Author's Note: This is a true description of a young man here who needed to learn the hard way.
He hung there sobbing his eyes out and still choking back coughs from the last outburst. He was bare,
absolutely naked, his head with its now messed up black shiny hair lay buried in a huge feather pillow
that softened his cries when he broke down and let it all out. His hands were still gripping that pillow
like a steel vice to
Under any circumstances this boy had a beautiful firm bottom that in tight jeans attracted attention and, together with his outlined basket, cried out to be bared and given some solid attention. Right now, however, it was as red as fire and sizzling hot from where it had just been caressed, slapped, and painted again and again with the soft leather straps of the French martinet. His spanking had left his buns nice and very rosy, but it was the sharp, quick, almost always unanticipated strokes of the fine leather martinet that had added stinging pain and left their mark.
Small, thin, even tiny red stripes were clearly visible right across the boy's bare bottom.
The boy knew my eyes were looking at his bare ass and considering his deepest needs and emotions. Without moving or even trying to bring his thighs and legs together, he was doing all he could to tighten those buns. The indentations in the side of them only heightened them and displayed his buns and ass more fully and prominently across those pillows for what many would call "his well deserved punishment".
Was it over ? He had to be thinking that and hoping it was. But I, only I, would decide.
At that moment, you see, I stood above him, one of my knees now on the bed beside his well-punished bare body. My right hand still held the martinet should he move or disobey me in any way. The leather lingered on the top of his left bun. But it was my other hand that was running my fingers gently over the very hot but perfectly smooth bare skin of those hot buns he was so proud of. The boy knew better than to squirm too as I went between them and fingered him even more intimately. He lay there sobbing gently into that feather pillow. And well he ought to ! The boy remained as still as possible. When I added some pressure low down and even deep in there, he moaned somewhat in spite of his tears which were beginning to lessen.
This young man would remain like this for now. The way he was propped up was exposing a now very firm and hard cock extending down between his spread legs against the pillows. The boy's balls were low hung there for my touch and the tender stroking of my fingers. So, why not ? I stroked him gently but unexpectedly with my middle fingernail. Pressure right at the base of his ball sac did the trick and his cock pushed itself down even more strongly. This young man's body would obey my hand. I knew it; he knew it too.
Then suddenly I raised my hand and quickly slapped his bare bottom sharply across both cheeks.
"OUHHHHEEEEEEEEH," he exclaimed quietly and gasped as if he were about to cry even more again.
Never mind, my hand stroked those buns and felt him. From now on, I was sure he would be a very good boy.
The boy jerked and tightened his whole body again when my hand touched him. But it was only when my
fingernails softly went along the outlines of those stripes that were in groups of five across his bare
bottom that he simply went wild with wiggling and bucking the pillow. His head still remained buried
with his hands still
But it was the palm of my hand that I suddenly and unexpectedly landed hard across his bare bottom again that caused him to scream out unexpectedly and buck even more furiously in pain. I kept my palm on his bare bottom, just where I had landed it.
I waited for him to get it out . . . again.
Then after about five minutes of holding him like that, it was I who spoke softly: "Get up and come
here to me, boy." The young man haltingly raised his head and looked back cautiously at me standing
there. He saw me moving backwards slightly toward a chair. Slowly but surely he rose up on his knees and
backed off the bed by himself, standing there naked momentarily, tears covering his wet face, his eyes
horribly red, his
Was it over ? He had to be thinking that and hoping it was.
His head was almost wedged between my own shoulder and neck now. Bare, whipped, emotional, and still sniffling more than a little bit, his bare body was as close to me on my lap as it possibly could be. Earlier resistance was gone now. This young man was submissive in my hands.
"That a boy," ignoring what I knew he was thinking I only whispered softly. My hand went down his back and cupped his red bun causing him to jerk and yelp at its touch, but the boy's head remained on my shoulders. When my free hand touched his cock and began to go up the underside shaft to his balls he exploded as soon as I touched its tip. Then he turned as hard as a rock seemingly within minutes. I just held him there, my hands on his ass and his cock and balls; after all, it had not been anything other than a young man needing to be punished on a Saturday evening.
I moved my fingers near his balls, stroking them, and he responded, moaned and nuzzled my neck even more closely. My other hand was enjoying his smooth radiantly hot buns as I calmed him down.
Was it enough ? Did he deserve more ?
