I stand up, put the slipper on the bed and cup the little boys buttocks in my hands, a warm smooth bottom-cheek fitting snugly in each palm. I gently massage the flesh I am about to thrash, hands moving slowly from the small of the 11-year-olds back to the tops of his thighs, my thumbs trickling into the buttock cleft. As I do this I explain what I intend to do the boy. Im going to give you six with the slipper now. You will then have your bath as normal and report to me downstairs in your dressing gown by 7.30 at the latest. Then I will give you what at my school I call a sound spanking – that means I will put you across my knee and spank your bare bottom until I feel you have been punished enough. Is that clear?
Yes, Sir. (Its the first time he has called me Sir.)
I lay the sole of the slipper on his nearer buttock, almost in the centre. He twitches, and I see his head jerk up, eyes closed and teeth gritted. I suspect the boy is no stranger to the world of sore bottoms, and make a note to gently probe his home and school beatings later. I bring the slipper down hard onto the delicate skin, and ignore the yelp of pain this produces. In no hurry, I lay the slipper lower down the buttock and bring it down low and hard. Theres a howl from Justin, and I warn him to control himself or face further punishment. He does his best to confine himself to little gasps of protest as I thrash the other buttock in a similarly methodical manner.
You may be get up and give your bottom a rub if you wish. He does wish! He pulls himself gracefully up, and kneels on the edge of the bed. Seeing the play of muscle under skin as he brings himself to the vertical I suspect the youngster could be a fine gymnast. I watch his hands attempt to soothe his bottom for a minute.
Down you go – only two more. The boy presents his backside for punishment again. I take a really heavy swing at mid-buttock level, making the sole catch both sides of the slim bottom. Finally I take a long hard swing at the lower part of Justins bottom. Rather than pull himself up onto the bed, he tumbles to the floor, clutching his burning rear.
I suggest you lie on your tummy for a while. Remember: 7.30 at the latest.
Leaving the boys room I change into my kit and indulge my evening pleasures: a run, a shower and a gin and tonic on the terrace. Its a little after 7pm when a rather forlorn figure with wet hair appears – sensibly he must have decided to get his sound spanking over. The house is very isolated, and I decide that an al fresco spanking might be invigorating.
Come here, Justin. I widen my legs into a V and guide him into its centre. I undo the cord of his dressing gown and slip off the garment. The child stands nude before me as I deliver a lecture, a hand on each of his hips for emphasis.
Enough chinwag, I finally conclude. I hitch up the leg of my short and guide the little fellow over my knee. This is going to be a skin-on-skin spanking: the skin of the boys midriff moulded round the skin of my leg, the skin of my right hand laying into the still sore skin of his little bottom.
Move your body forward a bit – your bottoms not quite where I want it. Thats better! Now, legs wide apart. What could be pleasanter on a summers evening that to have a warm, wriggly 11-year-old across your knee, bare bottom perfectly positioned for as much spanking as you deem fit! I run my hands over the areas I am about to punish, asking Justin how his bottom feels.
Its sore already, is the piteous reply. I refrain from the obvious comment about itll be sorer still, and instead start spanking. First I work on the central buttock areas, already heavily slippered and tender. A sound spanking is quite different from a caning in its effects as any boy at my school will tell you: theres nothing to compare with the sickening pain of that first well-placed impact of rattan on bare skin, but this punishment builds up slowly and relentlessly - no area of bottom-skin will be untouched. I start to work skillfully and accurately on the areas that spreading the boys legs managed to expose, the lowest part of the buttocks and the area between the buttocks. Only the human hand can work these areas without danger of hitting the boys scrotum, which is of course also exposed.
I spank away with frequent medium-strength (and it has to be said quite noisy) blows, changing the region I attack from time to time. The boy takes it well – Im certain now that he has been thrashed often. Theres only one protest of Please, Mr Benson, Ive had enough, which I simply ignore.
Fortunately theres a pleasant breeze to cool me down, for its quite an energetic business. At last I decide to finish off with half a dozen blows at the top of the thigh region, where suntanned limbs merge into untanned (by the sun, anyway!) bottom.
You may give yourself a rub, now. Its over. The boys hands fly to his rear, massaging softly, trying to draw out the pain. I let him comfort himself for a minute then stand him up, drape his dressing-gown round his shoulders and send him to bed.
While preparing my g-and-t I had thoughtfully put a wet tea towel in the freezer. I collect it and go up to the boys room. He is embarrassed to be found bent down with his back to the mirror inspecting his bottom through widely spread legs.
Lie on your stomach, old chap. This is the best way of soothing a sore bum Ive found. I gently put the icy cloth across his bottom, then mould it to the contours of the buttocks.
Youve been punished, youre forgiven and tomorrow is another. Sleep well.