Bendid


by Valerian Principalis <Auto192264@hushmail.com>

Here in Europe, I think we've got it wrong on physical punishment for boys at least. On the whole, for most boys, the alternatives are worse, either emotional abuse, or just not enough control. So then they end up in law trouble, even locked up. No wonder there's so much bad behaviour in school and society.

Then there's all the embarrassment and fear in parents about spanking bare now. But actually spanking bare is less likely to damage a boy's bottom and, because you're also inflicting a measure of embarrassment, you don't need to be just quite so severe in the thrashing.

Until some years ago, I supplemented my teacher's income with private tuition. This is the story of the last time a parent asked for CP to be incorporated into tuition.

It started strangely. A man telephoned and having checked I was a tutor, asked for my views on discipline. Then he asked, what did I think of bare or naked spanking, saying he had a boy of thirteen.

As you can imagine, I was a little cautious to a complete stranger, but it ended up with him deciding to bring Ben round.

So, one evening they pitched up at my house and I interviewed them in my big kitchen, the one I had then anyway, round the kitchen table.

Ben was in his school uniform and, although his dad described a very mischievous son, he looked, if not angelic, quite cute. He was small for thirteen, height-wise, had light brown curly hair, blue eyes, a fair freckly complexion and quite a muscular little body.

"How do you punish him?" I eventually asked.

"I ground him. I have caned him also."

"The cane was effective?"

"Only briefly."

"You caned him over his trousers?"

"Yes."

"That may have been the mistake. Boys at Ben's age are more likely to be deterred if they are undressed for their punishment. It embarrasses them."

"I've thought of it, but I've never quite got my head into how to go about it. Perhaps you could show me by spanking Ben in front of me?"

"Dad!" Ben said plaintively, shifting uncomfortably on the bench, perhaps imagining his bottom being bared and addressed.

"Well, you've gone too far, recently," his dad said.

"I don't think I'd want to spank Ben undressed or spank him at all until I've been teaching him and he's actually done something wrong for me. But if that happens, of course you can watch."

Ben looked a little relieved at this, perhaps having the eternal optimism of the young that this time he would be good.

His father agreed that was for the best.

So began my association with Ben, who, at first was a likeable if shy model pupil. But of course he couldn't keep that going forever. And the time came when he started to slack on homework. I warned him of the risk that his clothes might one day be removed in embarrassing circumstances, he wriggled around once more, homework improved, but then it deteriorated. At first I did nothing, so he could make no complaint when I acted. Perhaps he thought I was not going to keep the threat. Until the day came when his father arrived to collect him and I announced he was to be punished and why.

He couldn't complain. You could see he wanted to complain, but he couldn't. He was totally in the wrong.

We were round the kitchen table again, he was in school uniform again. I had him stand and remove his black leather shoes, then come and stand by my chair at the head of the table, between his father and me.

"Take off your school tie, Ben."

He unknotted his red and black striped tie, putting it on the table.

I pulled him a little closer and undid the buttons of his grey shirt to his waistline.

I tugged his shirt from his black long trousers and completed the unbuttoning. He wore a white cotton singlet beneath.

I requested Ben's father to remove his shirt from behind. He did this, laying the shirt over the table.

Ben's ears were beginning to go pink and, at close quarters as I was in the warm kitchen, there was a sweet smell of sweat. He was shifting uneasily from one foot to the other from time to time.

I took the waist of his trousers and undid his black leather belt. He looked down anxiously.

I undid his top clip and button. He couldn't look at me.

I unzipped his trousers and pulled the fly wide to reveal his white cotton briefs.

I nodded to his father who dropped Ben's trousers to his ankles from behind. Ben gasped audibly.

"Take them off please," I requested.

Perhaps a little to my surprise, Ben meekly complied, placing the trousers over his shirt on the table.

Ben returned to face me.

"Clasp your hands on your head."

Ben did so.

I had kept conversation and comments to a minimum, in order to heighten Ben's anxiety. I looked at him. "Is there anything you want to say before you are completely undressed and naked?"

Ben looked at me woefully. Perhaps he was thinking of appealing to my or his father's better nature. But he didn't. He just shook his head.

I sat forward, grasping the waistband of his underpants on each side, and took them down to just above his knees.

Ben's vest covered his genitals except the very tip of his penis.

I asked his father to pull off his vest.

He did.

I told Ben to clasp his hands on his head again.

He did.

From the front, I could see Ben's hairless but well developed circumcised penis. From the back, no doubt his father could see his son's bottom.

"Take off your underpants and socks, Ben," I said, injecting a coolness into my voice."

Ben stripped naked.

"Turn to face your father, hands on head."

Ben did. His bottom was smooth, round and solid, his face, neck and upper chest bright red.

"Apologise to him."

"I'm sorry, dad," he almost whispered.

"Very well." I moved my chair back from the table end. "Come to this end of the table and face the table."

Ben did.

"Right up against the table. Yes. Now spread your feet so they are just inside the table legs and bend forward."

He did this, spreading his cheeks.

"Grasp the table on each side with your hands and lay your head to one side. Good."

I asked his father to hold him in place by pressure on his back if needed. His father stood to do so.

I took out a broad leather strap from a kitchen cupboard, doubled it over, and strapped him slowly but hard until his bottom was uniformly red, he was in tears, and asking forgiveness.

His father took over his punishment, doing it at home from then on. Ben and I remained good friends for some time and his behaviour improved out of all recognition.

I only lament that parents and sons no longer seek such correction.


More stories by Valerian Principalis