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I think that it is fair to warn my dear readers that this is not a sweet and cuddly sort of story as the theme requires a much more brutal, i.e., sadistic, narrative about spanking and whipping. If such subjects are offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.
This is a different sort of story than I usually write. Although it does have a consistent theme and is a story it appears to be a batch of separate vignettes. Looking at it from that latter point of view, it is an MMSA malespank.net reviewer's nightmare for it encompasses all of the six genres defined by the archive; of the twenty-two story categories it includes seventeen of them (four are inappropriate to the theme and one, School CP - other traditions, I have no idea about); it has all thirteen listed implements and some others plus all four extra goodies rating icons. The age and sex range of the characters include all the defined ones and it even has some sex and j/o for good measure. My apologies to the reviewer.
This story has a strange property in that the chapters (sections) may be rearranged at will with the following limitation: the first chapter is always first and the last two are (in either order) remain at the end.
This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.
The author would appreciate your comments – pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions.
Something for Everyone – Almost
Things had not gone as I had planned. That damn bank guard had no business shooting Smiley – especially in the back. Nobody had gotten hurt until then and the haul was a good one. A sack full of hundred dollar notes – used C-notes. Of course, I hadn't counted it yet but four six-inch stacks must be four hundred grand. As Smiley fell I jumped and turned. I shot that damn bank dick in self-defense before he got me. As he tumbled to the deck I gave Smiley one last look. He lay sprawled on the floor – the bullet had entered his head and obviously he was dead. I kept going; the car was right by the curb. I jumped in and floored the gas. I laid rubber for twenty feet and then headed out of town. The boarder was only fifty miles away.
It took all my concentration to keep on the road at seventy miles per hour. Thinking back, perhaps that was a mistake for now I had acquired a tail. Some hick cop was chasing after me. But I knew the roads and even though it was dark I killed my lights. The cop wouldn't see me turning onto the side road and I would be OK. That part went fine for I lost the tail. My mistake was not turning the lights back on. I hit something as I raced onto the old bridge. "Damn coyote." I cursed.
But it was not a coyote. It had been a "BRIDGE OUT" sign. I was going so fast that I hit the other side of the hole and fell into the raging river. With the windows open the car filled with water and sank within three minutes.
* * * * * * * * * *© YLeeCoyote
I was eight today. I had been looking forward to my party. There was going to be chocolate ice cream and chocolate cake and lots and lots of presents from all my friends. Unfortunately, Sarah was going to be there. My sister was just a baby of five and was always a big pest messing things up. But mom and dad had insisted that she be there so she was. I really hadn't meant to hurt her but she had grabbed my presents. I was only protecting my stuff. I grabbed her and she fell. Then she started to bawl. Mom and dad were outraged. This was not the first time. The last time I had been spanked and they had made promises. Mom and dad always kept those sorts of promises.
While mom consoled Sarah, daddy dealt with me. In front of all my friends daddy dealt with me. Daddy sat down on the porch steps and yelled at me – the birthday boy. Everyone watched in silence. Then daddy opened my belt and my jeans and pulled them down. "Please daddy, don't….." I pleaded. But it did not do any good for daddy yanked my Spiderman briefs down exposing me to everyone before hauling me over the parental lap. Daddy's big hard hand soon came down on my small tender bottom hard and over and over. The spanks could be heard for a block (or so I thought) as I cried like a little sissy baby in front of everyone. It was an eternity before daddy stopped and pulled up my pants. I had to stand in the corner for a half hour while everyone one else played at my birthday party. I was sure that they were all talking about my hot red bottom.
The chocolate ice cream and the chocolate cake did make me feel better but I knew that everyone saw me spanked on the bare bottom and crying. But if I ran and hid I would not get my presents so I had to stay. They all sang Happy Birthday and I blew out the candles with one breath which was good. Then everyone lined up to give me my presents and a birthday spanking. There was no way out of this ritual. It was usually lots of fun but it would not be fun today.