I myself was in no hurry, having gone this far; and, after all, we had all night to tend to this !
To tell the truth, all of this had been building up for weeks. Little things, yes; but finally I had had
it. My warnings had gone in one ear and out the other. He had seen, they all had seen, the small leather
The boys here at the moment all began to do all kinds of extra little things around the place and then, when we happened to be alone, each nibbled a bit:
"Ah, you're not going to spank me with that ? Are you ? I hope you say 'No'." Mei was the first one to ask me about it in the study. I smiled, hugged him. He was as open to me as ever, had been spanked with it before, but I never answered him.
"The tutor in Madrid threatened to use one like that on me once, Sir. But the one in your study looks deadly." Rual had at least added that comment one night, but then he let the issue drop and dashed out to yet another endless school party. I had said nothing. To call him a "free spirit" would be an understatement, but that was just the way he was.
"Please, do you think I'm getting close to a spanking ? You know I'm trying my best on all this university stuff. I mean if you think I'm not trying good enough, I can take my clothes off and you can spank me right now. I really don't want to ever have to feel that !" Bruce being American was more direct. But, still, I said nothing. "I mean, come on, you can tell me, Cal. Is it for me ?"
"Sooooo, who's that for ? Nimit coming over maybe ?" Zach added over the weekend he was down here. "I don't want you to use that on me !" he had said and then quickly added, ". . . please."
"Wow !" Paolo commented when he came in one night and saw it there. "I remember when you used that one on me when I was first with you in Amsterdam. Now that was good ! Some nights I dream about that thing and the first time you whipped me. That thing's lethal, but you know I'm ALWAYS ready for anything you think I need." Paolo had picked it up in his hands and let the leather straps flow through his fingers. No question he was interested in it. "It's a major fantasy but it hurts." He put it back down on the small polished table and came and hugged me long and hard that night. Jeeze, he felt good ! But then he always did.
But the one that almost made me laugh was: "I want you to spank me," Bin, the youngest said one night in my den as he was slipping down his Levi's and looking very nervous.
"Why ? You did something today ?"
His briefs were half down and off. "I don't want to have to feel that strap !" He was completely bare now. "I think I need a spanking though. You always say sometimes I just need one so give me one now."
He stood there naked, half jumped in my arms as I hugged him, patted his bare bottom, and yes, I complied. After all, if a boy like him thinks he needs a spanking, it probably couldn't hurt to give him one. So, I picked him up, carried him in the next room, kicking the door behind me, and spanked his fine little bare bottom over my lap ! I knew he had only done that because he had thought maybe it was his ass I was thinking about using that strap on. Never mind, I ensured his spanking that night was memorable anyway.
All that was during the first week (!) and weekend (!!) that the little strap sat there on the table in my study. Then Sunday night I brought it out and I oiled it while we all watched HBO. You could have heard a pin drop in the room. Homework and the little things they each were to do were now all being performed with a sterling character and diligence to make the Queen's valet beam with pride. All I could do was smile.
The boys seemed to spend more time telling me about their day and were making sure I knew everything that was going on in their lives.
All the boys, that is, but the one who just seemed to go aloof and into his own world increasingly those days.
Still I said nothing.
The small, whip-like strap sat there on a table in my study, and it continued to have its effect on the whole household. The longer it lay there, the more the boys tensed up. I let it go on and gave no hints at all. None of the boys said anything openly further, as if ignoring it would make it go away. But it did not go away. The strap just sat there . . . waiting . . . waiting.
But the time had come by that next Saturday night that one of the boys needed some quick and firm attention. I had not planned on spanking his ass and whipping it good and hard for him. I had not planned anything, but it happened.
Friday night this one had come in maybe just a couple of minutes later than he told me he would. No big deal, given our traffic and the difficulty of timing the public system. He had been out at a school function, a party I would call it if you had asked me. His clothes were ruffled. His hair was a mess. He walked in and yelled "I'm home." Usually he would come into the room where I was and tell me about his evening but tonight he dashed into the bathroom. By the time he walked into where I was watching CNN, he had changed into a bathrobe after having taken a shower.
"Too hot tonight," he said flopping down beside me on the couch. The red silk bathrobe parted and the rather skimpy white cotton briefs he was wearing showed nicely against his tan skin. His hair was still wet and he was towelling it off. He leaned over and hugged me. "Sorry I was a couple of minutes later than planned, but there was an accident up the way that tied things up."
