Marcus, Ian, William and Timothy trooped into the school hall for morning assembly with the rest of the boys. Barely an hour had passed since the four little nine year olds had been on the receiving end of the headmaster's cane, and their bare bottoms were still drawing attention from their school friends. Although the pre-teens were basking in the attention from the others, especially the older boys, they all agreed that even this notoriety was not worth the agony of the headmaster's caning! The boys sat down gingerly, their small backsides still feeling very tender from their hidings, and waited for the assembly to begin. Marcus sat down carefully at first, worried about placing his thrashed bottom on the hard wooden chair, but found that the seat was actually nice and cool, soothing the six stripes that decorated his rounded little cheeks. The other three felt the same, and, although none of them would ever admit it, they were quite relieved that they had not been allowed to put on any underpants or trousers, leaving their sore bottoms bare for the rest of the day. Boys at Weeping Willows were not concerned with nudity, being a boarding school they saw each other naked all the time. Leaving bottoms bare after a hiding, even a relatively mild one, served the purpose of getting a message through to the rest of the boys. Caned bottoms would be the consequence of smoking! But to the four punished lads, the cool air on their hot rear ends was preferable to having to pull up their shorts and underpants.
It was only when they were settled on their chairs that the school noticed what was on the stage. Their minds so taken up with their own hidings that the four recently caned nine year-olds had forgotten about the top year boys who had admitted to bringing the cigarettes into school in the first place. As murmur of excitement, quickly silenced by the arrival of the headmaster, rippled across the hall as the stark naked figures of Max and Adam were noticed, each boy standing in a corner of the stage, facing the wall, hands on head. In the middle of the stage were two specially built trestles. Rumours about the whipping trestles had always been part of the lore of punishment at the school, but none of the boys presently seated had actually seen them, and most had thought they were just a legend. But there they were! Complete with straps to hold down the ankles and wrists of a boy being thrashed!
As the headmaster had entered the hall, the seated boys had all immediately stood up. The usual formalities of the assembly continued, with no reference being made to the naked 12 year-olds standing up at the front. Of course, every lad and could not help himself glancing at Max and Adam, who looked so helpless and scared, their rounded, bare young bottoms clenching regularly as they worried about what would be happening to them. One thing was certain. Those tender cheeks would be severely whipped!
"I am disappointed to announce that for the first time in many years I have to punish two senior boys for not only smoking," the headmasters spoke solemnly, "but also for supplying cigarettes to younger boys, and letting them receive a strapping before deciding to own up. This is as tantamount to dishonesty, and I'm afraid that only the soundest of thrashings have to be the consequence!"
He walked over to Max, took the boy by his ear and led him to one of the trestles. Max was not a very big boy for his age, and although his body was tightly muscled and beautifully tanned, he was quite thin. His bottom, of course was in perfect proportion to the rest of him, neat and rounded. He had light brown hair, and just before he was turned around the spectators could see that he had already been crying.
"Bend over," the headmaster ordered, releasing the pre-teens ear, and not even considering rebelling; Max carefully lowered himself over the trestle. The headmaster made the naked boy spread his legs as wide as he could, and then strapped his ankles to the trestle. Then he walked around to the front and secured Max's wrists. The boy could not move, and the school had an excellent view of his well raised white bottom. Some of them snickered at the site of the submissively restrained 12 year-olds balls as they hung down between his legs. Although completely hairless, Max was proud of his development down there, and boasted about it continually. Now his classmates could have a good laugh at his embarrassment.
Finished now with Max, the headmaster crossed to Adam. Adam was a far sturdier boy than Max, ash blonde hair and bright green eyes giving him an almost angelic appearance. His body was well muscled, although also completely hairless below the eyebrows, and his bottom looked particularly rounded and tender as he was marched across to his trestle by sir. He responded even slower to the order to bend over than Max had and was rewarded by 10 hard slaps from the headmaster's big hand as soon as he was fastened in position. Sirs hand prints were clearly visible on the pre-teens chubby rounded bottom, another cause for giggles especially from the younger boys this time. Both boys were secured, helpless, bottom raised well up, higher than any other points of their bodies. All the boys at Weeping Willows were familiar with positioning their bottoms for punishment, but all felt for the two 12 year olds – they really did look particularly vulnerable.