The girls were not bad. They did not hit very hard. The boys were different. They hit as hard as they could just like I did to them on their birthdays. This was different. My bottom was still red hot from daddy's spanking and they really hurt. I even cried a little and they all laughed at me.
It was the worst birthday party I ever had.
* * * * * * * * * *
I was standing on the wooden deck of HMS Invincible. I was surrounded at a distance by the rest of the crew and facing the officers standing on the quarter deck. The Captain was speaking. "… having been found guilty of petty theft you are sentenced to be flogged. Bosun, do your duty."
"Aye, Sir." replied the Bosun as he gave the signal to his assistants. I was quickly strung up to the rigging and my blouse ripped up the back to expose my back. The Bosun took the cat from the bucket of seawater and snapped it, splattering many with sea water. Then he approached me and started his grim task. This was my first flogging and I howled at the first cut. I had seen others flogged and I knew that the marks were clear even before the second cut. I howled again but the bosun continued until my back was raw from the cat's tails. The ship's company watched in silence.
"That's enough." said the captain and the bosun stopped. One assistant emptied the bucket of sea water on my back and the second covered my back with salt. I fainted and woke in the sickbay. My back hurt like I was in hell.
* * * * * * * * * *
It was back to school today to start the fifth grade. Nine full months of teachers, books and HOMEWORK and SCHOOL NIGHTS. Mrs. Smithe is a monster. She is new to the school and said that she believes in the old ways and that she won't stand for any nonsense. She was looking at us boys and I saw that the girls were smirking as she told us about the SLIPPER. Actually it was the sole from a sneaker that would have fit the Jolly Green Giant! The CRACK when she slammed it on the desk caused the girls to stop smirking and the boys give her their full attention.
The Old Bat was going on and on about something very boring and no one was paying attention. She called on three guys and no one knew what to answer. Then she yelled at everyone and said we had to pay attention or else. She went on droning and then called on Jill who was passing a note to June. Well Jill could not answer her question and then had to hand over the note, Oh, did Jill turn red when she had to read it aloud to the class.
But the best was yet to come. She made Jill bend over her desk with her butt facing the class. She lifted Jill's dress up so we could see her panties. Boy oh boy, did Jill howl as the Old Bat gave her three WHACKS with the slipper turning her bottom even redder than her panties.
This was a fun day until a few minutes later. I had been busy drawing a cartoon of the old bitty and not paying attention until she popped a quiz on the class. It was about the nonsense she had been droning on about. I did not know a bit of it so I started to copy from Stephanie but I had not been watching out as I should have. She came from behind and snatched my paper and the cartoon which was right under it. She grabbed my ear and dragged me to the front corner of the room and made me stand there until she collected all the papers.
I was in hot water for she yelled at me for copying – stealing she called it. She did not like what I drew either. I guess that you know was going to happen. I had to bend over the desk like Jill had. Well, I did and then she asked the class: "Is that how Jill was?"
Well I did not have a skirt so I could not lift that up. The girls and some of the guys yelled "NO!". Then she ordered me to drop my jeans. I wish I had listened to mother about wearing clean underwear for there were lots of howls when I did drop my jeans. Fortunately no one could see my red face. She made snide comments about my briefs and then pulled them down past my knees. It should have been fun mooning everyone but it was not. First, you are getting five for not paying attention (hey, Jill only got three!) and ten for stealing.
Boy did that hurt. I lost count but the class did not. They counted out loud with glee all the way to fifteen. I was crying by ten. I stood in the corner with my pants still down for an hour.
* * * * * * * * * *
The only way I could get close the hunky studs of the varsity team was by becoming the water boy. They did not like me and if I had any sense I would have quit just to avoid the abuse they constantly heaped on me because I was such a runt. But every night after a game or practice I would jerk off thinking about their great bodies I got to see up close in the locker room. I would pull at my puny joystick until it popped its small load of cum into my hand. Sometimes I got lucky and they, particularly after a win, would show off their big hard cocks in the showers while I peeked. Several times I swiped a jock strap still warm and sweaty from holding a hot package. After they left I would jerk off in it while it was still hot. I did this once too often. Apparently they noticed their loss and one day they came back and caught me.
