I was becoming quite adept at learning the "system", and staying out of trouble at the academy. Sometimes, however, trouble can seem to find you. It was a Sunday, and we were allowed to play outside on the new jungle gym that some unknown benefactor had willed to the Academy. It was one of those lovely Spring days, temperature in the 70's, and a beautiful sun shining. The kind of day you wanted to go on forever. I was on the monkey bars, hanging upside down beside a kid named Baxter, who was, I think, about 11, and a girl named Susan, who was a year older than me, she was 10. We were having a good time, when Miss Ganger, one of the dorm mothers, came over and smacked Susan on the seat of her white panties as she hung there! She told her that she didn't think it was "lady like" to spend as much time hanging upside down with her panties on display as she (Susan) had been doing. As she turned to leave, it happened! The silence was broken by a loud fart! Now, this was no little sneaker, this was a loud one. Miss Ganger turned back, and wanted to know which one of us had done that. I obviously hadn't, and said so. As, unfortunatly did the other two. I kinda think it might have been Baxter, but then again, Susan had just had her butt slapped. Anyway, we were ordered down, and taken into the field house, where Ray, my dorm leader, was listening to an Indians game on the radio.
Miss Ganger explained what had happened, and she and Ray then went off into a corner to talk. At about this same time, I looked over my shoulder, and saw about twenty boys and girls gathered around the open barn doors of the field house. (Kids can "smell" when someone is going to "get it". I think it is some sort of internal radar.)
Miss Ganger and Ray came back to us, and told us that they were going to ask us one more time who had farted in Miss Ganger's face. (Boy, that was news to me, she had to be 10 feet away when it happened.) Sadly, it sounded pretty funny, farting in somebody's face, so all three of us kinda laughed. This was the wrong reaction! Miss Ganger pulled Susan toward her, turned her sideways, and smacked the seat of her dress about 6 times, all the time asking if she thought that was funny too. Obviously, Susan couldn't answer. Then, she grabbed me, and smacked me too, followed by Baxter. Now, I have been spanked a lot harder, and a lot longer, but being spanked by a woman in front of the other kids, made me sniffle.
We were again told to tell which one of us "did it". There is a sort of code among kids to never admit to anything, especially when adults are angry, so we said nothing. Ray told us to go and bend over the worktable. When I looked around, he had a ping pong paddle in his hand. He walked behing us, and gave us each 5 smacks on each cheek. They were quick smacks, kinda stingy. We were asked again to tell who did it. When nobody answered, Ray told us boys to step out of our pants, and told Susan to get out of her dress! Remember, this was in front of a bunch of kids, I estimate about 40 now were by the door, and some of the brave ones were inside the shed, not 10 feet from us. One thing I have learned the hard way, is to obey Ray when he says to do something, so I just undid my belt, opened my fly, and dropped my pants. I then stepped out of them, and handed them to Miss Ganger, who was holding out her hand. Baxter soon followed suit, as did Susan, who now stood dressed only in her white panties and shoes and socks. Ray seemed to notice that, and told us boys to "lose our shirts and undershirts". The crowd was really warming up to this display, I could see them staring, and whispering in each other's ears. Ray had us bend over again, and Miss Ganger whacked our butts with the ping pong paddle. She just hit me on my right cheek. I don't know why, but I can guarantee that 10 strokes on one cheek, in the same spot, hurts!!
Silence greeted "the question", and, as we should have expected, we were told to remove our underwear. This REALLY impressed the other kids, as we slowly bent over and took off our last bit of cover, standing as naked as when we were born, except that we all had on shoes and socks! Baxter, being older, had a lot bigger penis than I did. (Isn't it strange how such thoughts go through your mind, when you should be thinking about your poor butt?) His balls were really hanging down low too, making him look about 10 times bigger than me. At least mine wasn't as skinny as his. He wasn't circumcised, and I could see his pink tip sticking out some. A quick glance at Susan confirmed my previous suspicions about girls, they really do all look alike "down there", although I could see some blonde little hair near her "thing". I guess it was these observations of my fellow sufferers that caused my little fellow to decide to come alive, and I realized to my dismay that I quickly had an erection. My little fellow's pink head looked up at me as he grew to his straight, stiff, hairless 4 inches. I was mortified! I knew better than to try to hide myself, because it always caused you to get extra strokes.
