Showing posts with label Spanking. Show all posts

24/12/2024

Christmas Wish

Dear Santa!

I hope you’re doing well! This year I have only one Christmas wish. Please make my Dad stop spanking me with his old havy leather belt. I'm now grown up boy. It hurts as hell. Please take care of my butt.

Thank you, Santa!

Sincerely,
Tom

13/12/2024

Slave's Fate XII

Specjal report: SPANK IT

06/09/2024

Excuses

Jonas always tried to avoid the punishment and never succeeded.

13/06/2023

Home treatment

01/04/2023

April 1

Andy heard the belt withdrawn from uncle's waist, the sound of leather and metal slicing through the air. He knew it was time to bend over and wait for the punishment.

- Time for your punishment spanking. I’ll go easy on you today. You can keep your pants on.

- Thanks, Mr. O’Brien.

- Ha ha ha, April Fool! Strip and assume the position!

The beating was even harder, and more merciless than usual...

25/12/2022

Wonderful Christmas time

24/12/2022

Santa knows best

30/09/2022

Forgotten Barn - part III

Reins story

<Previous part - Forgotten Barn - part II>

"Our master passionately loved harsh discipline, hard labour, public nudity, and especially corporal punishment. He punished his farmworkers in many exotic ways. He loved to feast his eyes on their strong broad backs and naked asses. And when that ass or back was nicely reddened, he was in heaven!”

“Oh, this is my idea of heaven as well,” said Cane. “You won’t believe what I have experienced with our master. I can’t count how many times he tied up thieves, farmworkers, and army cadets and forced them to bend over. That’s when I came into action. There were many screams, moans, and cries when I was doing my work. They all got what they deserved. The Master spared no one. Some boys wept after only the third stroke. Others pretended to be brave and tough, but in the end they all begged for mercy. I don't remember any young man whom I couldn't break. Whether their asses were hairy and muscular or smooth and firm, they all faced the same fate… Me!”

“So true,” Reins chimed in from his place hanging on the wall. “The Master would also use me from time to time, and when we got to work, the sound of lashes on the bare buttocks and back echoed all over the village. So many times the Master unhooked us from the bridle and swung us neatly over a lifted ass. In addition to the crack of leather, there were often suppressed moans and sometimes even crying as we slashed across a sorry lad’s tight skin again and again. We left beautiful red stripes from the back to the thighs. You should see young Sam, son of a leatherworker from the village”.

“I know the lad,” said Cane. "I wish I could have given the arrogant young man a lesson in manners. What did he do this time?” Cane asked, a little saddened that she wasn’t the only one punishing boys so effectively. She never thought that Whip and Reins had such a significant role in training naughty farm rednecks. She used to believe that she was unique.

“He robbed our farmer,” Reins revealed.

“Wow!” exclaimed Cane. “The punishment for robbery is one of the worst! I could feel how angry our Lord was while he used me once before on a thief’s buttocks. That caning seemed to go on forever!” Cane warmed with the memory.

Reins made a small noise of agreement and continued their story. “We were traveling along the dirt road with the hayrack wagon. Suddenly, the Master pulls us up sharply to stop the horses and dashes into the orchard. After a while, he emerged from the trees dragging Sam by the ear. He brought him over to the carriage and told him to strip. The Lord bound his wrist and tossed the other end of the rope over a branch so high that the thief had to stand on his toes. He released us from the bridle and then used us to whip him properly on the back and butt.”

“How much did he get?” asked the whip with obvious interest.

“We do not know,” replied Reins. “About a hundred and fifty lashes or more; We lost count. Before the punishment was even halfway through the writhing boy pleaded with our Master to stop. He was crying like a child and pulling himself up trying to escape from our punishment. But Lord just continued whipping him making him scream and twist his bound body against the rope."

“Master really hates thievery,” agreed Cane. “I can just imagine how much energy he put into the punishment.”

“Absolutely right,” said Reins. “It was intense! And when it was all over, the young man was left dangling from the tree. The master told him that his red ass and wounded body would be an excellent example for others. That’s how Sam ended up."

“Oh! That wasn’t the end of his torment,” exclaimed Cane excitedly. “Before his father came and took him down, all workers on their way to the mill saw his naked body hanging vulnerable and broken. The old leatherworker even gave him a few more smacks for good measure when he got him home. I know because I was visiting his workshop with our Master and I heard the conversation.”

“Oh Sam. What am I going to do with you?” Cane imitated a tearful leatherworker’s voice.