"You're going to pay for this, punk."
"No more stealing our stuff, fag."
It was then that I saw the paddle the captain was holding. I begged and pleaded but they dragged me into the gym and pulled me over a horse. I was already bare assed as they all had a go at me. There were a dozen of them and I completely lost track as I howled as they turned my butt into hamburger. Several of them then rammed their man cocks into my holes both fore and aft.
I guess that was a bonus for they did that after every game but only after paddling me raw.
* * * * * * * * * *
The wagon train had been plodding along the trail through the great plains for days and I was sick of it. I think it would have even been better back in school. The wagon master decided that we should give the animals a rest and stay put a couple of days. (He did not worry about the humans though.) John was thirteen, like me, and we were becoming friends. Pa told me that I could play for the afternoon and we did. We went up stream some and went skinny dipping. Not only was that fun but maybe I could talk maw out having to take a bath. On the way back we saw that Nick and Tim were doing the same thing. Well, you should not leave your clothes on the bank like that so we decided to teach them a lesson and have some fun all at the same time. Unfortunately they saw us so we dropped their clothes and ran.
It was after dinner that their pa came by to speak to John's and mine. The clothes bit was not the problem but Nick was missing his jack knife. Pa made me empty my pockets and there it was. I gave it back to Nick and said it was only a joke but that did not cut it with pa. He said that he was ashamed that his son was a thief. He ordered me to get his razor strap. So right there, in front of everyone, he made me drop my britches and lean over the back of the wagon. He gave me ten cuts right across my bare butt. They were hard as he could do it and Pa is strong. I was bawling like a little kid.
I had to walk the next few days because I could not sit.
* * * * * * * * * *
I was thrilled when I found the key on the floor near Mrs. Rayburn's office. Larry had told me that she had a spanking machine but that it was hidden. The tag said "S.M." on one side and "B-101" on the other. I slipped it into my pocket and waited until the end of the day. I hid in my locker until everyone was gone before I headed for the basement and room 101. There was not much light as I made my way past the furnace, storage and maintenance rooms. I slipped the key into the lock and opened the door. It was dark but I could see that there was some device in the center of the room.
"So you're the thief that stole the key Theodore Cleaver." bellowed the janitor as he turned on the light. I tried to explain that I found the key but since I used it that did not make any difference. I was "a thief after the fact" (whatever that means) he said. He picked up a phone. "I got the thief, Mrs. Rayburn." he said happily.
She was there in just a couple of minutes. "Theodore, I'm surprised at you. You will have to be punished." The janitor suggested that this would be a chance to test the spanking machine and she agreed. "Theodore remove your pants and get on the machine."
I took off my pants and as the Janitor strapped me into position he removed my briefs explaining "They did not do anything wrong so there no need to spank them." He turned on the machine and a paddle hit my naked exposed butt lightly. "That was it set to 1." Then he turned a knob and it hit harder. "That's 2." He kept turning it up until I was yelling with every stroke and even crying before it was set to 10.
"Let's try the strap, please." she said. The janitor stopped the machine and made some changes. The strap hurt a lot also and I kept crying. Eventually, they stopped it and let me leave.
"You better be a good boy or you will be back here again, Theodore." I was very good after that. That machine really could spank hard.
* * * * * * * * * *
I knew it was the wrong thing to do but at thirteen it's very hard to get even a Playboy magazine. I had slipped it inside the sports magazine which Uncle paid for along with the other stuff we had gone to get. Everything was going just fine as we started to leave when the clerk handed it to me. It slipped and the contraband slipped out and onto the floor. Uncle was furious both at having to pay for it because it was damaged and because I stole it. He was too incensed to wait until we got back home. He just sat down on the bench in from of the store and pulled me over his lap. Actually, that was after he pulled my jeans and boxers down to my ankles. I rationalized that it was better to get it by hand then with the strap when we got home but I had not counted on what we had just brought. He reached into the bag and pulled out the shinny new, wide-back, heavy hairbrush my aunt had wanted.