We were once again told to bend over the table, and once again received ten strokes from Miss Ganger. Again, she only hit on one side of my butt. Tears were now running down my face, and a quick glance confirmed that the same thing was happening to the others. I really wanted to rub my butt, but knew that such actions would only lead to more problems. Again, we were asked the question, and again, no one answered.
We were made to turn around and face the other kids, as Christopher, a kid from my dorm, came running in carrying Ray's strap! We were told to turn around again. Baxter was told to bend over the table, and I saw his butt for the first time. He also had been hit only on one cheek. His right butt cheek was bright red, and the other was pale white. Ray soon corrected that, with 11 strokes from his strap. He did his favorite thing, and landed them low, along the crease between your butt and thigh. Baxter was screaming by the 5th stroke, and I found myself grabbing and rubbing my butt cheeks, which nobody seemed to notice, as I caught myself, and brought my hands to my side. I looked at Susan, and she too had her hands on her butt. I caught her eye, and smacked my hands to my side. She caught the drift, and moved her hands. She gave me a teary eyed half smile as a sobbing Baxter stood. His butt was a dark red, and you could see welt marks that were just now raising up.
Ray then motioned to me with his strap, and I went and laid across the table, my butt on display for all to see. Ray told me to spread my legs a bit, empasising his words with a gentle smack of the strap inside my thighs. I quickly moved my legs apart, and felt the strap caress the inside of my thighs again. I felt it touch my bag, and gave an involuntary shiver. Ray stepped back and I waited his first stroke. Unlike Baxter's spanking, he seemed to want to tease me, rubbing the strap down my crack, and gently across my cheeks. Suddenly, pure fire hit my butt. It was as if a live electric wire was laid on my cheeks, right at the crease mark where Baxter had received his. Ray followed with an additional stroke, every 30 seconds or so, until I had received all 9. I was crying so much that I was hiccupping with exery breath. He told me to get up, and I did so. I felt a red hot line on my butt, and cried and cried.
Susan was now pushed over the table, and received 11 strokes right in the same spot. You could see her try to stay put, as her butt cheeks wiggled with every stroke. Her butt too, ended up a dark red, with some slight dark marks. I could only imagine what mine looked like. I noticed that there was a hush over the crowd of kids. The only sounds were our heavy breathing, and sobs.
We were told that we would be given 2 minutes to tell who had farted. If we did not do so, we were told that we may never want to fart again. I thought that was a strange thing to say. Of course, we said nothing. Ray cleared off the table, and had Baxter sit on it. You should have heard his scream as he sat on the hard wooden table, right on top of his strap welts! He was then told to lay back. He kind of made a mewing sound, as he laid down. I think he had some idea of what was going to happen, although I sure didn't know. Ray had him lift his legs up, and grab his ankles. He then pulled Baxter's legs apart, and pushed them back toward his head. This position totally exposed him to everyone there. His brown boyhole was clearly visible, as his cheeks were stretched further apart. Ray pushed Baxter's bag back, away from his hole, and forced Baxter's legs further apart. He lay there, as I observed a butt hole at close sight. It was impossible for him to clench, although he kept trying, as evidenced by his balls kind of sucking down. With a warning to not move an inch, Ray stood back, and, holding the strap behind his back, drew a bead on his target, and struck!