Sitting among the boys, Murray could only stare, horrified. It was his first week at the school, and he had been aware of a commotion down stairs the previous night when Marcus and friends had been strapped. Although the eleven year old was himself no stranger to corporal punishment – he was regularly thrashed at home, and had even had six of the best from his primary school headmaster on the bare bottom, for vandalizing some desks, he was amazed how much sore bottoms dominated Weeping Willows lifestyle. He had been shocked to see the four nine year old come out of the headmasters office bare bottomed, and hear that they were to spend the day like that. And now this! His dad had said that he needed to go to a stricter school, and the naturally naughty preteen realized that he would find it almost impossible to avoid hidings, despite his good intentions. But like all the other little boys, the pretty blond boy settled back to enjoy the show.
The headmaster disappeared for a moment behind the stage and when he returned there was another gasp from the assembled boys. Max and Adam lifted their heads and both sobbed aloud when they saw the weapon that was to be used on their widespread naked little bottoms. It had been hanging in the school foyer for many years, and the boys had all assumed that it was just for show. But now the feared school whip was about to be put to proper use! It was a long, tapering sjambok! The four nine year-olds who had been so recently caned shuffled their bare bottoms nervously on their chairs, grateful that it was not them secured to those trestles, naked bums up and ready for thrashing with that ferocious looking whip that sir was now swishing through the air behind Max and Adam. The school was silent. This was going to be a show that all of them would remember, and each little boy, ages ranging from eight to thirteen, imagined himself secured like the two on the stage, ready to receive terrible hidings, and shuddered.
Sir started with Max. Gently, taking his time, almost playfully, he stroked then tapped the 12 year olds hopelessly exposed buttocks with the tip of the whip, while the boy sobbed quietly, tears of fearful anticipation already running down his cheeks. How could he have been so stupid? And now, here he was, ready for the kind of punishment that only legends were made of, and he had only himself to blame. The light caress of the whip on his bottom, the whole school watching, and the certain knowledge that it would be the most painful hiding of his whole life, and he would not be able to hold back the cries and yells as his exposed bum was thrashed. Next to him, Adam turned his head to try and catch his friends eye. But Max had his eyes firmly shut, the tears starting to leak out of them, as he waited for the pain to start.
"Watch carefully," the headmaster ordered the assembled school unnecessarily, "I want you to see what could happen to any of you."
With that, he stepped back, and, using the graceful technique that so many members of his audience were painfully familiar with, he cracked the sjambok across the white little, widespread orbs of Maxs backside. There was initially no reaction from the boy, and then the pain set in. The preteens whole body tensed as he tried to pull in his exposed bottom, his attempts to clench his buttocks foiled by his spread legs as the magnitude of what was happening to his slim tail set in. He didnt make a sound at first, but, after a pause of about thirty seconds, the second stripe was lashed across his cheeks, every boy in the hall could hear the preteens low whine as he tried to be brave.
Adam had heard the crack of the whip on Maxs bottom, and, his head still turned, had witnessed how his friends tightly closed eyes had opened wide at the agony of it, the boys face contorting with pain. Suddenly, he was really scared. Max was tough, and could take a good hiding. But he was really suffering here. Then he felt the whip being lined up on his own bare bottom, and instinctively tried to pull his tightly bound legs together to clench his exposed bum. A fruitless effort of course, so instead all the 12 year old could do was close his eyes and brace himself.
The headmaster took just as long stroking Adams rounded little cheeks as he had Maxs. When he did lift the whip back and snap it across his young target, the sound of the sjambok meeting boy flesh was completely different. Adams bottom was much chubbier than his friends bum, but the sight of the whip cracking across his backside was no less entertaining for the watching boys, and the sound of it connecting, followed by the desperate plunging of the naked boy as he tried to escape the pain was just as satisfying to sir. After a suitable pause, he whipped the rounded little cheeks of the crying boy, and Adam, not as brave as Max, wailed with the agony of the fierce sjambok wrapping itself round his exposed buttocks.
There was not a sound in the hall, save for the quiet sobbing of the two miscreants on the stage, as sir crossed back to Max. Again, he took his time, caressing the boys bottom with the tip of the whip, enjoying the lads nervousness as he waited for some more lashes. Max now knew what it was like, and dreaded the inevitable burning agony. The two stripes already laid across his bottom throbbed and burned, but this did not daunt the headmaster as he skillfully lashed the naked hindquarters of the preteen again. This time Max yelped, unable to hold back his reaction. As he had before, sir waited, then lashed the helpless boy again, getting another, more desperate yelp from the 12 year old.
Max expected the whip to sound on Adams backside again, and so was completely unprepared for it to crack across his own bottom yet again. He wailed with the painful surprise, and desperately tried to wiggle some of the sting out of his blazing rump. Again, the sjambok wrapped its fiery path across his slim bum cheeks, making the boy feel as if he was being literally cut in half.