Then, mimicking the Lord’s voice, Cane cried, “Spank the young brat and keep spanking him. It’s the only way!”

“Our Master then gave his friend some ideas for using the various leather implements lying around the shop to discipline the boy. The old leatherworker called the boy over and ordered him to strip again.”

“Bend over and grab your ankles, boy!”

“Trembling, Sam did as he was told,” continued Cane. “I got really excited seeing his exposed red buttocks, but I didn’t get to touch them. Together, our Master and his friend tested several leather implements on his raw cheeks. With every hit, the boy jumped and cried, ‘Please, Daddy, no more!’ Wanting to impress the Lord, the father ignored his son’s pleas and continued to punish him harshly. With an evil glint in his eyes, Master asked Sam which tool he would most like to avoid. The stupid boy picked up the tawse. It was the implement that hurt the most. Master said ‘From now on, this will be your nemesis.’ He nodded at the old man who spanked him with it until the boy was fully in tears.” Cane paused, savoring the memory.

“Tawse later boasted that after his performances Sam could not sit down. And I believe it’s true. Tawse is a very talented tool. But of course nowhere near as effective as I!” boasted Cane.

“The boy should be glad that he wasn't dealing with me!” said the whip. “If I had given him as many lashes as you, Reins, he wouldn’t have been able to crawl home.”

“We all have our talents,” the reins stated quietly.

Next part - Britzka & Whip

22/09/2022

10 reasons

Matt was a naughty boy. His stepfather had to punish him quite often in order to keep him in line. Maintenance spankings resulted only in a short improvement of behavior. Despite painful spankings after every mistake, Matt got into trouble again and again. After the last painful punishment, which ended only because dad broke his beloved belt on his ass, the boy decided to take action. To avoid the next trashing, foolishly thinking he was too old, he made a list of reasons why he shouldn’t be beaten anymore. He attached it to his report card hoping it would save his butt.

Stepdad wasn’t impressed. Matt’s grades made him feel disappointed, and his daring list irritated him. Quickly the young man realized his brilliant plan may have only made things worse. Now he was more anxious than ever. What kind of punishment would Dad come up with?

When dad returned, suddenly Matt’s worries had disappeared into thin air. He immediately reverted to being the stubborn boy when he saw the thin stick, which didn’t seem nearly as scary as grandpa’s belt…

Dad tapped the cane against the boy’s bottom a couple of times, then paused.

Thwack! The cane landed squarely across the middle of his bottom. There was a momentary delay between hearing the noise and feeling the pain. Yes, the pain! The initial sting was much worse than the wide old belt. Matt turned his head to hide his reaction.

Dad smiled. The cane works! He took his time to allow the boy to feel each stroke. After the third hit, Matt shouted “Fucking Hell, that hurts!” By the sixth, he was clearly in agony, writhing but still managing to suppress his tears and hold the position. He knew any resistance would only make his punishment worse. The seventh hit broke him. He loudly cried, “No more, please!!!” Dad was surprised at how effective a cane can be. He should have used it on the stubborn boy a long time ago!

Will the cane be more effecitve? What do you think?

03/07/2022

Forgotten Barn

She lay in the dark barn full of discarded and long-lost tools. Her companions were an old ladder, a hay wagon with broken spokes whose glory days had long passed, spiked reins, and a dusty horse collar. Among these were several other items such as a rusted plow with a broken plowshare and an old butter churn. A long bullwhip hung on the wall next to the horse collar. He was used by the master to hurry the horses.

Whip thought of himself as more than just a horse drover. He believed himself to be the most important tool of them all! Thanks to him, the lord could always get quickly wherever he wanted and the field was always well worked.

“Because of me, everyone danced like peacocks at the master’s command!” bragged Whip.

“Your conceit, silly Whip, has unhinged your mind,” the rattan cane laughed. She lay half-hidden in old straw, but spoke with pride.

“You have only ever hit a horse’s hindquarters, while I have beaten many beautiful butts - more than you ever dreamed!" Her tone was haughty and condescending. She came from distant England and so thought herself to be an aristocrat.

“You are not the only one who saw a lot of naked butts,” The hay wagon modestly joined the conversation. “Remember young Jack? We both taught him a lesson he deserved!”

“How?” asked Whip. “How could a lowly wagon teach him a lesson?”

