The Biguns came to our village a couple of years ago and Ivor was a very interesting young man. He was a very chatty fellow and he certainly lived up to his name. He claimed to have a very big one and I can verify this. It was at least nine inches long and very thick and he did not mind if I felt it and cupped it in my hand.
I had to agree that it was definitely the biggest onion I had ever seen. You see Ivor was a very keen gardener and liked to enter his vegetables in various shows and every now and then he won an occasional prize. He was very fond of his carrots and turnips and he found the most unusual places to put them.
Father Bigun was a large man and he kept a tight rein on young Ivor and even though Ivor had turned eighteen Pop Bigun was quite capable of putting Ivor over his knee and spanking his bare bottom. Ivor told me the following story. When he was a mere six year old he had rushed in from the garden and quite out of breath he managed to gasp to his father, "Dad, there is a dead cat in the garden!"
Father Bigun took his pipe out of his mouth and enquired, "How do you know he is dead?"
"Well, I pissed over it and it did not move," replied the young child.
Father Bigun was not going to tolerate such language in his house and before you could say Jack Robinson young Ivor was over his dads knee, trousers and pants down and a very pale bottom soon became a very red one. Young Ivor howled his eyes out. He could not understand what he had done wrong. As soon as his father released him young Ivor rushed to his mother sobbing his eyes out. Mrs Bigun also lived up to her name as she was a very large buxom lady (known in the village as Two biguns – but not to her face!) Mummy wanted to know why her little Ivor was crying and Ivor told her that there was a dead cat in the garden. Mummy wanted to know how he knew it was dead and he replied that he had gone up to the cat and said pssst in its ear and it had not moved........
I digress. One day father and son were working in their large garden and Ivor had left his garden tools all over the place. Mr Bigun warned his son that there was going to be accident if he did not keep his hoe and his rake and his spade neatly together in the garden shed. The inevitable happened and when father was carrying a pile of stuff for the compost heap the poor man tripped over the rake and fell very awkwardly. In fact he hurt his arm badly and they telephoned me to drive him over to the local hospital. After an X Ray it was confirmed that he had indeed broken his arm and it was to be in plaster for quite a few weeks. Poor Mr Bigun was fuming but he could hardly physically punish his son with his arm in plaster. He turned to me and said, "You were a Headmaster. I want you to cane young Ivor and give him a thrashing that he will remember."
To tell the truth I had often watched young Ivor beavering away in his garden and I could not help but admire the young mans physique. Now that I was being asked to see to him in quite a different way I looked at him afresh and decided it would be quite a pleasure. I told Mr Bigun to send his son over to my cottage that evening at seven oclock and I promised to deal with him in an old fashioned but very effective way.
At seven oclock on the dot there was a tap on my front door and there indeed was the young man in question. He was dressed very smartly. He had a clean white open-necked shirt and pale blue trousers and his black shoes had been highly polished. "May I come in, sir?" he asked in a very soft and rather hesitant voice.
"Come into my lounge and stand in front of me," I ordered and he obeyed. "You know why you are here?" I asked.
"You are going to punish me," he replied and looked very crestfallen.
"Quite right," I said, "we shall start with a nice spanking and work our way up to harder punishment." He went a shade paler at the thought of harder punishment but never budged. "Put yourself over my knee," I ordered, and he immediately bent himself over my knee so that his trousered bottom was just in the right position. His pale blue trousers tightened around his buttocks so that I was able to put my left hand gently on his back and my right hand felt the smoothness of the two halves of his backside and slowly but surely I began to spank first one side and then the other. It was not all that hard to start with but I soon reached for a wooden paddle that I had surreptitiously hidden nearby and when I began spanking him with this instrument he wriggled and twitched but made no sound.
"Right. Up you get," I commanded and I think he thought that was it "Now get undressed." He hesitated for a brief moment but then removed his shirt and then his shoes and socks. Finally he lowered his trousers and took them off. He was now standing in just his underpants but I signalled for them to be removed as well. He was completely naked and I could enjoy the sight of his perfectly formed body. He was well endowed and I knew I would be dreaming about this young man for many a night to come.
I motioned for him to go back over my knee and I gently fondled the beautiful two halves of his buttocks. They were still quite pale in colour but I took up the paddle and soon they were a nice tinge of red. I increased the strength of the blows and not only did he now wriggle but each blow brought an Ouch! or an Ow! Still he made no effort to get up and I continued to whack each side of his bottom in turn. Once I was satisfied that he had had a fair dose of the paddle I decided it was time I introduced him to the cane. I got him up and ordered him to bend down and grab his ankles. I insisted that his legs were to be kept straight and he was not allowed to move from this position until I had given him permission to do so. I went to a drawer from which I extracted a nice three-foot cane and holding it by the curved handle I let it rest squarely in the middle of his bottom. I tapped him once or twice and then brought the cane down hard so that immediately a nice thin red line appeared and he let out a yelp as the first stinging pain seared across him. Whack! A second time and a second red line appeared. He really was desperate to get up but he was strong willed and remained in position. The third whack and then the fourth and the fifth and finally the traditional sixth. He had taken it well and I ordered him up.
"Thank you, sir" he said, " I deserved that."
He then returned home and his father telephoned me and thanked me for doing what he could not do. It was not the last time I punished the lad because whenever young Ivor did something that his mother or father thought needed punishment they would send him round to me to deal with and I was more than happy to oblige. The odd thing is that years later when I met up with Ivor he told me that he actually enjoyed coming round for his spanking and caning. In fact he now went regularly to guys he met on the internet to have repeat sessions. Strange, isnt it?