A few days later after spending some disconsolate hours in town, convinced that I was out of luck on military hazing, I hailed an autorickshaw, just on an off chance and headed toward the Pioneer Military Training grounds.
It was around 3 o clock in the afternoon, and I had little hope of seeing anything because drill would have long been over. Sure enough, when I got there, it looked as though the drill field was deserted. I had almost turned to go when through the corner of my eye, I thought I saw the flash of delicate leg stuck up in the air.
I rushed back to the fence and then saw what I had missed. A whole squad of jawans was slowly somersaulting their way across the parade ground (in India it is called doing pultis). The jawans were not in their drill uniform; they were in the white vests and green short pants they wore while doing fatigues. Evidently this squad had screwed up somehow in sweeping the parade ground (or jadooing the parade ground, as they would say in India), and their NCO was punishing them by making them do pultis across the entire length of the enormous parade ground.
Unfortunately, I was too far away to see the cute little baby black and brown faces flushed with the blood rushing to their heads. But I do know that even black and brown boys change color in the most erotic way when blood rushes to their skin.
Following the squad was the NCO. Unlike in the US where it seems that NCOs stay as much in shape as their soldiers, in India the NCOs paunchy, middle aged pervs who get to torture their pretty delicate boyish charges. The NCO was carrying his ubiquitous swagger stick, and any time one of the boys flagged, or sometimes just at random to encourage them to move faster he would bring the stick down with an audible crack as wood met soft cotton arse.
It was very erotic watching those sweet black and brown legs rising in the air, ass cleft and crotch cleft much in evidence. When the NCO was distracted punishing one boy, the others would hurriedly try to scurry across some of the parade ground, but the moment his head turned, they would hastily resume doing pultis.
The NCO suddenly called a halt, and he called the whole squad around them. They were made to lie supine on the parade ground. I could no longer see them, only the fat NCO in their midst. To make sure that they were lying as low as possible, grovelling in the dirt in fact, the NCO smartly brought his swagger stick down on some soldiers who were presumably slightly raised from the filthy parade ground. I couldn's see them or their reaction, but my _c_o_c_k_ tented up as I heard the distinct gun like cracks.
After lecturing them some time, the NCO allowed them to get up, and some boys covertly shook hot, burning sand out of their vests and shorts. I was more than willing to offer my services personally to lap up any irritating grains that had gone up those _s_e_x_y shorts, but alas no one required my services.
I went home slightly mollified. It seems that hot/sadistic drill was out, but at least I had witnessed some _s_e_x_y punishment. But I was wrong; a hotter scene remained for my viewing pleasure on that moderately perverse passage to India in July.