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The following story is fiction about  CP in public.  The story contains scenes of strapping.  If this subject is offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.  The story was inspired by the picture at which was found in several places on the web without attribution and a mis-spelt sign which was changed.  Click to open the image off-site (NSFW).

This is a translation from the German story "Schandpfahl" by Beelzebub.  The core translation was done by  It was reviewed by the author and made presentable by Y Lee Coyote in consultation with the author.

The characters are from the author's series "Carsten lernt …." but that is not required reading for this standalone story.  The minimum drinking age is eighteen in this local.

This work is copyright by the authors/translator and commercial use is prohibited without permission.  Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.

The authors/translator would appreciate your comments – pro and con, including constructive criticism and suggestions.  Please take a moment to email.

Whipping Post
After the Party

Story by

Translation by
Y Lee Coyote

"Oooooh," my butt burns, my head throbs and I mooned.  Anton and I stand naked and tied up to this public whipping post.  Oh yes, it's really a shame that the fantastic birthday party had to end so horribly.

Steven had celebrated his eighteenth birthday.  Of course, the party didn't really get started until after midnight.  He'd invited all his friends.  It was a great garage party.  The night was muggy while the music and the drinks made us all hot and bothered.  Tired?  Who was tired?  We were still going strong at 6:00 a.m. when the last four of us left the party.  The trail led us through the park.  Well equipped with liquid provisions, we continued to celebrate while yelling loudly.  After all, you only celebrate an important birthday like this once in a lifetime.  But then the police … more about that later.

"Here they come, Carsten.  Four of them." said Anton with trepidation.

"They are still young.  Maybe they don't dare."

"Fuck off!  Go and play." I growl at the four young teens, perhaps twelve to fourteen years old, staring at us with their mouths agape.

"Ha!  They've been whacked." laughs one.

"Look.  There's a sign.  'Do your civic duty take the strop to these delinquents.'" the tallest one, just a boy in sports clothes, shorts and a T-shirt, reads out loud as if the others are illiterate.

"This is none of your business!  You're far too young.  The sign is for adults only.  You don't have punishment rights as a little child."  I yell at the boys hopefully.

"What a pity." the boy grumbles and shrugs his shoulders.  I'm glad it was so easy to make the boys believe me.

A woman with her little daughter joins the four young teenagers as I order: "Boys, get out of here and leave us alone!"

"Mummy, Mummy, look, there are two men."  The girl swallows incredulously and whispers "They're both – naked!  Ewww!" but she giggles anyway.

"Mommy, why are they tied up?  And Mommy, why did they get … spanked?"

"Sweety, I don't know.  Let's ask them." replies the woman and demands of us "Well, who tied you up here and why?"

Anton stammers.  "We were a little too loud last night.  The locals didn't like it and they called the police.  The cops strung us up and strapped us too.  We're just supposed to hang out for a while as a punishment and a deterrent."

"Mmmmm." says the woman doubtingly.

"Ow!" I yelped for she slapped me on my ass.

"Boys what do you think?  Did they get a real beating?" the woman asks.  I see her wild, aggressive look.  She obviously didn't fall for Anton's answer.

"Boys, have you ever hit a bare bottom with a strap?" she continues.  I'm horrified when she takes the brown leather strop off the hook and hands it to the biggest kid.  The boys look at the woman in astonishment and smile broadly.

"Dear lady, you're not really encouraging the young to chastise adults.  What do you want them to learn?  They will lose all respect for older people.  Let them go to the ball field.  The police will be here in a few minutes to release us."  I say trying not to sound like I was begging.

"Don't talk such nonsense.  The young will learn that wrongdoers will be punished justly even if they are older people.  You see, boys, these two were making a turmoil in the park last night.  They disturbed the people who live around here so they couldn't sleep.  You understand?  And now the residents can look out their windows and see that they're being properly punished." she explains in terribly excessive detail.

She smiles cheerfully at the oldest boy.  He still holds the leather strop in his hand, carefully examining and weighing it.  Decades ago it would have been a familiar item, even if a boy's father did not use one, for they hung from every barbers' chair but now it is a novel object to the young.

"Would you like to try it?" she asks.  It is clear where this is going and I don't like it.

"Yes Ma'am." says the fourteen-year-old smiling gratefully at the woman.

"Which hand do you hit with?"

