I can hardly sit, my bottom is hurting so much. There is a throbbing that seems to go throughout my whole body. I can feel my heart beating in my backside. I am supposed to do my homework and Uncle Christian has warned me that if I didnt get the correct answers to the 25 questions he wrote out for me, as he does every night, he would use the cane again.
I squirm and twist on that hard, wooden chair he makes me sit on, but the movements just make the burning of my stripes even worse. It seems that my entire bottom down to the thighs is covered with tingling weals. It is now about 6:00 p. m. and I have only one hour in which to finish. At around 4:30, when I returned from school with that note from the teacher, Uncle Christian took me to his study and gave me a tremendous thrashing with that long, whippy cane he loves to use. No matter how much I howl and scream during such sessions, he never relents. Sometimes I think he enjoys my screams. I remember one time, just a few months after Uncle Christian was given guardianship over me, when I was bending for the cane, I happened to turn and look up at him as he stood behind and to one side of me, about to beg him to stop. I could be mistaken, but I really thought he was smiling as he raised the cane, his eyes on my bare bottom. When he had read the teachers note, he was so angry. I couldnt believe that he was now smiling. And when I asked him to stop, he quickly lost the smile (if it was that) and snapped at me to bend lower.
This has become customary by now. Hardly ever more than 2 days pass without him belabouring my naked behind with that cane or with that thick leather strap of his which he called a Scots tawse. It has two tails and smacks me into all those places where it hurts the most. Places where the cane cant reach. Sometimes Uncle Christian uses it to warm me up as he calls it. Then, when Im not only warm but actually frying back there, he starts with the cane. I really yell when he does that.
Last week, after one of those really hard whippings, he took me, still crying and sweating, tingling and trembling from top to bottom, to a friends house. I was introduced to his friend, his wife and 2 young daughters. The girls looked at me and giggled when they saw the backs of my thighs. I knew the cane marks were very visible and, even though they were watching, I couldnt help fingering them, or holding my tender backside. It was terribly embarrassing.
When Uncle Christian brought me home that first day, he told his sister Rosa, Now that Im going to have a little boy living with me, I have to get something to keep him in line. Do you know a place where I can buy some good canes, tawses, and so on?
Rosa had laughed. As a matter of fact, a friend of mine, Harriet, just mentioned a store to me last month. They carry everything you need for a boys discipline. I would suggest you get not only a junior cane but also senior and headmaster canes. I know the boy is only ten, but one has to be severe with such boys right from the start or they will take advantage of your kind hospitality.
Maybe we could all go together and do some shopping? It seems you know more about boys than I do. You have so many friends with young children.
Well, Max, Harriets husband, was the one who bought the canes. They have two boys, Brian and Charles, and those canes have been essential in their upbringing, they tell me. Ive seen the boys. They are very polite and well-mannered. They really jump when you order them to do something. They are 14 and 16 now and dont need as much cane as when they were younger, but they still are punished when they make mistakes. Especially the younger, Brian. Hes still in shorts and gets it a couple of times a month.
Well, Alfred, he had turned to me, what do you think? Want to go shopping with us? I was silent but Uncle Charles and Aunt Rosa laughed.
We went the next day. Max couldnt make it, but Harriet and Brian came with us. The store had all sorts of things and only one corner was devoted to the items we had come to buy. Harriet introduced us to the sales lady.
Hello, Jean, this is my brother Christian and his nephew Alfred. Hes is going to live with his Uncle and we need some canes.
The woman looked down on me and smiled. To my Aunt she said, Attractive little chap, isnt he? An angelic face, but you never know. Regardless of the face, boys can be little monsters. Now have a look at these and make your selections. To me she added, Youre going to have that little bottom of yours caned, are you? My face burned.
Come here, Alfred. What do you think of this one? Think that itll do the job? Uncle Christian was holding a long, yellow cane, as thick as his index finger. I stared at it, but said nothing. I just felt my face flush even more.
Thats what the headmasters use on big boys, Jean explained. A bit heavy for this boys small buttocks. Maybe as a reserve for when he is particularly obdurate.
What do you think, Brian? Harriet turned to her younger son. I felt sympathy when his face flushed crimson. He was fairly tall but the brief little shorts he still wore made his legs look even longer.
I - er - he sputtered and they all laughed at his embarrassment.
How about this one? Rosa pointed to a smaller version, but still quite long and just a bit thinner.
Yes, that would work on him, Jean agreed, patting my bottom and making me squirm. I was close to tears by now. A good dozen with this and he wont forget the lesson, she cackled.
And a third one, I think, Aunt Rosa said, searching through the supply. Something for unlimited use when the boy misbehaves. You know, little things they always do, like running, whistling, dropping things. For everyday use, so to speak.
Well, this is the junior cane, Jean selected a thin, whippy little thing that didnt look too bad. This should be just right for the boy. Want to try it out?
I gasped. What was she saying? They werent going to beat me right here in the store?
A good idea, Aunt Rosa said. Alfred, bend over.
I just stood there, looking from one to the other. My hand plucked at my tight shorts. My face flamed and my ears burned.
You see? Aunt Rosa said. He needs lessons in obedience. Now you will have to take your shorts down for it. If you dont obey, we will use the heavier cane.
I started to cry but slowly undid my shorts and pushed them down. We were in a corner of the store and only a few shoppers were within view. I bent.
Good. Christian, give him eight good ones. Just as an introduction. I will hold him down, since its his first experience and I know boys rebel at first.
Let me first try the senior cane, Uncle Christian said, picking up the fearful weapon. I want the boy to get the right impression for his initiation.