Adam had been expecting to feel the whip snap across his own rounded little bottom after Max had had his next two, and was just as surprised as his friend when he heard the crack of the sjambok across Maxs bottom yet again. After the fourth lash, Adam was even more disturbed to hear Maxs cries, and the expression on the other boys face said it all. This was not getting easier, and Adam, light blond hair sticking to his forehead, ears and face red, simply dropped his head and braced himself when he felt the wicked whip being lined up once again on his exposed bottom. He could hardly believe the pain as the whip bit once again into his cheeks. Forgetting the audience, Adam yelled out, writhing and bucking, his strong preteen body no match for the straps that held him in place. He would stay bent over that trestle, having his backside beaten, for as long as the headmaster wanted him there. Momentarily, he remembered his own fathers warning. Adam had got a few hidings at school last term, and his usually relaxed dad had warned him that his behaviour at school was not acceptable. Then he had shown his horrified son the brand new cane that he had bought, and promised the boy that it would be soundly applied to his bare bottom should there be any more poor behaviour reported to him. There was no doubt that at the next school exeat, Adams poor bottom would be thrashed once again, this time by his own father.
The headmaster couldnt decide which boy he was enjoying beating the most. Max had a slim, muscular little bottom, in perfect proportion to the rest of his body. And Adam had a rounded, chubby bottom – perfect for his more sturdy build. Both equally thrashable. He continued with Adams hiding, giving the wailing 12 year old his four solid strokes, applying the sjambok like a pro to his now distinctly red and welted little target. Then he stepped back, admiring his handiwork.
Each boy had a very sore looking bottom indeed. Their preteen tails well striped with six good welts each. He had, of course, focused the hidings on the lower half of the boys bottoms, but there was still plenty of room for more lashes, especially right down in the lowest, soft part of their rounded young behinds. He reached down and gently squeezed Maxs throbbing bottom, then leant over the boy and whispered in his ear,
"Now Ive warmed you up, Im going to give you a hiding that you will remember every time you sit down for weeks!"
Max sobbed as the man stood, and he felt the sjambok gently stroking his battered bottom once again. The headmaster was true to his word. The whip fell, right in the tenderest part of the 12 year olds bottom, sending the boy into a different world of disciplinary pain. He wailed as the whip bit into his lower bum, feeling as if it was cutting right into his very soul. This was indeed true punishment, designed to take a boy right to the edge of his endurance. The headmaster administered six slow, blistering strokes to Maxs poor little bottom, enjoying and crying and writhing of the punished boy, and the awed silence of the rest of the school behind him.
Stepping back, he admired Maxs beaten bottom. The preteens backside was uniformly scarlet, but the twelve stripes from the whip decorated the lower half of the childs rear end, each welt almost touching, but not a drop of blood. Indeed, a good, skilled hiding, and a job well done. As he crossed back to the nervous Adam, sir looked briefly down at his audience of little boys. His eyes met Bens eyes – arguably the most thashable boy in the school, and a regular visitor to his office. In that split second, the little ten year old realized that he would, sooner or later, find himself over one of those trestles, his bare bottom being whipped just as soundly as these two bigger boys bottoms.
None too softly, the headmaster gripped Adams bottom cheeks, making the boy wince with the pain as his bruised buttock were squeezed, and then leant over him to whisper,
"Now its your turn, young man. Now your hiding really starts!"
Adams bottom, being chubbier, was far more satisfying to whip lower down than Maxs. The preteen had given up all pretenses of being brave, and as the sjambok bit into this most sensitive area of his hindquarters, he screamed. But this only served to encourage sir, who slowly applied his whip five more times to the naked boys bum. Again, when he was finished, he stepped back, admiring the clear evidence of a good hiding. A battered, bruised little bottom – no doubt about it that the owner would not sit comfortably for some time. But it was a credit to his skill at applying corporal punishment that he had not once broken the boys skin.
Turning back to the assembled boys, the headmaster, waving his whip in the air for emphasis, lectured them on the importance of honesty. Then, detailing some older boys to release Max and Adam, he stalked out. The punished boys were helped up by their classmates as the rest of the school left the hall. Their form master had been instructed to remind them that they were to remain totally naked for the day, so that all the boys could see their whipped bottoms. The whip was replaced in the foyer, but the headmaster and boys all were well aware that its presence would be felt across more and more bottoms in the future.