At first, there was no reaction from Baxter, then he screamed, and screamed, as his butt moved side to side, and he tried desperately to relieve the pain in his anus by thrusting it in and out. It was quite a site, and I don't think I shall ever forget it. Ten more times the strap landed, and ten more times Baxter screamed, and moved around. Unlike normal strappings, when you finally just lay there and "take it", Baxter never slowed down. The whole inside area of his butt crack was bright red, and his anus was now a ruby red color, no longer brown! He was told to get down, but had a really hard time, as he really couldn't seem to close his butt cheeks together. He finally rolled over, and got off of the table. He bent over from the waist, and, oblivious to the many eyes upon him, he rubbed his hand up and down his crack, over his hole. He did this over and over.
I was interuppted in my observations by Ray pointing to me, and then to the desk. My butt was still on fire, and I too, screamed as I sat on the edge of the desk. Slowly, I leaned back. When I looked down my stomach, I could see my penis was no longer stiff. Fear had caused it to constrict to the point that I could only see it's little pink head and hole, surrounded by my bag. I could also see the faces of the other kids, Miss Ganger, Ray, and Susan, as they all stared at me. I was so embarassed that they could all see me like this, and so very, very frightened at what was going to happen to me. I lifted my legs up, and then back. I grabbed my ankles, and pulled my legs back, and apart, thus both lifting, and separating my butt cheeks, and exposing my hole for Ray. I realized that my balls were darn close to the target aret, so I reached up with one hand, and moved them back out of the way. Ray smacked them lightly with his strap, and told me to keep my hands on my ankles. Oh did that hurt! I remember pulling on my legs in pain, and apparently that was what Ray was looking for, as he let fly with my first stroke. I tried to clench just as he hit, and ended up holding that dreaded strap for a nano-second, as it visited my little hole. I couldn't keep it from hitting, nor could I keep it from leaving, but my clenching did allow it to kiss the inside of my crack, as well as my hole. My automatic response was to unclench, and push my butt hole as far out as possible, all the while screaming in pain, as the next stroke hit on my now wide open boy hole. I could no longer even attempt to squeeze, due to the terrible burning pain. I was forced to just hold my butt open for the next strokes. I don't remember counting them. Somewhere near the end, however, one stroke hit high, in the area between my hole and my scrotum. I think it is called your peritineum. Let me tell you, if you ever want to feel pain, strap yourself there. I screamed, and started the same roll that Baxter did. Finally, it ended, and I found myself staring at my no longer private parts as searing pain raced from my butt cheeks, crack, and especially my anus, which was simply on fire! I could not sit up, but had to roll off of the table. And, like Baxter, I could only bend over, and rub my butt hole, right there in front of everyone.
Susan was sobbing`and shaking, as she climbed up on the table. As she slowly lifted and seperated her legs, exposing things that we boys could only imagine, I felt terrible sympathy for her, as her girl thing seemed to be right next to her butt hole. Ray had to have her adjust herself several times, before he laid into her. His strap seemed to find an easier route than with Baxter, as it smacked down into her butt crack. She thrust forward, and split apart even more, as the strap visited her again, and again. Her whole butt hole area was a bright red, and with the red-blue horizontal stripes on her cheeks, gave an erie look of just pure pain. Unlike us boys, she seemed to get the most pain relif by pulling apart, and thrusting out, almost reaching for the strap. At number ten, it happened. A noise, which could only be an involuntary response to terrible pain, escaped her butt hole! Ray took the strap in both hands, and let fly with the worst stroke of the day. Fortunately, it was her las stroke. A sobbing, shaking Susan did what we all did, edged off the table, and ran her hand up and down her butt crack.
We were told to get dressed, and go to our beds for the rest of the day. I couldn't stand the pain from my underwear, and looked forwar to getting into my nigtshirt. I noticed Susan just pull her dress over her head, and walk away with her panties balled up in her hand.
It took two weeks for the marks to go away. The kids who watched me get it were in awe. Everybody figured Susan was the guilty party, but I am not so sure that her farting under extreem punishment was not just an invountary reaction!