I knew all the people at the party. There was Michael of course, that's Michael Gabriel Flynn, who was boss of this little gang of petty thieves and rogues, and Sean, and Razor Bill, a dab hand with the cut-throat, and Big Henry, bouncer and Michael's minder, all of them. I knew them because, as probation officer to most of them, I had overlooked it every time they breached their orders and substituted a good bare-bottom spanking for the regulation disciplinary procedures. I was hopelessly compromised.
Sean had told me I had been ' invited ' to attend. It was a branding party, and I had a shrewd idea what that meant. When dealing with Sean I had seen ' MGF ' branded on the inside of his leg. I was distinctly uneasy, and I have to confess I was trembling even before I got to the door.
" Come in, you're the guest of honour ", said Michael. Was that good or bad ?
I didn't have long to wait to find out. While the rest were drinking and loosening up, Henry had been deputed to strip me in the bathroom, which he could have done with one hand tied behind his back if necessary. He cleaned me up where apprehension had made me lose control. He's quite a nice man actually. Then, to the sound of mock trumpets, he led me into the living-room and, on Michael's instructions, stood me in all my nakedness on top of the table.
" Not much hair on the poof ", said Sean, but the others wanted their money's-worth, so Bill was told to shave me.
" Don't worry, boy ", said Michael, " Bill's not here to do his usual. " And he drew his finger across my throat as a gesture, and roared. "This is more mundane ", he said, delighted with the word.
No indeed. I have never been so embarrassed in my life. Bill got Sean to hold a basin of hot water, and deftly he removed the fuzz from my arse, not forgetting the crack. Then as the gang applauded louder he scythed off the hairs from around my balls, laid my lower belly bare and, holding my _c_o_c_k_ by the helmet, he stripped it of all those stray bristles _c_o_c_k_s collect. In the process, naturally, my member had become engorged, twice its normal size and stiff as a post. My face was as red as a beetroot. The _c_o_c_k_ stood out all the more because there was now no hair to hide in.
" That's not a bad tool ", said Sean.
" On with the spanking ", said Michael, and I realised my own predilection for a good, red rump was shared.
I think there were a dozen of them. I was passed from man to man, each of them savouring my distress and humiliation as only low-life can. Michael led, and my arse was soon red and sore, and I began to blub, not so much because of the pain, though that was intense, but out of a sort of rage that I had been so stupid and brought it all on myself.
Sean concentrated on those especially vulnerable points, the line where my cheeks met the upper thighs, and the inside of my legs. The buttocks were throbbing already, and I vaguely remembered his own legs, with one of them ... what ? I couldn't quite bring it to mind.
Big Henry had no finesse, bless him, and he pounded my poor bum like an inanimate machine, a pile-driver. It was quickly rather bruised, but he was obviously in a mood to do his duty, so to speak, and would have carried on all night if the others had not grown impatient, wanting their turn to humble this la-di-da probation oficer.
I screamed with pain and shame as the others all followed suit. I remember Razor Bill showed a remarkable aptitude for it, making me smart and sting, and making a sort of electric current seem to jump from bruise to bruise. He was grinning malevolently. He had played quite a large part in the evening's entertainment, and I wondered why he was enjoying himself so much. I fainted once or twice, and they jeered at my weakness.
" Cry Baby !", they yelled, and someone found a baby's dummy and stuffed it in my mouth.
Eventually they called a halt, and stood me in the corner with my hands clasped behind my head, so that I couldn't rub my wretched arse. They had their chicken sandwiches then, and Michael produced some brandy. My own lips were dry but, for the moment, they had other things to do. Someone was imitating a judge.
" Time for initiation ", said Michael. God, wasn't the spanking sufficient initiation ?
Big Henry stretched me over the table, while Sean pulled my right leg to one side, and somebody, Slippery Sid I think, did the same to my left. I remembered now the import of the tender inner thigh. I shrieked - but to no avail. I saw Michael take his implement, an electric device with wires fashioned so as to form a pattern, stars, stripes, or in this case letters. He plugged it in, and the wires soon became red-hot. Suddenly, he did it, I felt an agonising, excruciating pain and heard my own flesh sizzling. My leg shook violently, and then I passed out again.
When I came to, I saw that they had left me on the table, naked, burned, branded, while they finished off their lagers and smoked their ciggies. The wound was oozing, and when Henry saw I had come round he dressed it with lint and a bandage, and he patted my beer-gut.
When the others had gone, shouting and singing in raucous voices that brought the neighbours to their windows, Michael helped me off the table, used me for a while, and dressed me himself, before packing me off home.
" You're really one of us now, boy ", he said. "Welcome to the fraternity !" He had been deliberately learning some fancy words, I could see. To impress me ?