"With this one." the boy raises his right hand with the strap.

"Then stand on his left side, reach out and aim well."  She takes him by the shoulders and guides him to the striking position.

Unsteadily, the boy looks up at me.

"Don't you dare." I snap at him angrily.

"He can't hurt you.  He only threatens.  Don't be afraid," the woman says into his ear encouraging him.

I give her a dirty look.  "We'll be out in a minute anyway.  And then?  The poor boy.  What are you whispering into his ear?  He'll have to pay for it."  Unfortunately, my threat doesn't work.

The boy lifts the evil strop.  I sigh and turn away a little.

"Will you stop moving!" the old witch growls at me as she guides the boy's hand.

"Raise it up high and then hit him with power.  You don't want to just caress him."  And then to the others "Take a step back." as she pushes the other curious children back a little, so that the boy has a safe space to swing.


"Ouch!" I make a small hop as the strap hits my right thigh and left cheek diagonally.

"That was quite good.  Look – here's the red stripe you gave him." she points.  "Now punish the other one with even more force.  Try to hit both buttocks at once."  Anton fidgets restlessly knowing that it is now his turn.

"Listen.  That's not fair!  We haven't disturbed your sleep, so please leave us alone." Anton pleads.

"Don't listen to him.  He doesn't like to be spanked." the woman instructs.


I hear the strap and see Anton's face contorting into a grimace from the pain.

"My turn!" cries one of the kid's buddies.

"And me." says another.

"Yes, all of you may – but just two each."

"Me first!"  The boy hands his ball to his friend.  Anton looks at me unhappily.  I don't like getting beat up by those kids either.


"Ouch!" I react to the lick.

"WOW!  Great." the boy jumps enthusiastically on the spot and claps his hands.

"Ouch!" Anton can't think of anything better in answer to the whack.

"Now me!" says the next one.

"This is really fun!  Can we do it again?"

"Boys, I'm sure there'll be other people who want to do their civic duty."

"Mommy, can I try, too?" the six-year-old girl asks.

"No, sweety, we are going to church now.  We're already late.  Maybe they'll still be hanging around here in an hour, then we'll see." She puts the strap back on the hook to my great relief.

"Go and play or watch when others pass by and give these cheeky boys a few cuts." says the woman and walks toward the church while holding the girl's hand.

The boys stare at us.  "Did our blows really hurt?" they inquire.

"Yes, of course.  Look at the marks you made on our asses."

"But you're not crying."

I shrug my shoulders, grinning, for they proved themselves to be just boys.

"Can we do it again?"

"No!  Of course not!  You're crazy!"

The oldest one takes the strap off the hook.  "What will you do if I hit you again?"

"Don't you dare!  I'll get you and then I'll beat the shit out of you so bad you won't be able to sit for a month."

"I don't believe it!" the snotty brat sassingly replies.  I realize my authority is severely limited in this situation.

"Dirk, go on, hit him again.  He's really cheeky!" encourages one of his buddies.

"Should I?" he asks with hesitation.

"YES!" his three friends support him unanimously.

"They won't get us."  Dirk takes a deep breath and gets into position.


He burns me with the strop.

"Ow!  Are you crazy?  Don't do that!"


"Ouch." Anton howls as Dirk gets him also.

"You can't hit us anymore!  It's not fair.  Don't you understand?"

"Here come the police!" I lie.

It is effective for the boy drops the strop and the four of them run into the park.  Anton smiles at me.  "Good idea."

We are happy that we were not punished any more by those boys because my lie shooed the four boys immediately.

"Oh, dear, you better close your eyes and dream that this isn't true.  Bettina and Valerie are coming."

"Nooooo!  How did they know?"

"You can ask them." Anton says cynically.

"Hi Carsten.  Hi Anton.  How are you doing?" the two girls giggle behind their hands as they greet us.

"You see yourself.  We're cooling our hot butts."

"Oh, look, Bettina, there's a strap.  What's that for?"

"You girls are for order and neatness.  On the pole there's a hook – that's where the strop belongs.  I would hang it up myself but my hands are engaged right now."

"Hm, how do you get these marks from the strop on your backsides?"

"That's not important.  Hang it up again, please." I urge her.

"Look, Valerie, it says here…" Bettina points at the sign, "…that it is our civic duty to use the belt and punish the delinquents with it."

