"Mummy, do I have to go to Uncle David's? He's so strict!"
"You do. You don't see enough of him. And now you're 13, I've told him he can be even stricter. You're getting out of hand, my boy. I've told him he can do just exactly what he likes with you. No more spanks on the seat of your shorts. If he wants to take your clothes off to punish you, he can."
"Oh mum, that would be so embarrassing!" Paul shifted from one foot to another in mortification at the very thought.
"Well, maybe some embarrassment is what you need to make you mend your ways. Your uncle and I used to be absolutely humiliated..."
"That's the old days, mum."
"Well at least we behaved then. I'm getting to the point where I can't cope with you at home. Do you want to be sent away somewhere?"
"No mum!"
"Well, go to Uncle David, do what he says, and, if you are punished, don't run back to me or anyone else for that matter, with lurid tales. Just take your medicine."
David decreed that Paul should travel to him in school uniform. So it was that Paul was met at the station, wearing his black long trousers, purple blazer, white shirt and tie, and black shoes with grey socks.
An attractive boy, David thought. Black hair, smooth brown skin, brown eyes, tall for 13 but not rangey. In need of some discipline.
Back at his home, David let Paul hang up his blazer, cooked him lunch, and set him the task of washing-up, giving clear instructions about how it was to be done. Paul was not a very organised person and messed it up. "Oh dear," David sad mildly, "it will be noted in the book." He took out a small notebook from his pocket and made a note.
This phrase, "noted in the book", often recurred in the next three days and Paul became more and more curious about its significance. Eventually, he asked.
"Thursday," David said, "is punishment day, when I will total up all your errors and decide how to deal with you."
Thursday was the day after next. Paul started to feel apprehensive.
On Wednesday morning, he was woken by his uncle. David had on him a white vest, white Y-fronts, white socks and white canvas shoes. "You wear these today," he said, "and nothing else."
"Why's that uncle?"
"Because tomorrow is punishment day and you might as well get used to feeling embarrassed."
So all day, helping in the house, working in the garden, eating meals, watching TV, Paul was in his underwear, giving his uncle an enjoyable experience. What a nicely rounded bottom he had!
Paul was again woken by David on Thursday. David had clean underwear again, the same type, but this time he also had a grey school shirt and tie, grey school shorts, and brown socks and sandals.
It was a while since Paul had worn school shorts. He felt strange in them. David thought he looked wonderful - his long legs so smooth, his bottom so well accentuated - they were quite short shorts, so there was plenty of thigh on display.
After breakfast, David took him out to his car and they drove off. Eventually they arrived at gates, where there was a sign, "Coldings School". They drove up the drive and parked at the front. Being holidays there were no boys to be seen.
David led him down a corridor to an oak door marked "Headmaster", knocked and led him in.
Behind the desk was the Headmaster, Mr Taylor, an imposing, balding, moustachio'd man in his late 40's wearing a smart business suit. "Ah good," he said, "sit down. I'll just lock the front door to strangers and check the back one is available."
He returned, put on the lights and drew the heavy curtains.
"Now..." he said.
"This is Paul," David said. "We discussed his punishment on the phone..."
"We did, yes," Taylor said, smiling sadistically. "Well, let's commence. Paul, you know you are to be punished and your mother has given permission for you to be dealt with in any way we see fit, including undressing you and causing you embarrassments of every kind?"
Paul wanted to argue, but saw no way out. "Yes Sir."
"Very well, I think I will start by examining the shape and muscularity of your bottom. Bend over the side of my desk here."
Taylor arranged him with legs astride and hands outstretched over the desk and beckoned David to stand with him behind Paul's bottom. He reached out and felt Paul over the tight fabric of his shorts. He ran his hand all over Paul's young buttocks and traced the line of the legs of his Y-fronts. "What sort of underpants are these?"
"Y-fronts, Sir."
"Are these what you normally wear at home?"
"No Sir, I wear boxer shorts."
"Ah yes, a more modern fashion. What colour are your Y-fronts?" Taylor's hand went up under Paul's trouser leg at the back onto the surface of his Y's.
"White Sir."
"Most appropriate. David, come and feel his buttocks. On a scale of firmness of 1-5, five very firm, how would you rate him?"
David came to join the exploration. "Four, I guess," he said hesitantly.
"I think he could even be five, but our uncertainly does suggest the need for more intimate examination. Shall we have his shorts down?"