I think that the strap might have hurt less. He pounded my ass over and over with that hairbrush. I was, of course, yelling, but all that did was attract more attention. I think that every kid in town and his brother was there watching Uncle turn my butt into hamburger. I did not yell after while because I could not take the pain and was bawling.
Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to do the spanker's dance in public when you are just beginning to get pubes? Especially when lots of people have cameras. Believe me you don't want to know especially when your little cousin has one of the cameras. She treasures the pictures as do my parents.
* * * * * * * * * *
It was an easy caper I thought. I had the swag in a sack as I dropped off the fire escape into the alley. I was thinking how much I would get when I realized that there was an obstruction in front of me. Two huge coppers. Each of them was rapping his nightstick in the palm of his hand. Since the alley was only four foot wide I was trapped but I tried to run past them. That was extra stupid because it got them mad. They were also prepared for a sixteen-year-old punk like me and they just stuck out their night sticks and I jammed them into my own gut. I dropped like a lead weight at their feet.
"This punk needs to be taught some manners." said one and the other agreed as the tossed me in the patrol car. We did not go to the station but were soon down at the otherwise deserted park.
The police chief was there waiting with a big grin and a tawse. "So that's the punk?" he asked unnecessarily.
"Strip, punk." he ordered, "and don't run unless you want to be shot." patting his gun.
I stripped and they tossed my stuff in a bag. They cuffed my wrists (none too gently) and dragged me over a table. They tied the cuffs to the far side so I could not move. "How old are you punk?" one of them snarled. "And it better match your id."
"Fifteen, sir." I whispered.
The chief went first. He was very methodical starting at the top of my butt and working his way down to my thighs. It hurt. It hurt real bad especially the second time. Then the other two coppers took their turns.
I could not sit for a week. I got three years in the reformatory also.
* * * * * * * * * *
I was the only one sent to the reformatory that day so all the input staff could concentrate on me. The Director (that's what they called him but sadistic warden would have fit better) gave me a lecture and called me a thief. "We'll beat that out of you." he boasted. I had to strip and get searched even though I had been in custody for weeks. My stuff was bagged. First, they gave me a buzz cut and not just on the head but my pits and then my crotch. Next they bent me over a table and rammed a tube up my butt hole. «Well at least they're not fucking me.» I though. They had some device and soon my butt was filled so that I felt like it was coming out of my mouth. That, of course, was between the cramps that were wringing my guts like wet towels. They kept me suffering and then told me to let it out. I never obeyed so pleasantly even though they were watching me take a dump.
They gave me two more and I was exhausted. I could hardly stand for the cold-water shower with the coarse soap. They did not dry me off before they put another thing up my butt and looked in. What they expected to find I cannot imagine after those three enemas. After pulling that tube out one of them stuck a finger up there and felt around. I know why he did that – so the finger would be tasty to probe my mouth. UGH!
One of them rang a bell and a kid came in. "Give him a full shave, Billy." one of them said and I watched him take out a can of shaving cream and a straight razor. "Punk" he said to me "I suggest that you stay very still unless you want to be cut." I stayed very still as Billy shaved my head and pits and pubes and sac and even my butt crack. They gave me another ice cold shower.
They tied me to some sort of frame and the warden, ER, sorry, the director took a batch of twigs from a bucket. "Punk, when you don't do what you are told – immediately – you get punished. This is a BIRCH. It is one of the things we use. Now this is for stealing." He then thought me how much it hurt by birching me with it. By the time he had finished the demonstration my back and ass and legs were in agony. The cold brine they threw on me stung as it entered the cuts.
"Billy, loosen him up for us." was the order and Billy responded very cheerfully. He quickly stripped and it was then that I saw that he was not a little kid but hung like a horse.
He put a stool behind him and climbed onto it. When I begged him not to he just laughed and said: "I'm fucking you no matter what. I'll rip you apart if you resist." As soon as he pressed his monster against my hole I knew that he was right. I did my best to let him in but it still hurt like the blazes. Then they all fucked me.