No question he was nice to have around here ! Without thinking anything of it, I tweaked his nipples and ran my hand down his stomach, exposed when the silk robe parted. That always caused this young man's cock to bulge against the cotton restraint in his briefs pouch and usually spring loose in my hand. This night it didn't.
"Can I watch TV with you ?" he asked, but before I could answer he had shucked his bathrobe to a clump on the floor and dove beside me under the blanket. With him close against me under that blanket, I took matters into my own hands and tugged his briefs down and off him. He was naked under that blanket. Still, unlike what was most typical of him, this night his cock remained flaccid and did not rise much for thirty minutes or so.
"I'm tired," he said, "had a bad night." He felt good anyway.
We talked and watched HBO, but he just did not seem normal. Regardless, I was tired too and did not pay much attention to it.
The next morning he slept in far longer than usual for a Saturday morning. When he did wander into the breakfast room, he simply flopped down on the chair and poured himself some pineapple juice. He was only wearing a brief and he looked like he had not yet showered. Something was wrong. He seemed lethargic and not himself at all.
"You not feeling well ?" I asked.
"No, I'm OK, just tired," was his reply. "I think I'll skip soccer today."
He never skips soccer practice !
"Why ? Something's wrong ?" I questioned.
"No, tired that's all," he said unconvincingly.
"Go back to my bedroom and wait for me there." I spoke but softly.
"Ah, Cal !" He seemed agitated. "I'm just tired, that's all."
"You heard what I said ?"
He looked at me and got up and went quickly now.
I followed him in there and shut the door. He turned and looked at me. "Really, I'm sorry, but I'm just tired, that's really all it is."
"Take your brief off," I said, looking at him carefully.
He did immediately and stood there in all his youthful sleek beauty. I just looked at him. His body was almost completely hairless but still well defined in all the right places. His cock hung loose but slightly erect now.
"Really, I'm OK," he said still unconvincingly. "I mean, check me out if you want. I'm OK, really I am. Just give me some time, and, ah, please don't spank me this morning."
"Come over here." He did. His hands went to his head where they remained and I went over his body carefully.
His cock responded when my hands cupped it and his balls more carefully, but more slowly than usual. Other than that, I noticed nothing. I turned him and continued checking him out. As I finished more personally, his cock was firm and high with his balls tight as normal for him.
"Get the thermometer," I added.
Usually he objected to that, but this time he did it promptly and said nothing. When he returned he handed it to me and draped himself up over my lap without having to be told to do so. Beautiful boy ! I separated his cheeks and inserted it deeply and slowly after lubing him up carefully and very thoroughly. By now he was hard as a rock over my lap as I held the thermometer deep in there.
My boy over my lap simply squirmed his buns seductively a bit but still showed no signs of resistance. "I'm really OK, just tired, you'll see," he said.
"Nothing happened last night you want to tell me about ?"
"No, nothing."
"You positive ?"
"Yea, sure. I'm just tired that's all."
His temp was normal. I patted his buns. "OK, get up and get in my bed for a while. If you're so tired, you need to rest more."
"Ah, Cal ! Come on, I'll be OK, I promise." He stood.
"You sure there's nothing you need to tell me ?" I was still not buying it. I patted his ass. "In the bed and rest until I come and tell you you can get up."
"But I'm fine, Cal, really."
"You need a spanking ?" I asked.
"No, Sir, no, I don't, I promise, I'll go to bed if you say." He paused to reach down to retrieve his white brief from where it was laying on the tile floor.
"Leave it," I said when I saw what he was doing. "No one to see you but me and I may decide you need a spanking after all. It's been a while." I smiled at him but he did not smile back. Instead he hugged me.
"I really appreciate your concern, Cal, but I'm fine. If you say I have to rest, OK, I will." He jumped into my overly large bed and I turned to leave. "Can I have the remote ?" he asked after me.
"Stay there and rest. You heard me, or you're going to have a nice red ass to really worry about !"
He pulled the sheet up over his bare body and said nothing more.
An hour later I looked in there and he was sound asleep. Maybe he had just been tired. Almost two hours later he yelled out, "Hey, Cal, can I get up now ?"
When I went in, he was sitting nude on my bed. "Feel better now ?"
"Yea, I guess I really was just tired."
That sounded curious but I let it pass. I was working on some stuff in the kitchen.
"Go ahead, get up."