"A good idea," David said.
"Stand up young man", Taylor said "and face me and your uncle. May I do the honours, David?"
"Certainly," David said.
"Paul, I am going to take down your shorts now, so we can take a better look at your bottom in order to assess how best to punish it. You understand?"
Paul nodded uncomfortably. Taylor sat and beckoned Paul to stand close. He undid Paul's belt and top button, before unzipping his fly and easing his shorts down to his ankles. "Step out of them and give them to your uncle."
Paul did this.
"Now bend back over my desk, like you did before."
Paul bent. Taylor carefully lifted his shirt and folded it back, then pulled Paul's vest out of his pants and folded that back too. His cupped the centre of Paul's bottom with his hand on the soft white cotton. "Ah yes," he said, pressing with his fingers and then beginning to move around Paul's bottom, locating his cleft and squeezing alternate buttocks. "I still think it may be five. What do you think, David?"
David joined him and they started squeezing together, at one point each taking a buttock and pulling his buttocks a little way apart. "I might stick with four," David said.
"Well, there's also skin tone to take into account as well as muscularity," Taylor said. "It should be about time to take him down to the medical room. Paul, we are taking you to the medical room for a more detailed and intimate examination. You will not need your shorts. Come."
Feeling very peculiar in shirt, tie, socks, sandals, vest, underpants, but no trousers, but glad for the length of his shirt, David followed the two men along several corridors to a white door, which was partially ajar. "Ah, I see our colleagues have arrived. Good," Taylor said.
Inside the medical room, seated on chairs, were two men, smartly dressed. They were probably in their fifties, introduced as Mr Smith and Mr Hannam. "These gentlemen have come to witness and assist at your examination, Paul." Taylor explained.
The medical room had a stone-tiled floor, a white porcelain sink, a long freestanding mirror, a sight chart, various types of light, an examination couch, some cupboards and some stools and chairs and a screen.
"Stand in front of the examination couch and face us all," Taylor ordered.
Feeling rather silly, Paul did so.
"In order to examine you ready for your spanking, we now have to undress you," Taylor said. "Take off your sandals, please and put them under the couch neatly.
Paul bent to unbuckle his brown sandals and slipped his feet out of them, before carefully placing them under the couch. Now he was in grey short socks on the cool stone floor.
"Remove your tie and place it over the screen."
Paul undid the school tie and placed it over the screen.
"Undo your shirt buttons, all of them."
Paul complied, his white vest showing beneath. Now take off your shirt and bring it over to your uncle."
Paul removed his grey shirt and padded over to hand it to his uncle before returning to stand in front of the examining couch. His vest was out of his underpants and covering much of the front of them.
"Take off your vest and put it over the top of the screen."
He did this and stood there, facing them, in only underpants and grey socks. One of the witnesses took out a camera and took a flash photo.
"Turn round so we can see your bottom."
Paul did this. There was another flash. Front and back, he was firm and smooth.
"Bend forward over the couch, your legs spread as you did over my desk."
Paul did as he was told, very conscious of his loss of privacy as his arse was displayed, its cheeks spread inside his underpants.
"Now gentlemen," Taylor said to the two visitors, "Go and feel Paul's bottom through his underpants and tell me where he is on a scale of 1-5."
The two men rather roughly kneaded Paul's bottom. Both said they thought it was 4 and returned to their seats. Paul was beginning to feel rather mauled about.
"Right, stand back a moment, Paul. We're going to move the couch into the centre of the room."
The men shifted the couch.
"Now climb up onto it and lie on your back."
Paul lay on the couch,, his head propped up by a pillow. The men sat round on high stools so they were looking down on him. Paul felt very vulnerable.
"As you can see, gentlemen," Taylor said, our 'victim' is a solidly constructed 13 year old schoolboy. Feel the musculature of his thighs, the firmness of his pectorals, the solidity of his abdomen."
The men started to squeeze his thighs, feel his tits, stroke his stomach. He was terribly embarrassed and tried to look straight at the ceiling.
"Now," Taylor said, when the men had had their fill, "you will observe that two parts of our victim remain covered - his feet and his genitalia. His feet, we can quickly deal with" - he reached over and took off Paul's socks, but the area concealed beneath these underpants.." he tweaked the waistband of Paul's undies, "is more private and will be considerably more embarrassing to our young schoolboy.