Still naked I was led to my dorm room by Billy. "Here's the new pussy, guys." he chimed as he lead me to my bunk. My fellow prisoners looked at me hungrily. I thought that I was tough but I was no match for the guys in the reformatory. They were older and stronger and organized. The guards liked it that way since it made their jobs easier but I was not to learn that for a while. They had their way with me that day and many more.
* * * * * * * * * *
It seemed like a good idea at the time. The priest always made his house calls in the morning but the church was left open so that people could come and pray. And, most importantly, fill the poor box. I was poor so I felt that I was entitled to it. They made their bank deposit on Thursday afternoon so I went on Thursday morning. It only took me only a second to cut the chain that held the heavy box to the wall. I popped it into my sack and then I realized that the candlesticks were silver and went to the altar for them. That was my undoing for as I did that the priest returned. He was not your little bookwormish old man. He was young and had boxed for the university while studying for the cloth but I did not know that. I pushed him as I rushed for the door and he decked me with one punch in the gut.
I was naked when I came to in some sort of cell made of stone with an iron door. This was no ordinary prison. A little light came in through a small window. Soon it got dark as night fell. I was hungry and cold as well as very scared. Eventually I fell asleep on the straw that lined my cell. When I awoke it was day but I was left alone until the next night. At long last they came for me. I was lectured at long length about my sins and how I must repent. They preached that true penitence was painful. They left me some stale bread and dirty water when they locked me in again for another full day.
When they came again I begged for forgiveness but they said I must suffer more. I was dragged from my cell into another room lit by torches. There were three big men there. All were dressed the same – hoods and tight shorts made of black leather. One had a heavy martinet also of black leather. The other two tied me to rings on the wall. "The devil must be beaten out of you." they proclaimed loudly. The martinet then barked and I yelled as it slashed my back. They beat me until I passed out. It was the next day that I awoke in great pain, cold and hungry.
That night they came again. "The evil must be beaten out of you." they declared. I was made to kowtow before the one with the martinet. Then he stepped forward so that his ankles were by my ears and ordered me to hold his ankles. He used that vicious many tailed martinet to beat my ass raw. Over and over it came crashing down like a thousand angry hornets on my flesh. It did not get just my cheeks for it had many tails; each one with a vicious mind of its own. These tails wrapped about my round butt slashing into my crack to get at my sensitive hole. Even worse, many times they reached lower and got my balls in their thin sack. Some even sneeringly kissed the head of my cock.
In the morning I found some stale bread and dirty water in my cell. My back was still in agony from the first punishment and my butt was cut and swollen. I felt like my package was in acid.
Two days later they gave me back my clothes and drove me back to my neighborhood. When they dumped me out of the car they said: "Sin no more." I hobbled home and collapsed after taking a batch of pain killers.
* * * * * * * * * *
I was amazed when I first saw the stuff in the storage closet in the bio lab. A couple of cases of pure CH₃CH₂OH in liter bottles. Scotch is best, gin is good but pure ethanol will do just as well as vodka for good time. Especially when it is free for the taking and you cannot even buy it yourself. Beside the school will never notice.
I picked the time carefully. Half the school – including the masters – was off on trips that Saturday evening when I snuck into the science hall. It was deserted and I used my small torch very little even when picking the lock. It was when I reached the front hall that suddenly the lights went on and I saw the Master standing by the door. The conversation was just what you would expect as I was relieved of the bottles.
It was midday Monday before the Head got to me. First the lecture and then dropping my trousers and pants and bending over for six of the best from the senior cane. The Head has the reputation of laying them on hard and effectively. I can attest that he does. I was the center of attraction in PE that afternoon as everyone inspected the tracks. I was not expelled for two more days.
* * * * * * * * * *
Flipping hamburgers and mopping floors in a fast food joint does not pay very well and I was sick of eating overdone burgers and cold burnt fries. While I did register duty so that June could have her break I managed to slip a couple of twenties out of the register and into my pocket. It was so very cool until June counted her cash and was short. Mr. Night Manager checked the video and spotted my appropriation. If I handed back the cash and accepted his punishment they wouldn't call the cops. I did not have any choice.