He came into the kitchen with his brief on a few minutes later. The others wandered in too. It was time for lunch. The place was buzzing with activity. After lunch we all went biking and in the midst of the rest of them, all seemed back to normal.
It was not until much later that night, when the others were planning to leave or had already left for one thing or the other after we returned from dinner at our favorite little place down the alley, that the phone rang. I had already told him he was staying in tonight and maybe he and I would take in a late movie.
All of that changed suddenly when I picked up that phone and a deep voice asked, "Are you Rual's father ?" Automatically I answered "Yes" (everyone knows me as that anyway) and then I heard crying in the background of the phone call. "That boy of yours and some of his friends took my daughter for a walk in the park last night, only instead of just walking they ganged up on her, ripped her blouse and bra and spent their time feeling her all over."
"Really ?" I was stunned. The voice continued on the phone but I was looking at Rual who was waving his hand and shaking his head: No, No, No. What could I say to the girl's father ? "I'll look into it. Thank you for calling."
By the time I put the phone down, Rual was already showing all the signs of a young man who knew exactly who had called me and why.
"I didn't do anything, Cal, really. You got to believe me. I was there, yea, but I didn't do anything at all and it wasn't my idea. I mean I never touched her. You got to believe me."
"Get into the study and wait for me there."
He went immediately. I said nothing further to him, but I sure was thinking a lot ! That have
anything to do with why his young cock responded so slowly last night when he'd come home ? Rual's
a good kid, Paolo's younger brother if you remember, just nineteen now and as
When I walked in, Rual was standing there, shuffling from one foot to another. He looked as young and naive and as scared as that first day in Rome when I met him. Some things never change. I shut the study door even though we were alone in the house and this time I locked it too. My boy needed some attention. Believe me, Rual was looking and acting real nervous, but the moment he saw my eyes look down at the leather strap there, actually an antique French martinet, he panicked and began to fall apart.
"Please, Cal, please, you got to believe me on this one. I was there, yea, but I didn't do ANYTHING. I didn't ! Really, I didn't. Please, you got to believe me. Please . . . Pleeeeese."
"No boy of mine gets messed up in anything like this. You brought this one on yourself, son. Guess I've been neglecting you. But this time you've earned yourself a good long spanking and we're going to take care of that right here." I looked over at that martinet still on the table in the room with us.
This particular martinet was an extremely old one that an elderly,
The Frenchman and I had talked about that traditional French instrument and how it could be used to apply both pleasure and pain. Sure, I was intrigued. Later that night when Andre and Rual returned from checking out the night life, I asked the Frenchman to show me how to use it on Andre. After, much later after a marvellous late meal, over Andre's objections we stripped him and in front of me, the elderly Frenchman whipped Andre, the older of the two with me, and he whipped him very, very well. Andre and his bare bottom performed beautifully under the Frenchman's guidance and manipulation. But the Frenchman also walked me through how to do it step by step, how to flick it, aim it, where and when and all the intimate details of the difference of pain, pleasure, and emotional tension. Andre might be a rather rugged farm lad, but that night it did not take him too long to be squirming and wiggling his own bare buns under the elderly Frenchman's expertise and personal care. And the Frenchman applied his old French martinet in such a way that Andre stayed hard throughout most of it ! Ultimately, though, Andre was crying loudly. Here was a very old, fine instrument of discipline that left thin red stripes that disappeared rather quickly and yet could strike terror in a boy's eyes just by threatening him with its use.
The next night, still under the elderly Frenchman's expert tutelage, I used it carefully on a young and very upset Rual. Afterwards, that martinet became his gift to me when we left. I have used it throughout the years when necessary, though I had not had occasion to use it too much recently.
But it was this Rual then standing in front of me that was just staring at it when he saw me look its way. In my mind, Rual's bare bottom was going to feel it now.
Rual somehow knew what I was thinking and responded in his own way. "OK, OK, I was wrong." He
was out of his clothes - all of them but his white brief - in minutes even while he was still
thinking. "Spank me, OK, please spank me, I know I deserve it, so please just do it . . .
just . . . please don't use that ! Pleeease. I'll do anything you want, but
pleeeeeeeese." He looked close to panic. His voice was a bit shrill and cracking. Rual, this proud
nineteen
"Come here, Rual !"
