I have to say I felt a bit offended, being shackled to the whipping-bench for my thrashing with the strap. I thought I'd proved to uncle Paul that I could hold my position for a severe beating, and it didn't seem possible the strap could hurt much more than grandad's paddle. But it did, and by the time I'd had six and was howling for mercy and straining at my bonds in excruciating pain, I was glad I was fettered. I doubt I could have taken the full twelve standing free.
When at last it was over Uncle Paul said he was sorry he'd had to be so hard on me, but it was the only way to be sure I'd learn my lesson. "The pain from the paddle fades quickly, but you'll get a painful reminder of that strapping every time you sit down for the next week." And he was right. He said he was going to leanve me over the bench for a while, let my butt cool off a bit , and he and Mike, who'd been gleefully watching the proceedings, departed.
About ten minutes later, Mike returned and shut the door behind him. He said "It's no good, kid, seeing you bending there naked with your legs apart, I can't resist the temptation!" and pulled down his shorts. Luckily, Uncle Paul arrived in the nick of time and saved my virginity. He was furious with Mike, who cowered and said he was sorry. As he unfastened my bonds, Uncle Paul told him in no uncertain terms that I was under his protection, and here for discipline and nothing else.
As I rose a little unsteadily to my feet, he took Mike by the scruff of his neck and hauled him over the bench, and made me shackle his hands and feet. Now it was my turn to be gleeful, as uncle Paul lashed his backside with the strap as he'd lashed mine. After about 12 whacks he handed the strap to me and said "Here Davy, I reckon you owe him a few!" I stood back, and whacked the strap with all my might across Mikes firm little butt, already a mass of crimson welts, and I have to say I really enjoyed hearing him howl. I proceeded to administer whack after whack, and soon I had Mike begging for my mercy. Eventually Uncle Paul had to order me to stop, and we left Mike sobbing over the whipping bench, and went off to the house for a meal. Needless to say, I ate mine standing up.
After a couple of hours, Mike was released and sent packing, and I was sent to bed, mercifully without a apanking. Next morning uncle Paul inspected my strap welts, and said the other two spankings I was due could wait till next time.
I opened the punishment book and wrote "received with thanks, Davy" against the four paddlings and one strapping I had received, and left for home. I pushed my bike all the way, rather than submit my butt to the rigors of that hard leather saddle. In my saddle bag was grandad's paddle, to be used as a dick harness every night when I went to bed.
My mother was amazed at the improvement in my behaviour as a result of my weekend with uncle Paul. It was the first of many visits, though I seldom had more than one or two entries in the punishment book. and never again did I need grandad's dreaded punishment strap. My mother couldn't believe how much my behaviour