After we cleaned up for the night, I had to confess my crime and beg for both forgiveness and punishment on my knees. He made me strip completely for that and then bend over a table. He gave me ten hard cuts with his belt and he soon had me howling. All the staff there got to give me three each for an additional fifteen cuts.
I limped home and knew that I would be sore for a least week but at least I wasn't in jail and still had the shitty job.
It was three days later that Mr. Night Manager fired me and told me that I better not use him for a reference.
* * * * * * * * * *
It was a hot summer day and I wanted ice cream. I had spent my allowance. There was not any in the freezer. There was a whole dollar in mother's purse on the hall table when I heard the ice truck bells. I took the dollar and ran out and got a chocolate pop. I was sitting on the porch steps licking away at the delicious cold sweet creamy pleasure when Mom came out of the house and sat down beside me. "May I have some?" she asked. Of course, I answered handing her the pop. She took a large bite and asked where I got the money for this. I confessed my crime by the time she finished the pop.
She opened my shorts and pulled them off so I was left in just my superhero briefs. I had learnt not to resist any of this and stood there as she yanked my briefs down and off right there on the front steps. She pulled me over her lap and then my bottom felt something new. It hurt a lot more than her hand as it repeatedly struck my tender bottom until it was all red – like shinny apples (I looked in the mirror later) – and I was crying.
I was lead to the wall by the front door and had to stand there for a half hour holding the quarter inch thick, two inch wide, half yard long ruler that taught me a lesson.
* * * * * * * * * *
I wanted to get laid but did not have any bread so I hauled my butt over to the university hoping to pick up some college chick. What I found was that the frats were having open houses and had a lot of free food. I figured that the chick would wait a bit and started to go into the houses to get some food and beer. I wasn't known there so I could pass for a transfer student checking things out. In one house I went upstairs following a few chicks but they quickly were paired off without me. Then I saw a really cool leather jacket hanging on a coat hook and grabbed it. I slipped it on and headed out. As I approached the door, this guy said it was a great jacket and I thanked him.
Suddenly there were others about me. "Your jacket, friend?" growled one.
"Yep." I snapped back.
"And you're a member of ΣΜ." pointing to the logo. "We don't think so, boy." They grabbed me and dragged me down to the basement. "We teach thieves lessons here." They stripped me of the jacket, put some tape across my mouth and tied me up and stuffed me into a closet. I heard the partying going on and on. Eventually I fell asleep.
They took me out hours later. I was surrounded by a batch of young guys – the oldest was no more than twenty at least five years younger than I. They examined the contents of my wallet and gave me the choice of the police or being punished by the sophs. With my record I could not chose the cops.
It was not very long that I was stripped and they took a barber clipper to me. They did everything from head to toe leaving me hairless. They tied me over something and then I saw the paddle. It was at least three feet long and five inches wide and with a two-handed grip. Then this human gorilla picked it up and smiled at me. "This is going to be fun. Lots of fun."
"Please, not the paddle. Call the police." I pleaded and they laughed. Then Tarzan's buddy gave me the first cut. I saw stars and comets and novas and I howled.
"Stealing is a sin and a crime." they mocked. Blow after blow struck my ass so hard that I though my pelvis would be busted as I howled. I passed out before they were done but they were prepared with smelling salts so they could continue without my missing anything. Eventually they decided it was enough and stopped. Then they gang raped me. You know how frat boys are – horny. All of those there fucked me and then others came to do the same.
That night they stuffed me into my car trunk naked and drove me out into the country. Suddenly the trunk was opened and I heard them drive off. I crawled out of the trunk my ass raw both inside and out. I had no idea where I was but I had four flats and an empty gas tank. Eventually the Sheriff showed up. He counted fifteen open beer cans and busted me.
* * * * * * * * * *
Mrs. Bridgett was famous for her fresh fruit pies and there were three of them just sitting on her kitchen windowsill cooling. They smelt ever so delicious that I liberated one and was dashing behind the shed when I ran right into Mr. Bridgett. He was not pleased for he loved his wife's pies. He took the pie in one hand and wrapped his other hand about my arm like an iron claw and dragged me back to the window to return it. Then all the way back to the willow tree by the stream. He made me cut a switch and threatened that if it was too thin, he would cut another and use both on me.