“Like every late summer, I was ordered to transport hay into the barn,” replied Wagon indignantly. “Jack was the boy who rode me to the field. We had to get there before evening. But one day, instead of setting off, John just slumped to the ground with a sad face.”

“I bet he was waiting to see Jane, the cook’s helper, who worked with us,” sighed Butter Churn. “I got so sick of listening to her silly poems.”

Roses are red, violets are blue.
Johnny is so cute, I love you.

“Bleeeeh!!!”

“You are right,” said Hay Wagon. “He wanted to catch her on her way home. That day Jane had to stay longer at work, so John waited and waited leaning against my wheel. The young girl didn’t come. It was getting late, but John didn’t care. I was afraid for him. Suddenly, our Lord showed up out of the blue. The boy jumped to his feet and cried out, ‘Good evening Sir! I was about to set off, Sir!’”

“You should already have gone and come back!” The master roared. “This is the second time this has happened, you stubborn, lazy brat!”

“I’m sorry sir.” John tried to apologize. “But then,” exclaimed Cane proudly, “when he saw me in the master’s hand, the boy froze and couldn’t say another word. Shivering with excitement, I waited for that beloved sound. And then it came—‘Strip!’ John was so young and fit I knew our Lord wouldn’t treat him lightly.”

“I still don't understand how Hay Wagon was helpful,” complained Whip.

Indignantly, the wagon explained. “The Lord ordered the boy to get naked. The young hayseed begged for mercy but despite his pleas, we all heard the menace in our lord’s words: ‘I told you to strip. Don’t make me repeat it. With every second of delay, you earn extra strokes!’”

“Resigned, John did as he was told and took off his clothes,” explained Wagon. “Master pointed at me with the cane and said, ‘Climb up and bend over.’ He pushed the boy over my wooden bar, head down inside, legs apart and naked butt sticking out. He tied the boy’s hands so that he was balancing on me in an uncomfortable position.”

“His cheeks were perfectly exposed,” crowed Cane. “When Lord swished me through the air you could see how much it frightened the boy. Did you feel it, Hayrack?”

“Of course, I did!” laughed the wagon.

Cane continued, “The trembling nineteen-year-old followed me with his eyes as I prepared to deliver his punishment. When the Master touched me to his butt, his whole body shivered. ‘First fifty,’ the Lord proclaimed. John gulped and held his breath waiting for the first stroke. His helpless buttocks clenched preparing to receive my bite.”

“And then my wonderful dance began.” Cane sighed wistfully. “Those were the days. It was a real ride! You were very helpful, Hayrack old friend. You held him fast. I remember that he was told to stick out his arse for my pleasure. I think he got seventy lashes on his bare bottom. I whistled as I cut through the air, thrashing his firm, round rump. Our Lord certainly knew how to use me. Each time I connected with the boy’s butt, a long red welt immediately appeared on both cheeks. Under every stroke, I felt his butt tighten with pain.”

“Crack, crack, crack!” Recalled Cane.

“He wriggled his hips and his legs flailed behind him. Every muscle in his body was taut as a bowstring as I weaved a red pattern of agony on this exposed arse. With great relish I slashed across several of the earlier welts, causing the boy great distress.” Cane smiled broadly at the memory.

“He cried out pitifully at each stroke,” added Hay Wagon. “The boy wanted desperately to avoid Cane’s punishment, but I held him so he could only wave his legs and wiggle his arse a little on my bar. John howled after every stroke laid across his exposed buttocks. Tears and sweat flowed down my beams. He shouted, ‘Please! Stop!’ but our Lord only increased the ferocity of the caning.”

“That’s right!” Butter Churn recalled.

“Tirelessly, our Lord laid on strokes with a terrifying fervor that made the boy yelp inagony. Finally, Jane appeared, summoned by Johnny’s screams, and saw your wonderful artwork on his buttocks!” “Did they ever become a couple?” Wondered Cane with amusement.

“All I know,” replied Butter Churn, “is that she stopped thinking up poems about him. Luckily, however, her friends didn’t...

Violets are blue, John’s ass is red
He got a thrashing he never forgets

At this, they all had a good laugh and Butter Churn said, “Thank you, dear Cane, for these wonderful memories. And thanks to you too, Hayrack.”

Cane nodded her acknowledgement and said, “Since then I have often met Johnny’s buttocks. Master promised him that he would cane him every summer week. And he did! It was my honour to teach this boy what real pain means! I caned him every Saturday night...and I loved it!”

Whip glowered jealously from his place on the wall. He also had a story to tell.