"Of course," Taylor said, "some sense can be gained of what is there - and in that sense Paul is already on display. Here, for example, feel his scrotum." Paul jumped nervously as Taylor stroked the bulge at the base of his crutch. The other men followed suit.
Paul felt very strange now. There was the beginning of an excitement, alongside massive fear.
"Similarly, it is not difficult to detect our schoolboy's currently detumescent prick." He squeezed Paul's dickhead gently and tickled it with one finger. "Just each stroke over it softly gentemen, say, five times each, and watch the effect."
The men followed his instructions and Paul's dick began to press upward in his pants.
"It is always embarrassing for a young schoolboy to be stripped bare in front of strangers, but I do have to strip Paul now. I find this is best done slowly..." He folded the Y-fronts waistband down a little, then told Paul to lift his hips.
Despite himself, having softened, Paul was going very hard again. He lifted his hips and Taylor pulled down his underpants so they were just snagged on his dick.
"Lie down again."
Paul lay back. Taylor lifted the waitband and put it back down at the base of Paul's hard young prick. "Very pleasant," Taylor said, "we'll soon have our little schoolboy bollocks naked." He reached his hand between Paul's legs and pulled the base of his underpants hard, downwards, until they were at his knees, his dick up in the air, then he pulled them right off. Paal had a very limited but sweet little pubic bush, with no hair yet on his dick or balls.
"I don't think we need this hair," he said, taking some scissors and a razor down. He swiftly cut off the few strands and completed the job using the razor dry.
"Of course," Taylor said, "we embarrass the boy by displaying his prick and balls, but our primary objective is other. Turn over on your stomach, Paul."
Momentarily relieved, Paul turned over.
"Gentlemen, here is our schoolboy's bare bottom." He laid his palm on Paul's lower back and stroked. "Bottoms are wonderful for spanking but they can also be unhygienic, so we are going to wash Paul's bottom now. Stand off the couch, Paul."
Paul slid off the couch. Taylor positioned a large towel on top of it.
"Now climb back on the couch at this bottom end, kneel with your hands on the couch, spread your knees and put your head down and your arse up. That's good. You gentlemen may want to cluster to the back of the couch."
Taylor went to the sink and filled a bowl with warm water, taking this to the couch and placing it between Paul's legs. He picked up a flannel and a bar of soap, wet the flannel, rubbed soap on it and proceded to soap Paul's buttocks, and downwards into his cleft. Then he rinsed the same area.
"It is also prudent," he said, "to soap the anus just a little." Soaping his hands, he started to rub his soapy finger against Paul's tight young sphincter. "Perhaps two of you could help here by keeping his buttocks as far apart as possible." Paul felt his buttocks being stretched tight, as the soapy finger went on probing and, suddenly, slid right up inside him, causing him to fart a little, to his utter shame.
"It feels quite clean inside here," Taylor said. "Perhaps each of you would like to try." The men took it in turns to give Paul a soapy finger _f_u_c_k_, by the end of which his anus was quite red and distended. "Good," Taylor said, drying Paul's arsehole and buttocks, "I think we are ready to move toward his punishment. Come off the couch, Paul, and put on your vest, socks and sandals."
Stunned by everything that was happening, Paul did as he was bidden. Taylor led the entourage down the corridor then up two flights of stairs to a small attic room, which he unlocked, ushering people in.
It was like a large box room, with most of the items stored there covered in sheets. The room was on two levels, separated by long steps. Taylor seated his guests on chairs on the upper level and led Paul to the lower level where another item was covered in a sheet, which he now removed. It was a large and perhaps unique leather-topped stool, its top surface being three foot in one direction and perhaps two in the other. It had a system for adjusting height and two stirrups set a little way apart.
"Take off your sandals and bend over this with your feet in the stirrups," Taylor ordered. He secured Paul's wrists on the other side of the stool, then wedged a pillow under his genitals to push his arse outward and avoid his penis chafing when he was punished. Then he turned up Paul's vest to reveal his spread buttocks and positioned a device behind him which shone light between his arsecheeks and projected a sharp and colurful image of his inner cheeks and anus onto a white wall, where Paul himself could see it.
"Now, who will spank first? he asked.
One of the witnesses nodded and came up to administer many spanks. Then they took it in turn, until Paul was howling and writhing around, his arse deep red and inflamed.
Not a punishment to forget.
***