I gave him the switch, dropped my overalls and bent over. He hit harder than Pa! I lost count but it was more than ten cuts and some were in the sensitive crease too. I was also yelling from the pain and used some very rude words. I must have been very loud for Mrs. Bridgett came running. Then while Mr. Bridgett held me she washed out my mouth with a soapy rag. "We must get rid of those foul and blasphemous words." she said sternly.
Back home Pa saw me having trouble sitting. After dinner he took me out to the woodshed and strapped me for shaming the family.
* * * * * * * * * *
I don't know why I did it. I really did not need it. But I wanted it. I wanted it so bad that I slipped out of the locker room after the afternoon swim and went back to the camp site. I knew what troop the kid was in and quickly found his tent thanks to the fancy signs they made in woodcraft. I searched his bag and found it in just seconds. I knew that I would not have much time so I dashed from the tent. Someone yelled: "What are you doing here?" but I kept going. I was sure that I lost them. Not five minutes later a pack of angry thirteen-year-old scouts barged into my tent. At sixteen I was indignant at the intrusion not knowing why they were there. "There it is!" yelled one of them pointing to my new treasure on my bunk. They took a picture and then jumped me. I was overwhelmed by the pack and was quickly tied up and dragged back to their campsite.
They formed a kangaroo court which tried and found me guilty of theft. I was sentenced to be beaten. I was tied over a bench and they pulled my pants down. Then they attacked me with their riding crops. Soon my butt was on fire from the stings of hundred of vigorous cut from the implements made for far tougher horse skin.
Back with my own troop, I was still in trouble. They drummed me out that night.
* * * * * * * * * *
It was a spur of the moment thing when opportunity knocked. The old lady was standing there – alone – probably waiting for her chauffeured Rolls. The diamonds sparkled in the starlight. I grabbed the necklace and ran. Unfortunately, I ran right into two cops who had me in cuffs in just seconds. The wheels of justice race here and in the morning I was before the judge. They did not care that I was a visitor but that she fell and was hurt. "Ten cuts this afternoon and expulsion." was all the judge said.
Two hours later I was naked and being dragged into the punishment room for the sentence to be carried out. They strapped me over some sort of trestle with a pillow over my kidneys. Then I saw what they were going to use. It was being carried by a half-naked, very muscular cop. It was a rattan cane; not a school cane but one that was half inch in diameter and four feet long. I screamed for the first cut and every one of the remaining nine. My ass was in tatters. They left me there for hours. I spent the night in jail not being able to move.
A couple of day later they said I was expelled. They had my luggage and took me to Singapore Changi International Airport. That was twenty-five years ago when I was twenty five. I still can feel the pain and see the scars.
* * * * * * * * * *
I would be two-hundred-moons in just two more cycles and I had to prove to the tribe that I was a man in more ways than in seasons. We had a drought for several years and going in the middle of the dry season was not the best of times but I was sure that I would prove myself and make my father proud. I could not wait a year for then it would be my brother's time and if we both succeeded he would become the head of the clan. I would be shammed forever.
I prepared the few things that I was to take and set off on my solo quest. Living was very hard. Both game and water were hard to find. I headed for the mountains in hopes of finding a great eagle or mountain lion. Either would bring great honor – provided that I survived. It was hard finding things to eat for even rabbits were few. I had lost several arrows and broken others; my supply was dangerously low. The materials were not available even if I hard the time to craft them and I could not trade for them even if I had something to trade. I was desperate and knew what I had to do when I saw their campfire.
I made my way close and saw that they were from the neighboring tribe. I watched carefully to see where their arrows were storied. After midnight I stole into the camp and took three arrows – one from each of the three quivers. More would have been better but even this was wrong.
