Uncle Christian turns to Raymond. Max has his sons well under control, he says. I aim to have this little brat under a similar control. They look at m and I shift uneasily on my feet. I feel very uncomfortable in my clothes, almost naked and exposed.
Yes, Max agrees. It is important to be very firm when it comes to boys discipline. They first of all must learn to obey instantly, without questions or arguments.
Alfred here still has to learn that, my uncle says.
They are required to show good manners and be polite to all adults and any misdemeanour should be punished with utmost severity.
I dont really know too much about this, Betty says, having only daughters. I dont suppose girls should be punished similarly?
No, definitely not. Girls need only admonishment, perhaps detention or such, but only boys should feel the cane, and plenty of it. Often and hard, I always say.
I stand there feeling awkward as I listen to this conversation. I pluck at the tight seam between my buttocks..
Well, lets join the children. The guests must all have arrived by now.
Attention, girls, Raymond Parson announces in a loud voice. In a short moment there is silence and all eyes are on us. This is Alfred Wilkins, he continues, pushing me in front of him, his hands on my shoulders. He has been a very naughty little boy and his father has been forced to punish him most severely. Now, at the request of todays birthday girl, this punishment will be inflicted today and in this house.
They stare at me and my face is probably puce by now. I sweat and squirm and am only too aware of my skin-tight shorts and bare legs. I feel utterly ridiculous and can hardly keep from crying.
Oh, isnt he cute? someone says. And look at his outfit. Looks like a 5-year-old, another voice says and laughs.
Look at his bottom, a girl who has stepped behind me exclaims, clapping her hands, its practically bursting out of his little shorts.
Look at his thighs! someone exclaims, theyre all marked.
He looks like a little angel, another girl, possibly Wilma, says. I wonder what he has done.
Oh, all boys are nasty little beast, a tall, dark girls snarls, they should all be soundly whipped. Like my little brother. He gets his bare bottom spanked regularly.
Laughter.
Now then, Raymond interrupts this chorus, any guest who wants to attend the infliction may meet us later in my study. Its a very large room so it can accommodate anyone here. The punishment has been set for 4 oclock sharp. Until then you can have your milk and cake, play your games and make as much noise as you like. We adults will be in the sitting room if you need us.
Uncle Christian comes over and takes me by the ear. You will stand over here until its time for your thrashing. He takes a small stool and places it in the corner of the room. Stand on this, hands behind your neck. If you step off the stool, for any reason, you will get a generous extra dose of the cane. Understood?
Oh, Uncle, please dont make me, I start whining again, although I know this will only annoy my Uncle. I cant help it. I cant just stand there exhibiting my bottom while the girls have their fun. Its not fair!
This will cost you 3 good extra cuts, my boy. Any more complaints?
No, Uncle. Im sorry. I step on the stool and place my hands behind my neck.
The next two hours are sheer torture. The girls chat and eat and play but they always come back to look at me and make their stupid comments. When one of the older girls come close behind me and pats my bottom, the rest laugh and one by one follow suit. I am being mauled from all sides and there is nothing I can do about it. I know my uncle comes to the door from time to time to check on me. I have found out which girl is Wilma and which Penny. They inspect me and stroke my bare legs, feel my bottom, and whisper to each other, giggling all the time.
At last the two hours are up. Im not sure if I am relieved or frightened. Maybe both. I wait for Uncle Christian to release me from the stool but dread being led to my place of execution. When he comes, he takes me by the ear again, twisting and pulling it most painfully. Come along now, he says gruffly. Max Dorset is with him and it seems he want to impress him.
Max Dorset grins at me. Now this small boy is going to get a really sound caning, eh? he says, giving me a sharp slap on the bottom. Just what boys your age need.
Uncle Christian propels me into the Parson study and, as Raymond had said, its a large room. A number of girls are already there, waiting expectantly.
Max, my uncle says, still gripping my ear firmly, you have a lot of experience with naughty boys. Would you do the honours? I have brought my cane, of course. I hope you will find it adequate. Hold the boy, will you, while I get it.
Maybe the boy should fetch it himself, Max Dorset says, his eyes on me. Its good for a boy to supply his own punishment instrument and then present it, requesting to be soundly thrashed. He laughs.
A good idea, Uncle Christian says. He hands me the car keys. Alfred, go to the car and bring me the cane. Its in the back seat. Dont dawdle or youll get more.
I hear some girls laugh and I rush out, key in hand. Other girls look me over as I pass on my way out to the parking area. I run, open the car door, bend inside to retrieve the cane that is lying on the floor. I almost fall flat on my face when a hand slaps me hard across my bottom. I recover, turn and see Penny smirking at me.
That bottom of yours is going to get it, nice and hot, eh? she says rather disdainfully. Ive always wanted to see a boy being caned and Wilma agreed to make this her birthday present. It shouldnt matter to you. Youd get that beating in any case, here or in your house. So dont be such a baby. Get back inside and dont forget to bring the cane.
In my attempt to escape, I almost left the cane behind. I took it and rushed back inside, followed closely by Penelope Parsons. When I return to the study, they were all waiting and my face starts burning again. Im only too aware of my silly little clothes, my naked legs, my bulging bottom split by the straining seam between the cheeks.
Max steps up to me and extends his hand. Give me the cane, boy. Hmm, its rather lighter than the ones I sue on Brian, but itll do. Yes, Itll do quite well, I think. Just have to use more force. Dont worry, youll feel it. He swishes the cane through the air and some of the girls gasp at the whistling sound it makes. They apparently have never seen a cane before. Now ask Wilma to unbutton your shorts.
