark. They drove round to the back, where no-one was.
They got out the car and walked to a metal outside staircase leading up to a first floor door. Stephen was ordered to hand over his shoes.
They climbed the stair and entered.
Inside, there was a dimly lit corridor. Stephen could hear voices in the distance. Soon, he found himself backstage and then on a small stage behind the drawn stage curtain, which was clearly part of a small auditorium. Now the voices were louder and assumed the dimensions of an audience. A terrible dread seized Stephen. "Uncle!" he whispered, "You can't..."
"Oh I can," Frank replied. "Just do what I say and you won't come to any harm."
The three men stripped to leather G-strings and put on masks and cloaks. Then they led Stephen to a brass bedstead containing a mattress covered by a white sheet and tilted upward at forty-five degrees. There were stirrups for his feet so he did not slide down or off once he was lying on it, on his back. His wrists were shackled above him to the head of the bed.
The curtains drew back, with Stephen on the bed, surrounded by the men. The room went quiet, except for a buzz of appreciation and a quick burst of applause, as Stephen was fully displayed under the spotlight.
Looking to his right, Stephen could see a large screen. At first, there were slides of him in school uniform, photos his uncle had taken. Then, he realised the picture was a close up of him, moving up and down his body, zooming in and out, but most of all focussing on his underpants.
Stephen could see, now he was accustomed to the stage lights, that the auditorium was a small, smokey bar, with suited men sitting at tables with drinks.
"This is Jason," his uncle said, changing his name. "He's 14 and he's been naughty. So now his body is ours for the night."
To demonstrate this, the three men began to stroke Stephen all over, paying especial attention to his dick and balls. Try as he might, he couldn't help going very hard, a fact displayed in glorious technicolor on the screen.
"Now who'd like to bid to come on stage to cut off Stephen's vest?" his uncle asked.
There was vigorous bidding. The winner came up and was given large scissors to snip of Stephen's vest. Then he was allowed to feel Stephen all over.
There was further bidding to cut off his Y-fronts. the man who did this had a cigar in his mouth. He revelled in feeling Stephen's hard five inch boner and playing with his balls, once he had the pants off. The curtain was drawn, to applause.
Backstage, they lifted Stephen to his feet, still clad incongrously in black school socks, and put a broad, studded leather collar round his neck.
They attached a lead to the collar and led him into the auditorium, from table to table, so the men could examine him at close quarters. Many of them were wanking themselves.
Stephen was led backstage, feeling completely humiliated but thoroughly turned on, to find a piece of apparatus centre stage. He had to lie over it and was shackled to it, in such a way that his legs were spread wide, his arse cheeks were flared, and his arse was projected up and outwards in the direction of the audience.
The curtains were drawn back and men were invited to bid to come up and spank his arse upto ten times. Soon his arse was going bright red and he was wincing, wriggling, or even yelling out.
They didn't take it too far. The event ended with men paying to come on stage and stroke his arse and arsehole, cumming onto his hot little buttocks.
*** ***