I was about to slip back into the night when one raised the alarm. They were on me in seconds. I gave no fight hoping that they would kill me quickly and end my disgrace. But that did not happen. I lay there waiting for death at dawn. That did not happen either. At dawn I begged them to kill me and also give my apologies to my father and encouragement to my brother. They said that I must be punished and commanded me to strip.
Then I was taken across a lap and spanked long and hard with my own moccasin like a little boy rather strapped like a brave. Just a day later I got my eagle and returned home. I confessed to my father and noted that I never used the extra three arrows. I returned those, with some eagle feathers to the other tribe.
The shame never left me or my father.
* * * * * * * * * *
There was lots of talk about the medical experiment at the university. I was only interested on one detail – the narcotics that they used. The place was always deserted on Friday nights and the campus rent-a-cops were busy on fraternity row. It was easy to get in for the old lock on the front door could be opened with a straw. The lab lock was a bit harder but I had the time. I just forced the supply cabinet. I was delighted for the ten vials would bring a couple of C-notes each. I put them in my sack and head out happy. As I opened the door I got a face full of mace. My eyes sealed shut burning and I could not even yell as I collapsed into a fetal position.
Hours later I still was burning even after long hour of washing. They had me cold and I was surprised that I was not in jail. I was sure that it would have been better. Even prison for years would have been better than what they did.
They strapped me into a wooden chair – yep, such like you see in the execution chamber of Sing Sing Prison . There was a metal helmet with lots of wires coming out of it and a needle in the vein of my left arm. They started to put something into me and then I started to feel things in my head. It was real; at least for me it was real; more than real. I was a little boy and had taken money from my mommy's purse and now I was over her lap being spanked. Every little spank was agony in my head. That was just the first of many. I was a school boy caught stealing from the lockers and being beaten with a tawse. I shoplifted and got flogged. I burgled a store and was beaten in the pillory. It went on and on. In everyone I stole, was caught and beaten. It was burnt into my head not to steal. I passed out.
It is decades later and I still remember the pain as if it just happened. I never could steal again for when I tried it was like my ass was hit with a red hot paddle.
* * * * * * * * * *
I had no idea whose rooms I ransacked three days ago at the Werfge Hunting Lodge. It was only while I was in the pit awaiting my punishment did I learn that they were those of Ambassador Worf and that our own ruler was greatly embarrassed. In an effort to placate the ambassador he was given the option to administer the punishment himself. In the pit with me is the whip implement so that I can fully anticipate what is to happen. It is a vicious implement three times my height made of the hide of the Grifkin which has thorn-like hairs. It is a beast one does not want to ever touch yet I'm obliged to keep it wrapped about my body as I await punishment.
They drag me out of my pit before dawn and into the courtyard. There is a collar about my neck attached high above so that I cannot move. At noon they come and read the sentence – ten cuts. The ambassador has come for blood – mine – and that he will get. He picks up the whip and snaps it. It cracks like an explosion and rips up the grass as he pulls it back. Then he goes for me.
The whip roars through the air and lands on my rump and wraps around me. The sharp hairs dig deep into my flesh and I howl. I howl again as he yanks the whip free rending my flesh. I can see the blood running down my front and know that it is doing the same on my back. Then Worf roars a Klingon war cry as he lashes out at me again. This time he gets my upper back and pecs. The pain is incredible and I screech.
After that I know nothing but searing pain. Soon I lose consciousness. They tell me that it was by the fifth cut. I'm in the hospital so that the flesh heals. Scars form where my flesh was ripped off. I am totally broken and no longer a man. If I do not work at the dirtiest menial and low-paying jobs they will beat me again. I dread that with all my soul.
There is no end! Return to the beginning.
© Copyright A.I.L., May 10, 2005
Need I mention that the copyrights to Star Trek (Worf) and Leave It to Beaver (Beaver, Mrs. Rayburn, Larry, Wally) are owned by some big companies and I'm just using those characters under the parody exception to the copyright laws.
In The Price of Fame (episode # 65) Beaver does snoop around looking for a spanking machine but only gets locked in the principal's office and rides home on a fire truck.
The actual Singapore procedure is shown at www.corpun.com/singfeat.htm
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