He did and this time almost collapsed in my arms when I hugged him. He was nervous and very agitated, extremely, all at the same time. Normally I would not sit down with a boy before I spanked him, but by this time Rual was becoming so upset I had to. On the couch in there Rual, sitting on my lap, poured his heart out in a huge emotional and outburst cathartic confession. He went over everything that had happened last night all over again and this time in even greater detail. I listened and held him, but I was unmoved. He talked. He talked at length. Nevertheless, I listened.
"Stand up, Rual," I finally said . . . and . . . I picked up the martinet. He had brought this on himself.
I took a firm hold on his left upper arm and started to pull him closer toward me. That small French whip was dangling from my right hand. Rual looked scared.
"Do you understand why I'm going to punish you ?" I looked directly into his already somewhat watery black eyes and forced him to focus on my face.
"Yes, Sir. I'm really sorry, Cal. Please, please just spank my ass so I can learn from you. Please, Cal, just a spanking. That's what I need. OK, OK, use my paddle, please !"
"Who decides that, Boy ?"
"Ah, yea, sure, you do. Come on I know that. I mean I haven't given you any trouble for a long time have I ?" He was certainly trying. "So, come on. Let me get over your knees and you take my whites off and spank my ass as long and hard as you want to. Come on, Cal, just give me a good one. I mean you're real good at it and 'cause I really want you to. 'Cause it's what I need too. It's all I need, really. Please, come on, you know I'm yours."
Swish. It wasn't hard or forceful in any way but instead of answering him back I swung the whip around with no force and swished it right across his white briefs. Rual jumped and started to move automatically in the opposite direction away from it. I still had a firm grip on his arm though and thus we went in a circle around each other with me still holding on firmly to his left arm.
Swish. I brought the whip to curl around his briefs another time.
"Please, Cal. OUCH ! Come on, please," Rual exclaimed with surprise. "Let me . . . aooooo . . . it stings ! It stings ! Come on. I need a break . . ."
Swish. This one, still not forceful in any way, landed low down on his briefs and the tips of the whip curled on his bare upper thigh.
". . . Ouuuuu . . . please."
Slowly but surely we were moved in that time honoured circle as the whip pushed him to move to his right and around me. Slowly but surely I was beginning to whip him across his briefs as he danced around me, and by now he was beginning to feel it.
"Ouch . . . ouch ! Hey, Cal, wait a minute let's talk. . . . ouuuuuch !" he whined. I was through talking.
I grabbed him back in my arms and pulled him close in against my own body. My hand holding the martinet was on his briefs pulling him in and letting him know the small whip was still there for him. His head was on my chest and shoulder but he was looking up at me.
"OK, OK, please. I should have told you. I should have told you everything last night," he sniffled and choked back a tear, "but I couldn't. I was too afraid. I'm sorry. I'm soooooo sorry, but, come on, give me a break, please, please, please don't punish me with that !"
"Why not ? Don't you think you've brought this on yourself ?"
"Yea, I know, I know, I really know. You have every reason to be mad at me. OK, I know you're going to punish me and you have to 'cause of what I did, but please, your hand or even my paddle, I can learn better that way. Really, I can. I mean even spank me a couple of times, it's better that way, really. I can learn. Really, I can."
Well, Rual was trying. That did not surprise me at all. In my arms he was comfortable and secure for the moment. I looked down at him and thought about what he was saying, but then I let my left hand, my free hand, cup his briefs and pat those tight firm buns. It was time to teach Rual a firm lesson on this one and help him get it all out of his system once and for all.
I took his face in my hand and looked at him directly in his big black eyes. He looked so nervous and scared at that point. His eyes were already watery, but he had also made a very big mistake last night and I needed to be sure I would never get another call like that one again. Sometimes a young man just needs a firm lesson to make sure he learns what I expect of him.
"Rual, you know I care for you . . ." I started.
"I know, I know, I've always known and you do . . ." he interrupted.
". . . but the time for talking on this one is over."
Rual's face registered shock, surprise, fear, and turned red.
"Get over the bed. Knees on the floor, chest on the bed."
"Please, no, please . . ."
The martinet switched around and landed sharply on his briefs again.
"OUUUCH !" He started crying, "Pleeeeeeeese . . ."
I landed another swing.
Rual literally ran and did what I had told him to do. He grabbed a pillow and hid his face in it. He knew what was coming. He knew it was going to hurt. Over the bed his strong bare back was ready for punishment, but it was his now prominent, white cotton covered buns that were to be my target right now.
