by David Phillips

It was the Spring vacation before our last term at high school. Graham and I had recovered from the caning we'd received (see "Sent Off") but were determined to try and get back at that kid who had been the cause of it all. We rode our bikes over to where we knew where he might live but with no real plan of action. The chances of meeting were pretty remote and what would we do anyway? We chained the bikes at some shops and walked up to some woods nearby. There were paths worn in the undergrowth which we just followed while chatting about nothing in particular. One or two other kids were around but we didn't recognize them initially until we realized they were mostly going over to a playing field at the edge of the wood where they were kicking a football around. This looked promising but we couldn't see our "friend" there, so we started back the way we had come. Then Graham suddenly grabbed my arm and indicated to keep quiet. There he was, alone, walking towards the playing field. We managed to get close before he realized we were there. Only after we grabbed him did he recognize us and started really struggling.

"I'm sorry guys, I didn't think you'd get whacked like that", he said.

"You certainly seemed to enjoy it", I replied. "Now lets see how you like it".

Although we had no plan, it all started to come together so easily. I had him with his arm pushed up his back so he was bent over and couldn't get away or move much. Graham looked around and cut a branch from a nearby bush, about the length and thickness of the cane that had been used on us. When he saw it he started whining and struggling more than ever but I was able to hold him. I pushed him to a fallen tree trunk and bent him over it without too much trouble and it seemed he was either resigned to his fate or might even be enjoying the prospect.

"Go on Graham give it to him, then I'll have a go." With that Graham laid the first stroke across his upturned buttocks. He jumped and strained and gave a yelp before starting to plead again. After only one whack? This must be good.

As Graham continued I watched the squirling rear end, realizing that he was wearing those same white nylon soccer shorts. The whip was leaving green marks where it had hit. He was screaming out loud by now and I was getting worried that we might be heard even through all the trees and bushes. Graham and I swapped places as I wanted my turn before we would have to stop. I had a better idea too - I pulled his shorts down to reveal those two big buttocks criss-crossed with red and blue stripes. It was obvious however that Graham had not got a good aim. They were concentrated on the right cheek and were all fairly high, he'd missed that sensitive area at the top of the thigh or perhaps the shorts had protected him. I would soon correct that! The whip felt surprisingly heavy and obviously served the purpose well, probably a nice fresh whippy wood was even better than the dry cane.

I gave him a dozen strokes trying to aim in the same way that the headmaster had beaten us and making sure I got the really tender part. At the end he was crying and wimpering and I almost felt sorry for him as he pulled up his shorts over that raw butt. I had a strong erection and noticed that he was not fully erect but bigger than either Graham or me!

As he ran off, muttering about revenge, we felt pretty good having got our revenge at last. We went back towards where our bikes were but obviously not fast enough because before we got to the edge of the wood we were confronted by some of the kids that we had seen playing soccer and shortly afterwards our "friend" joined them. His face was still red and his eyes red but he now had a smile on his face again even as he rubbed his rearend.

I felt suddenly very sick as I realized the trouble we were in and Graham had gone rather white in the face. Nervously I dropped the whippy branch that I had continued to hold since the whipping had finished. We just stood there looking at one another for a few moments. Any thought of escape was hopeless as they had effectively surrounded us and there was about eight to our two. He came over and picked up the branch that I had dropped and swished it in the air a few times and made me wince.

"Now we''ll see who gets their revenge won't we?", he laughed. "I think we'll take you first and you can watch what's in store for you".

They grabbed Graham but at the same time a couple of the guys got hold of my arms just to make sure I didn't try to get away. They took Graham over to tree with a low branch and held his arms the other side, pulling him up until he was on his toes. Then the guy in the white shorts went round, undid Graham's belt and pulled his jeans and briefs down to his ankles. His T-shirt was short enough to reveal his white buttocks clenching and relaxing as he tried to look over his shoulder at what was about to happen - as if there was any doubt. The kid really laid it on hard and fast. Graham was writhing and screaming in no time. The kid offered the other guys a chance at the target and a couple took over. Most of them had real hard-ons showing through their shorts and mine was straining in my tight jeans.

They eventually let Graham down and with difficulty he pulled up his briefs and jeans. They made him stay to watch my fate.

"You don't know how much pleasure this will give me", the kid said as I was dragged over to the tree. He pushed his face close to mine as his hands undid the buttons on my jeans and pulled the down. I wasn't wearing any underwear so I was immediately naked and he made some remark about the size of my penis but I was too engrossed in the next stage to worry about those sort of remarks. I couldn't help but tense up as I prepared for the first lash but it seemed a long time coming. Then, WHOOSH, CRACK, and my butt burst in flames. This was far worse than I remember the caning at school and I began to feel sorry that we started all this again - especially might bright idea about pulling his shorts down to beat his bare ass. The whacks kept coming and soon it didn't seem to matter any more, there was just no more pain I could feel. This time several of the other guys decided to join in the whipping of my poor butt but eventually it was all over and I sank to the ground utterly drained, sobbing, unable to move for several minutes.

They left us there, inspecting our significant wounds. I was bleeding in several spots and the stripes on my upper thighs were agony every step I took. My jeans rubbed on the welts as my T-shirt also didn't go down far enough. We got back to our bikes but riding them was murder. I tried to slip in the house without being noticed but my mother doesn't miss a thing and knew something had happened - she also knew that I wouldn't tell her.

We didn't go looking for revenge again but that didn't stop me getting into trouble again before I left school.

Other stories by David Phillips