"What have you done?  How was your party?" continues Valerie and she swings the strop at my burning red-hot ass.


She swings hard.

"Ouch.  Not so hard.  Valerie, please! You're not going to beat up your honey, are you?"

"Maybe I will.  It's a new experience.  A new fun experience."


"Ouch, please stop!"

"Why?  I don't know what you've done yet."


"Ouch!  Please Valerie!"

That she can be so cruel and hit my butt with a strap, makes me think.  It been just two weeks that I've been with her and now she's spanking me.  "Stop it or I won't be able to tell you why we're hanging here!"

"Anton can tell in the meantime," Valerie suggests.

"I might as well whack Anton first while Carsten can tell." proposes Bettina.

I bite on my tongue for how can I sacrifice my friend's ass to his girlfriend's wrath with the strop to save my own?

"Well, we were going through the park early this morning when it was already light.  We were in a good mood and still partying."  I hurry to tell for Valerie has raised the strop again.

She lowers it to my great relief.  "Go on!" she curiously commands.

"Then we came to the fountain and suddenly I felt like cooling off.  Anton and I went into the water.  Hmmm, that was really neat and made us feel good again and sober!"

"Well, it was not only the cold water, but also the cops who suddenly appeared there.  They reacted totally humorlessly." Anton says sourly.  "Why didn't they understand that we celebrated Steven's eighteenth birthday extensively?  Man, once in a lifetime!  They exaggerated.  It was just a few bottles that we could have picked up and put in the trash then.  Instead, they tied us to this pole here and invited passers-by to whip us."

"It's not fair.  They have no sense of joy." I finish up.

"To make sure people take the invitation seriously, they gave us a few cuts on our virgin backsides to start." Anton agrees indignantly.

"It really was a cool party.  Only boys!  That was so great.  I could become gay."  I said and she hit me again.  "Ow! Sorry, I didn't mean that."


"Valerieeeee," I squeal in high-pitched tones.  "Enough!"


"It hurts like hell." I say while writhing in the ropes.

"You fool.  You deserve it!  Running off to some stupid gay party and neglecting me?!"

"Oww, Valieeee!  I'm sorry!"  Her blows are bringing tears to my eyes.  I'm sobbing.  "Please, Valerie, I understand!"  I jump desperately from one foot to the other, pulling on the ropes.

"Let me try."  Bettina takes the strap from her girlfriend.

From teary eyes I see that we are no longer alone.  Several people, large and small, old and young, have formed a circle around us.

The four boys are back and in the first row with huge grins.  "Hi, they're going to get a good thrashing." they say with satisfaction.

"Ouch," Anton moans and yanks on the unyielding ropes.  "Bettina, stop it.  We'll make it up to you!"


Bettina is in no way inferior to Valerie and uses the strap effectively.

"Bettina, please," the eighteen-year-old sobs like a little schoolboy.

"Valerie, I think we should take a stricter line on these impertinent rascals in future.  It reflects badly on us when they misbehave in public."


The strap hits and painfully reddens Anton's white thighs.

"Aiiiiii!  Don't hit there!  It hurts so bad!" he whines.

"Yes. Bettina, you're right.  It can't be that we have to pick up these naughty boys in front of the police station after a night of drinking.  You should have heard Frank's spiteful voice when he called me out of bed this morning to tell me about this."


Phew, that lick sounded particularly violent.  The girls are really mad.

"Do you hear Anton!  No drinking when I'm not with you."

"That goes for you too, Carsten!" Valerie takes my tear stained face in her hands and looks at me piercingly.

I nod humbly.  If only I could escape this humiliating situation.

I take a deep breath of relief as a cop makes his way through the human ring.  He has the keys for the shackles and the plastic bags with our clothes with him.

"Phew." It's embarrassing to rub your burning ass in front of strangers and to get dressed.

"Oh, too bad" The watchers regret that the show is over.

"When will somebody be punished again?" the fourteen-year-old boldly asks the policeman.

"When we catch naughty boys rioting in the park again." the cop says threateningly.  Dirk and his friends quickly disappear into the crowd.

The policeman looks at Anton and me just as angrily: "You two report to the police station this afternoon ready to clean up the park.  Get out of here!"

Another whipping post story: "One Dunking Earns Two Stroppings"

© Copyright Beelzebub and A.I.L. February 28, 2020

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