Those briefs were skimpy, very thin cotton,
Each time I made any audible movement whatsoever in the silent room where we were alone together, those buns in their white cotton encasement moved more and more tightly in anticipation of the sting of the small French whip still in my hand. But I did not strike him. Instead I forced him to recount again and in detail exactly what had happened the previous night and why he had not told me last night.
When I was good and ready and his emotions were at a peak, I caressed his buns by letting the small whip dangle on them. All five of the whip's soft leather tails tingled over his buns and up and down his thighs. He wiggled uncontrollably, sometimes frantically rolling slightly from side to side to escape even their soft gentle touch. His buns were again clutching frequently.
I sat down on the bed beside him and without his seeing what I was doing, slipped my hand inside his briefs, deep down and calmed him some, speaking calmly and quietly. "Hold still, Rual, you know you need this, don't you ?"
"I do, OK, I do. I know I deserve it," he moaned, "I'm so sorry I let you down. I deserve your hand, I know, I really do. Sometimes I know I need your hand, but you've seemed so busy." He went on. The touch of Vaseline on my fingers made it easier for him and he settled himself down nicely hanging over the bed for his punishment.
When I finally slipped my hand back out from under his briefs, I pulled them up over his ass as tightly as possible this time. Those briefs left his ass just like I liked it. They rode high up on his two tight buns leaving his bottom fleshy cheeks and muscular thighs open and vulnerable for some attention. Rual was a marvelous young man by anyone's standards, no question about it ! He was that age when he had a beautiful tight ass, for one. But, besides that, when I spread his thighs some, the bulge in his briefs showed his cock going down between his legs and stretching the cotton for release. The boy was ready for some serious punishment.
"Ahhhhh . . ."
The first real stroke of the martinet elicited more of a moan that anything else when it landed right across his bottom, but that moan was soon to change. Rhythmically, very dependable rhythmically, I brought the fine leather whip with its five tails down across his tight briefs. He wiggled, he squirmed automatically, he had trouble keeping his legs apart, but his moaning after ten or so minutes turned to whimpers and then finally he began to cry very gently into his pillow. I had not whipped him hard at all . . . not yet.
"That a boy," I said sitting down beside him and rubbing his shoulders and ass. He reached out and took my hand and soon pulled it into the pillow too. His grip on my hand was like a steel vice, but he was holding my one hand to his lips as I was patting his bottom.
I gave him time to calm down. This time Rual said nothing. There was nothing that needed to be said. It was almost time. The CD in the room was still intoning the soft almost mystical chants of the deeply masculine voice of Isra___ somewhere over there in the Islands. The wisp of fragrance from the quietly burning jasmine was everywhere else in the room encapsulating both of us. It was actually rather calm . . . just a man spanking his boy in the most effective - and personal - way possible. A young man, now a boy again, learning his lesson, paying for his errors personally, and letting himself get back under control - just something a man learns to give his boy and a boy learns he must accept like an unpleasant medicine. It just needs to be done.
About twenty minutes later when Rual had completely calmed down and finally loosened his grip on my one hand, he felt my fingers beginning to take down his white cotton skimpy briefs.
I rolled them down slowly, exposing the redness that replaced what had been up to this point hidden from my eyes by his underwear. He automatically lifted up his hips as I began. He said nothing. Rual had already been well trained by now. When they came down exposing him from the top all the way down his bottom, the redness glimmered in the room. The French strap had made his now bare bottom very red and extremely hot to the touch even though I had yet to strike him hard. But the cotton and the way I had been whipping him had left not a single mark. The redness on his buns looked as if I had replaced his white briefs with red ones, nothing more. However, the hotness of his skin to the touch betrayed the fact that he had been disciplined.
Rual remained perfectly still as my palm and fingers travelled over him. I looked carefully to make sure Rual's bare bottom had been well spanked with that whip but nothing more. A beautiful young man does not need to be bruised, simply punished.
I took my time but was satisfied. I rested my hand flatly on his bare buns and watched him tense at the discomfort of my hand there and its touch. He yelped but only slightly. I sat there quietly with him. I was holding his ass.
Rual's cock was released when I pulled off his brief, and freed it was extended as far down the side and against the bed he was over as it could be. His balls hung openly. Pushing his thighs a bit further apart, I reached down and used my middle fingernail to run up and down the underside of his engorged and extended shaft.