Oh, sir, I -
Three extra cuts, Aunt Rosa calls out. The boy is really behaving quite badly today. Max, I hope you wont spare him. Thrash him well.
Well, Alfred, Uncle Christian says, gripping my ear again. Go to Wilma and ask her politely to please unbutton and lower your shorts. You will do it now and properly if you value that fat bottom of yours.
I start crying but make myself walk towards where Wilma was standing. I swallow hard, take a deep breath, and say, Please, Wilma, would you unbutton and lower my shorts? My voice comes out in sibilant, breathless sounds and the audience is amused. I sweat with shame as tears course down my face.
Wilma giggles and then slowly proceeds to comply with my request. She fumbles with each button and the procedure is dragged out much longer than necessary. The shorts are too tight to fall on their own, so Wilma has to push them past my thighs before they drop to the floor. Now there is more laughter as people realise that Im not wearing underpants.
Now come over here, Max instructs me, pointing to the large leather armchair. Bend over the back, face in the seat cushion, hands on the floor in front of you. I want that bottom at a good angle.
The position is of course well known to me and I am draped over the thick leather back with my bare bottom exposed and visible to all.
Look at how wealed and bruised his bottom already is, I hear a girl whisper. Yes, another replies, I hear he was whipped not so long ago. This is going to hurt him.
How many do you think the boy should receive? Max asks and Aunt Rosa is the one who replies first.
I believe that he has six extra strokes coming three each for two acts of disobedience. His bottom is still quite tender from the looks of it, so I would suggest no more that a dozen. That would make a total of 18 cuts. But they must be quite severe or the boy wont learn from them.
Christian? Max turns to my uncle. Agreed? I know I would have given my Brian 2 dozen with the senior cane, but of course young Alfred here is still quite young.
Very well, Uncle Christian says, lets give him three installments of six strokes each, with a half-hour interval in the corner. Maybe that will leave a more lasting impression than all 18 at once.
A good idea. Lets start with the first six.
There is renewed silence in the room and I hold my breath. It rushes our of my open mouth with a loud hissing noise as the cane buries itself in the flesh of my lower bottom cheeks.
Ooowwww! I screech with the burning pain.
Count, boy, Max snaps as he gives me another lash a bit lower.
Ooowww, aaahhh! T-two, sir.
Two, sir , thank you, sir, Max corrects me and I repeat the sentence with trembling voice.
Each stroke falls a bit lower until the last bites painfully into the fold just above the thighs.
Aaaargh...Ooowww... Six, sir. Thank you, sir! I scream.
This is the first set. Get up and get into the corner. Well continue in 30 minutes, Max says. I scramble off the chair and, holding my flaming buttocks, stumble towards the indicated corner.
Hands off your bottom, Alfred, and behind your neck, if you please. If I see you touching your bottom again, Ill give you three extra. Understood?
Yes, sir, I mumble and stand, hands behind my head, in the far corner of the room. My sobbing gradually subsides as the guests leave me alone to rejoining their festivities.
The wait is interminable. My bottom throbs and burns. My legs feel rubbery. But when they come back, it is too early. My bottom hasnt recovered; on the contrary, it seems more tender now that just after the six strokes.
Back into position, my boy, Max instructs me sharply. I turn and see the girls that have come to watch. Wilma and Penny are there, as I knew they would be, but some of the other girls apparently had lost interest. My audience had dwindled somewhat. I didnt mind. Slowly I leave my corner and walk back to the waiting chair. Each step causes pain in my buttocks but before I can reflect upon this, I am back in my bending position, wealed and throbbing bottom invitingly sticking out for more. I begin to weep as Max raises the cane.
The procedure is repeated and back I stand in the corner, this time my bottom in flames. I can hardly stand, my knees tremble so. The 30-minute waiting time is even worse this time because my bottom hurts so badly and I cant think of what the cane will do when the third set is administered. I stand, tremble and weep.
Very well, Alfred, Uncle Christian exclaims jovially, itll all be over very soon. I hope you are learning your lesson.
Back over the chair, boy, Max adds, picking up the cane once more. The girls are back, too. Wilma, Penelope, and three or four others.
Will you look at those weals, one girl says.
Yes, and that bruise on the right thigh, says another.
Just what little boys need, says a third.
Bent over the chair back, my bottom spread and exposed, I feel my face flush hotly again. I wish it were all over and I can escape back home, back to my room, to hide from all those prying eyes and to nurse my very sore behind.
I scream at each of the last six strokes which causes the girls great amusement. Max seems to listen to Aunt Rosa who keeps encouraging to greater efforts with Give it to him, Max or Lay into him harder, Max.
At last it is over and it is back into the corner. I stand, shorts still around my ankles, bare bottomed in the corner until it is time to go home. With all the guests watching, I am allowed to dress and stalk out of the room. I am conscious of my tight shorts riding up high, pressing into the swollen cheeks. I feel thick welts burning on the exposed upper thighs. I walk painfully towards the car and sit gingerly on the back seat as I get buckled in tightly.
I arrive home and am allowed to retire to my room to nurse my mistreated behind. It is almost 7:00 p. m. Uncle Christian comes in a few minutes later and sits on my bed. I am lying face down, my shorts off, cooling my throbbing bottom.
Uncle Christian puts a hand on my neck. We were lenient with you, Alfred, this time. But be careful. If your work is lacking, or if I detect any signs of disobedience or subordination, it will not go as easy with you the next time. Max tells me that you should watch the next time his son Brian gets the cane. Then you will see how lucky you were tonight. Now get undressed and into bed. I dont want to hear a noise from this room until next morning. I hope I make myself clear.
Yes, Uncle, I murmur. I quickly slip out of my clothes and under the covers, as Uncle Christian closes the door behind him.