DOUBLE DOSE BY FW A drawing in Leather Strap inspired this story. The drawing is # 10 in the new series of drawings by other artists. Leather Strap is an excellent site, and has some great stuff. Enjoy. *********************************************************************
He was aware that what was about to happen would not be a pleasant experience, but he was curios as to what it would actually be like. He had heard the stories his friends had told, but somehow he wanted to know first hand.
He had just turned 16, and he was now of the age group, 16 through 18, that should he fall foul of the law he could be whipped by the local police on his bare buttocks. The 12 to 16 age group were strapped across their clothed buttocks. It was more to frighten than hurt, and as most received additional punishment when they got home, it served the purpose well.
Josh had received two such strappings in that period, and had indeed received a far more severe strapping from his Father within a day or two of his judicial punishment. His Father liked to make him sweat a little by waiting, Josh most certainly would have rather had the additional strokes the same day rather than lay on his bed waiting for the sound of his Father's footsteps stopping at his door. When they did, his Father would enter, and after the ritual lecture of being told he should know better. Would be told to remove his clothing below the waist.
While he was undressing his Father would arrange his pillows in the middle of the bed, and when Josh was ready he lay across the pillows his hips pushed upward, and thus raising his bottom for the strap. His father would make some adjustments to his son's body, spread his legs a little more, place the boys hands on the back the head. Make sure that Josh's shirt was well clear of the buttock area, then unbuckle the wide leather strap that encircled his waist.
Josh hated the ritual, but he hated more, the sound of the strap slapping out of the belt loops. A second or two later, the belt would snap as it was doubled in preparation for the beating it would deliver to the well-rounded buttocks of the boy. Then the whipping would begin, always six strokes, and always well laid on. After the sixth stroke his Father would place his belt across the boys hands with the admonishment, not to move. Thus Josh would be left in that position unable to rub his bottom, as that would have moved the belt, and resulted in more strokes. So he had to lay there with the sting of the strap burning unhindered through his glowing buttocks, until his father returned and told him to dress.
*********************************************************************** Now he was in trouble again, he never gave a thought to how fast he was going on the motorcycle he had got for his birthday. That is not until the police stopped him and gave him the ticket. At the hearing at the Traffic Court, the only thing that really stuck in his mind was the pronouncement, "Eight strokes, see the Clerk".
He had reported to the Clerk, and was given a paper directing him to report for his sentence at 9:00 a. m. two days hence. It also detailed the clothing requirements, sweatshirt, running shorts, and footwear, nothing else. On the way home from the hearing his Father pulled into the local harness shop. When he came out of the store he was carrying a package wrapped in brown paper. As he got back into the car he dropped the package into Josh's lap.
"You may want to take a look at that, you are going to become very close in a few days."
Josh unwrapped the package; it contained a riding crop, about 24 inches long, leather plaited around some type of semi rigid center core. Tapering to almost nothing the last three, or four inches of the plaiting forming a tassel at the end.
"Now you are 16. This is going to take the place of my belt, and the old six strokes are now twelve. I am not going to take your cycle from you, you will be well punished without that."
Josh was silent; he just sat there with the crop on his lap until they got home.
"Take that and hang it on your dresser, after this time perhaps the sight of it will be enough to keep you straight."
The next day, Josh was given an excuse for School for the following morning, and an excuse from PE for the rest of the week. Josh's Dad did not wish to have his son ridiculed in the showers, explaining the welts on his buttocks that the sentence was sure to leave.
The day of his punishment, Josh walked, as the building he was to report to was about half way to school. The total distance not much more than a half-mile. He was dressed as ordered, blue sweatshirt, white shorts, socks and tennis shoes. He carried a backpack with street clothes to wear after the punishment.
He pulled open the door, and entered the building walked to the counter. A young man perhaps 30 was sitting at a desk.
"Can I help you?"
Josh handed him the paperwork from the traffic court. The man looked at it.
"O. K. take a seat, I will only be a moment." He picked up a clipboard and checked off Josh's name. Then he made some entries in a book, stood and came over to where Josh was seated.
Telling Josh to stand he asked, "You wearing anything under those shorts?" "No Sir"
"Good, follow me" the man turned and walked down a corridor. Josh followed noticing the man wore fatigue trousers tucked into military type boots, a T- shirt, and some sort of uniform cap. Josh also noticed that the man was in good physical shape.
Stopping at a door the man opened it and motioned Josh inside. Glancing quickly around Josh could see that the room contained nothing but a few straight-backed chairs. There were no windows, and the room was very well lit.
The man took one of the chairs and placed it somewhat in the center of the room. Taking Josh by the arm he placed him directly behind the chair.
"Take your shorts completely off, place them on the chair, bend over the back of the chair grip the front legs as far down as you can. Stay exactly in that position until I tell you to move. Disobey me and I will use restraints, and we start all over again. Clear?"
"Yes Sir." Josh started to slide his shorts down past his buttocks, and as he started to bend to slip them off his feet. He glanced over his left shoulder; the man had his back to him and was reaching to take a small whip off a hook on the wall. About a foot of handle and perhaps a dozen thongs sprouting from one end. The thongs somewhat longer than the handle.
Josh finished taking off his shorts, and laid them on the seat in front of him. Bending over the chair he glanced back again. The man was now facing him, and shaking the whip to untangle it. Seeing Josh looking at him, "Eyes front, there is nothing for you to see back here, I will have to do this after every stroke." Turning quickly Josh gripped the legs of the chair, and stared down at his shorts on the seat.
Josh felt the man's hand on his lower back, a mans foot tapped his legs apart the width of the chair legs.
"Josh Wilson, by order of the Clerk of the Traffic Court, I am to administer eight strokes to your bare buttocks. You must remain in this position until you are told otherwise. Do you fully understand?"
"Yes Sir"
Josh felt the thongs of the instrument on his buttocks, as the man checked his stance. Josh screwed his eyes shut, relaxed the muscles in his buttocks. The thongs were lifted from his bottom; he tightened his grip on the chair.