My twin brother Andrew, aged 12 (like me!) was a keen gymnast. He practised in a boys' group, under the strict tutelage of Miss Matouska. I had never met Miss M., and, from stories of how she managed the boys, had no wish to! 'Drew and I also had the job of cleaning the Gym twice a week, for extra pocket money.
A little while after the incident with the ruler-smacking of our friend Brian (aged 11, twin bro of Terry), Andrew announced that he wanted to start his own gym club. Because of our cleaning contract, he had access to the Gym, and reckoned that he knew a few people (boys and girls) who would be interested. He had always been pretty keen on health, exercise and fitness. Apparently the mysterious Miss Matouska has been teaching him massage therapy, and he was pretty keen to try it out on a class of his own!
Without really realising it, I had always had a fascination with seeing gymnastics, particularly boys, and loved to see the old pictures and statues of naked boy gymnasts and athletes (especially wrestlers) in ancient Greece. I wondered what it would be like as a trainee gymnast, working out under the guidance and discipline of a stern tutor. Thinking about the sting of his little whip on my bare flanks made me all hot and quivering with excitement!
So when Andrew announced his plan for a private Gym Club, I felt all funny and was almost too scared to ask if I could join it, for fear of being rejected. But he seemed happy enough (in fact, very happy!) to have me in, along with the twins Brian and Terry Wilson, and some other kids. First meeting was to be the very next day, following the cleaning job at the Gym. He wouldn't say much about what we would be doing, except that the first session would be an "assessment", to set our standards and plan a "personal improvement programme" for each member.
That night I could hardly contain my excitement about the Gym Club. Hauling out my old collection of pictures of gymnasts, I gazed lovingly through them. My own clumsy drawings of boys being disciplined in the course of their training was a special treasure that I frequently added to, improving over the months.
Next day was school-sports day, and I wore my G-string knickers and little sports-tunic. After school, Andrew an I cleaned the Gym as usual. Then I noticed that Brian and Terry had arrived, and had finished their preliminary sauna and shower while 'Drew and I worked. They were sitting around draped in towels near the massage tables, in front of a wooden screen near the sauna. The screen was semi-private, allowing slight visibility of the tables, if you stood close to the screen. While 'Drew attended to the others, I stripped-off, took a towel, and entered the sauna.
After sauna and cold shower, I towelled-down and peeped through the screen. Brian had finished and gone into the Gym. I almost jumped out of my skin to see that Kev was face-down, naked on the massage table, being oiled and rubbed by Andrew. To the sound of gentle pastoral music, the lithe and lissom lad, smooth and gleaming with oil in the dim light, was writhing around and giggling as 'Drew rubbed and kneaded his shoulders and back. Kev was bit heavier than Brian, but the lovely smooth curves of his rump and thighs carried no excess flesh, as he squirmed and wriggled under 'Drew's firm touch.
The rubbing and stroking was then replaced by the end of 'Drew's fingers rapidly patting the boy's flesh, hardly enough to sting, all over the back from neck to ankles. This became progressively stronger, developing into stinging little slaps, particularly on the back and sides of the buttocks and thighs. Once Kev yelped and twisted, and was rewarded with couple of ready hard slaps on the rump, and a warning from 'Drew to relax and stay still! It made a wonderful loud slapping sound, that I've grown to love and cherish.
'Drew rolled-over his client and worked on the front, massaging Kev's chest, groin and thighs gently, then with little slaps and then sharp, stinging slaps, gathering tempo with the massage music. The front of his thighs must have been really rosey-red by the end of it! Motioning Kev to stay, 'Drew reached for his whisks: two little bundles of twigs that he kept for after-sauna use. Each one made a wonderful Swiiisssh-SMACK as it was applied, rapidly beating the squirming boy across the front of his bare legs. Kev's little dick wobbled and tossed to the rhythm of it. The whisking was completed by once again turning Kev to face-down, and working around the back and sides of his thighs and buttocks, reaching a frenzied crescendo with the music A couple of times, Kev's little protest squirm was met with some really hard stingers that must have left beautiful red stripes.
Standing naked behind the screen, holding the towel to my front, I was quite oblivious to anything but the spectacle, As the music stopped, 'Drew delivered a pair of Grand-Final slaps to the rump, and announced "There y'go mate, all done - Off ya' go to the Gym now" and put away his whisks. Kev hopped up and pranced about a little, stroking his stinging thighs and rump. As he passed into bright light, I was intrigued to see that he was, indeed, pink from the whisking, and criss-crossed by a maze of small red stripes. Kevin showered and dressed in his little gym shorts and shirt, then joined his bro in the Gym. I could only surmise that Brian had been similarly prepared for the gymnastic assessment to come.
I squeaked with shock when 'Drew looked directly at me through the screen: "Your turn now, sis!" he announced with a big friendly grin, gesturing towards the table. He obviously knew all along that I had been watching. Feeling suddenly shy, I hesitated, then came out around the end of the screen, holding my towel in front of me. I slowly approached my twin brother with eyes downcast, as though with respect for my master, and stood before him for a moment. Then, passing the towel behind my hips, I lay face-down on the massage table.
As another piece of massage-music started, without a word, 'Drew dipped his fingers in massage oil, and started applying it to my neck, shoulders and back. As he gently massaged my excitedly-twisting muscles, I settled-down and lapsed into a sort of meditation, squirming rhythmically to the music. It occurred to me that my towel had disappeared, but it didn't seem to matter! 'Drew's nimble fingers were working all over my body, stroking, kneading and gently slapping in time to the music. My mind turned to my brother's experiences with the mysterious Miss Matouska, and how he had acquired the exotic arts of massage at such a tender age. The thoughts caused me to wriggle and squirm with pleasure. Suddenly: SLAP ! - "Ouch!" - my rump was afire with his hand-print! "Just settle down, there", he whispered. I longed to look over my shoulder at the red print on my buttock, nut thought better of it.
The whisking was just indescribable. Slapping me gentle all over with the twigs, Andrew made me feel just so alive, so calmly excited, that I just wanted it to go for ever. Again I squirmed too much and was whipped across the front of my thighs by the twigs. Despite the fierce stinging, I could tell that there was no bruising or damage. As he whisked the back and sides of my tingling rump and thighs with the rising tumult of music, the stinging and excitement were almost unbearable, but not painful. Hard to describe. Suddenly the music stopped. The Grand-Final "Mother of All Stings" lashed across my buttocks, and I leapt from the table.
Hopping and prancing like a high-stepping show-pony, I grabbed at my stinging rump and legs, rubbing them and exalting in the sheer physicality of this experience. I felt that I never wanted to wear clothes again, and wanted all the world to see and touch me and I frolicked. Reluctantly, I took another cold shower, admiring the gorgeous hand-prints and whisking-stripes, I towelled and donned my pants, bra, shirt and my little sports tunic.
We were all ready for the Gym Assessment to begin ...