He stood slightly to one side of me, two steps behind me, and tapped my bare bottom. Its important to get the distance right, he said. I dont want the tip to land beyond the flanks. Dont worry, Alfred, itll be just one stroke the appetizer. Then youll get the eight with the little cane as the main dish. If you move out of position, youll also get your just desserts. They laughed again but I couldnt see the joke. I was trembling as the cane stroked my lower buttocks.
As I watched fearfully from the corner of my eyes, I saw Uncle Christian raise the cane high above his shoulder, behind his back, slightly twisting his upper body. I closed my eyes when I saw him ready to strike and held my breath. He landed the thick cane will the full force he was capable of, which was considerable. The impact was so violent, I was propelled three steps forward, almost losing my balance. Aunt Rosa held me in place while I screamed with the unbelievable pain that emanated from deep in my throat after a shocked second.
The sales lady Jean nodded. You see, the weal is already rising and turning dark. Its a very effective cane, suitable for older boys of 13 upwards. You can see how the stripe is now almost purple.
Well, Brian? Is this the cane you get at school? Is it effective, you think? Brians mother asked sarcastically and the boys face turned a shade darker. He fiddled with his shorts.
Y-yes, maam, he whispered, looking at his feet.
Even Uncle Christian was impressed. Speaking above my loud howls, he said, Its even bleeding a little. Excellent. I hope Alfred has had a good impression of this cane, mentally as well as physically. More laughter.
Aunt Rosa was still holding me down by the shoulders. Its time for the 8 with the Junior cane. Give it to him while his bottom is still smarting from that beautiful first stroke.
Through my tears I saw Uncle Christian exchange canes and take up his position once more. My screams had subsided enough to get my breath back.
Oh, please, Uncle Christian, I pleaded, it hurts so! Please dont hit me again.
No one paid any attention to me and it was only seconds before the thinner cane sliced into the lower portions of my buttocks. Even though they had suffered only one previous cut, they felt tender all over and I felt as if that second stroke landed on exactly the same spot. I howled again. After a moment, the cane bit again and I realised that the sting was sharp but not as heavy or deep as the first stroke. It stung the skin, but didnt dig as deep into the flesh.
The third stroke landed on my upper thighs and the sting got worse. I wanted to reach back and massage that sting away, but Aunt Rosa kept my arms up front. She seemed to apply all her weight over my bent upper body while Uncle Christian worked meticulously on my lower parts.
Those parts were in flames by the 4th stroke and I writhed desperately, trying to evade those irritating, fiery impacts that kept coming, making the flames in my behind lick across the skin. Two more strokes across the thighs, and the last two into the fold between buttocks and thighs. I screeched out my pain, completely overcome.
Then I was released and told to straighten up. As I clutched my burning backside, tears running down my cheeks, I saw that people had gathered to watch the spectacle and my humiliation was so intense I ran and hid behind Aunt Rosa.
Dont be silly, Alfred, she said, hauling me back into full view of my audience. People want to see how we deal with a naughty little boy who wont obey orders. I stood, sweaty and trembling, and closed my eyes. I wanted to disappear and this was the nearest thing.
How about trying out the tawse? Aunt Rosa said. He still has to have his dessert, dont you think? I believe she said this more for the benefit of the people watching. It seemed they all wanted to see more.
Harriet quickly produced a number of items she described as Scots tawses of the best quality. Some had two tails, others three. They all looked pregnant with pain as if soaked in the boys tears whose bottoms may have suffered from their attention.
This one, with two tails, is the most severe, Harriet said, producing a thick, tan leather strap. Youd think three tails would be more painful, but Ive been told thats not the case. Isnt that right, Brian? I really suggest you get this one. Of course it can be used as much or as little as the occasion demands. But if you need severity, take this one. Tell them, Brian.
The blushing 14-year-old nodded. Yeah, it stings like - er - the dickens, he said softly.
Alfred, how about a dozen as the dessert to close this fine meal. Im sure that from now on youll think twice before disobeying orders. Otherwise I promise you some really bad indigestion from a six-course meal in the future.
Aunt Rosa took me by the shoulders once more and I was bent into the whipping position. My legs were trembling and I practically leaned against Aunt Rosa to keep from falling. My bottom was in so much pain that I didnt know how I was going to be able to take twelve strokes with this formidable tawse. I soon found out.
Uncle Christian beat me with his full strength and my cries of pain and pleas for mercy had absolutely no effect on him. The others just stood by making funny remarks or offering suggestions on how to make me cry a bit louder. I felt those nasty tails sting me everywhere. Unlike the cane, those leather tongues bit me between the legs, into the crotch, even between the bottom cheeks. I felt that Uncle Christian actually aimed purposely at these more tender areas and after twelve terrific strokes, I thought the skin had been whipped off my entire backside. At the end, I couldnt even scream any more. I just whimpered and shook.
Pull up your shorts, boy, Uncle Christian snapped at me, unconcerned about my swollen and thickly ridges bottom. To the sales lady he added, Well take the 3 canes and two of the tawses.
When the items had been wrapped and paid for, we made our departure amid applause of the watching shoppers. Good show! I hope that boy of yours has learned his lesson. Keep it up at home.
I heard their laughter as I was propelled outside, my hot, throbbing bottom tightly encased inside my shorts again.
My thought are back in the present and I realise I had spent too much time day dreaming. My time was almost up and I had hardly started my work. My heart hammered as I heard the approaching foot steps. My uncle was coming! I tried to do some quick writing but my hand trembled so much I was scribbling illegibly. I stopped, sat back and awaited my fate.