All he did was squirm a bit a moment. Rual had been very well trained. He responded but only appropriately. Rual knew the consequences of anything other than that ! A boy his age never forgets, at least not that part !
Then I stood up beside him and again he tensed immediately and noticeably.
It was time.
I swung the French whip down and across his bare bottom with just enough measured force that his buns
glimmered with five small almost
Again and again, now I brought the martinet down across his bare bottom and again and again he yelled out each time it landed, wiggled his buns furiously to lessen the increasing pain, and had trouble keeping his feet and knees still and against the floor and bed. His body rolled a bit from one side to another allowing the small whip to curl around one bun after another. I used his movements to aim the tails of the small French whip to caress the soft inner parts of his buns in ways that further encouraged his movements and wiggling when, by my design, a tail or two of the whip went between his buns with just enough sting to get him really going emotionally.
Rual needed this and he had earned it.
Soon his sobs turned louder than even the pillow could muffle and ultimately his body went almost limp as he gave in, in repentance, and howled and sobbed his hurt, disappointment, and cries of "I'm sorry ! I'm sooooo sorry !"
The small whip continued over his bare bottom unaware of his pleas or promises of sorry and being perfect from now on. I had heard it all before.
At times I rested, broke the rhythm of my swings to punish him, and let the whip dangle on his buns to tantalize him further. It really worked !
Again he cried out, "I'm sorry ! I'm sooooo sorry !"
All boys say that. Rual's discipline continued until I was sure he was completely spent from his emotional crying and had understood it was never to happen again.
Thus it was that I found myself there at that moment with Rual. He hung there sobbing his eyes out and
still choking back coughs from the last outburst. He was bare, absolutely naked, his head with its now
messed up black shiny hair buried in a huge feather pillow to soften his cries when he broke down and
let it out. His hands were still gripping that pillow like a steel vice to
Under any circumstances this boy had a beautiful bottom that in tight jeans attracted attention and cried out to be bared and given some solid attention. Right now, it was as red as fire from where it had been caressed, slapped, and painted again and again with the soft leather straps from the very old French martinet which had been used to bring him up to and through his punishment. His bare buns were nice and rosy, but it was the sharp, quick, almost always unanticipated strikes of the fine leather martinet that had added the stinging pain of his punishment and left their mark.
Small, thin, almost evenly tiny red stripes were now clearly visible right across this young man's fine bare bottom.
Was it finally over ? He had to be thinking that and hoping it was.
But at that moment I stood above him, one of my knees now on the bed beside his
I took Rual across my knees on the bed to finish his discipline with the traditional spanking that would even out any redness missed and to give him the chance to be closer to me and over my own body in a way that being whipped over the side of the bed never permits. As I pulled him up, he looked into my eyes and hugged me more tightly than he had ever done before in my memory. His whole bare body was bathed in sweat from his punishment, but it was only his bare bottom that was finely striped, extremely red, and very, very hot to the touch of my hand. His face was completely wet and streaked, his eyes bloodshot and red from crying, and he was still sobbing some, though quietly. His grip around my body was so tight.
But Rual's quiet words right then spoke even more. "I promise you I'll never disappoint you again. I promise you so much. You've given me so much, taking me in and all and I thank you so much for what you just did. My ass hurts like hell but I'm so thankful you still care and you did it . . ."
Rual was still so emotional that the tightness of his hug pushed me over on my back on top of this boy. His naked body was so close to me all over that there was no place between us to even slip a piece of paper without one of us moving. Rual held me so tight and I comforted him and held him tightly as well. The hours flew past as I felt the heat radiating from his whipped bare ass beside me. I never needed to spank him that night. He never let go of me that night, nor I of him, but he clearly was exhausted now.
The next morning Rual lay over the bed for me while I went over his spanked bottom and applied the
healing balm that would take away even the thin line strap marks that the small French whip had left.
Sure he was tender down there and red all over where his briefs should be. He was so tender that he wore
just an overly long
And it probably will not surprise you to know that he has chosen to stick very close to me ever since then.
Do I recommend the French martinet ? Not unless you are positive you know how to use it respectfully. If you do know how to use it, and are sure, then it is very effective and useful. How do I know ? Rual's still here, as are the others and we are all doing very well. Rual, yes, is still subject to corporal punishment and will be for a long time to come. Do boys still need to be spanked growing up ? You be the judge, but around here there is no discussion.
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