Aaron loved Saturdays. It was the day of the week in which the county folks would come into the city for market day. There were always careless folks who would leave their purses unguarded for a minute, and give him the opportunity to snitch one. Today was cold, and that caused him some concern, as the rich folks would tend to wear cloaks, and keep their purses inside, out of sight. He studied several possible victims, and finally decided upon an older lady, who carried her purse on her arm. Walking up to her, he waited until her head was turned, and skillfully plucked her purse from her. As he turned to run, he was grabbed from behind, and turned to face one of the high sheriff's deputies, who had witnessed the whole thing. His arms were tied behind him, and the sheriff led him and the lady to the courthouse, where testimony was given to a judge, and he was found guilty of petty theft all within 15 minutes!

The judge asked his age, and he told him that he was 11. The judge advised him that the punishment for petty theft for anyone over 18 was hanging, for anyone under 10 was a thrashing right there in the courtroom, and for anyone else, it was a public birching. He then instructed the court baliff to "birch him to the blood". He was shoved through a small door into an enclosed courtyard. As they entered, a bell started ringing, and people quickly gathered in front of a raised platform which held some sort of strange table like thing. He was forced up the stairs, and found himself facing the crowd, whose size swelled as he stared at them. The baliff read his sentence, and reached around him and untied the rope that held up his pants. With a swift motion, he pulled them down, exposing Aaron to everyone's view. The cold wind caused his balls to snap up in his bag, and much to his dismay, his hairless little penis stood out like a flagpole, no matter how much he willed it down. He was mortified, as the crowd buzzed, and he heard comments about his "little pink acorn", and "all you can see above his balls is a little pink slit", and "he must be looking forward to his birching, look at his little thing stand up". He felt tears in his eyes as he was shoved to the table like thing. It was wooden, raised higher at the end he was standing near, and was lower at the front. He saw many leather straps fastened to both sides of the thing. He stepped out of his trousers, and was roughy forced to separate his legs. His ankles were fastened to the sides of the table (which he learned later was called a "birching pony"), causing him to feel like they were trying to pull him apart. He was bent over, and the crown got to see his little butt for the first time. He heard them say things about his butt, like "it is built for the birch" and "look how firm and taught it is", and even "his hole, bag, and penis are all there, begging for the birch". Aaron realized from this last comment that he was totally exposed, and even felt the cold wind blowing over his boyhole as he was expertly strapped down by his wrists, small of his back, and his thighs. Oh, he was well and truly trussed up.

He sensed the baliff behind him, and then felt his hands roughly pull his butt cheeks apart. Soon he felt a hard object being shoved far up into his butt hole. In seconds, he felt the object turn to fire as he wildly opened his butt in a vain attempt to dislodge it. The baliff whispered in his ear that that was a "ginger suppository" which would open him up for the kiss of the birch. He sensed a hush come over the crowd, as he lay there, totally exposed. Suddenly he heard, and then felt the birch rod visit his butt. He didn't feel much pain, and was surprised, as the second stroke and then the third and fourth fell in the same place, across the middle of his butt. Then, the pain started to build, and build, as the rod visited every part of his butt, as the baliff first whipped him while standing on his left side, then while standing on his right. The birch tips would cover one cheek, then move to cover that same cheek, and the other cheek, and finally be pulled up to hit into the deep recess of his crack. Up his butt the strokes fell, and then down, until they were falling directly into his boyhole, and finally onto his bag and even his penis, which was now shoved down by the bench, and stood defenseless to the assault.

Aaron went from sharp gasps, to cries, to moans, to deep sobs as the birch visited his ravaged bottom over and over, only to stop as the baliff renewed worn out rods. His butt changed colors from pink to red, to firey red. The birch rods caused raised spots, which when hit again, caused small cuts which eventually bled. When the punishment was finally over, blood was flowing down his legs from both cheeks, and he felt like his bag and boyhole had been cut by one hundred knives!

He hung limply over the pony, as the crowd was invited up onto the dias to inspect first hand and closey the state of his bottom. Parents brought their children up to study his butt, and warn their children of what might happen to them if they did anything "bad" like this boy. Some people actually ran their hands over his butt. A few felt his boyhood, and some even shoved rude fingers into his hole. He could do nothing to stop this. He realized that the crowd was tipping the baliff for a job well done. As the crowd dimished, he felt a finger trace his bottom cleft down to his hole, and eagerly force its way inside, where it turned and twisted. Soon, its' owner bent to his ear, and said that he would be waiting at the Crown and Thistle pub should Aaron like to make some real money.

Slowly, the baliff undid his restraints. He roughly pulled his butt cheeks apart, slapping him several times to get him to open up, then shoved his fingers up him and quickly pulled the hard suppository out. Seconds later, he shoved both of Aarons face cheeks in, and shoved the evil thing into his mouth, telling him to keep it there, and not spit it out until he was out of the courtyard, or he would put him back over the pony, and revisit his butt with some fresh birch rods. Aaron laid over the pony until he could hear no one. In anguish, he stood up, hands tentatively feeling the bumps on his butt cheeks. He found his trousers, and gently slid them on, crying out as they made contact with his ravaged flesh. Slowly he left the dias, stumbled to the couryard door, and walked outside, now ignored by the crowds of shoppers. He quickly spit out the foul smelling suppository, spit several times, and, wiping tears from his eyes, limped off in the direction of the Thorn and Thistle!