The following story is fiction; just a fantasy. It contains scenes of public parental and peer spanking and shaving with the attendant humiliation and sex. If such subjects are offensive or uninteresting to you or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please stop reading now. Before you get very upset at the events in this piece, please remember that it is narrated by a twelve year old and they tend to exaggerate frequently.
This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.
The author would appreciate your comments – pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions.
Friday evening, June 11
Dear Pen Pal,
It was great to hear of your own spanking experiences. A couple of letters back you said that you did not understand boys and asked if I did. I think that I understand them even less now then I did last week! I'm more confused now then I was when I first told you that I definitely did NOT understand them. The last few days have been, er, strange and different.
A few days ago, my great aunt on the coast died and my parents had to go to the funeral. John, Tim and I managed to convince them that we since had all done baby sitting we could stay without one or more of us being farmed out to stay with friends for four days. I think that we succeeded because we each insisted that we needed our own PC's to study for finals the next couple of weeks. Tim's and my junior high is gung-ho on academics and, of course, John has a couple of Regents (New York State's own Torquemada and required for a top notch diploma) exams. Never before had we ever had such strong sibling bonding or solidarity of purpose. Let's all hear it for TEEN-POWER!! Predictably, it was very reluctantly that our parents agreed but, since school was still on, they insisted on a very strict curfew and we were going to get a checkup with a phone call each night. Just a checkup call but no parties or over-nighters. Not really bad.© YLeeCoyote
Tim almost blew it the first night. He came home twelve minutes late! And seven minutes after mom rang-up (see, I can talk British, too). If John and I hadn't kept talking until he showed up, mom would had missed him. Both John and I were furious at him and we ganged up on him – after all he had seriously jeopardized future freedom for us all particularly with the summer almost here. After John threatened, er, carefully explained to Tim that he surely would be grounded and probably have his allowance docked in addition to a spanking from dad he should get one here and now. Then, after Tim reluctantly acquiesced and stripped down, John sprung the belt on him by telling him he was too old get a mere baby, over the knee hand job. (Remember, I told you that John felt that this should have happened last year.) He was definitely old enough to get a real strapping. He even reminded him that happened to me. Even now it still seems to sting when I think about it. Since Tim is twelve and was twelve minutes late, we agreed on that number. John (with an evil grin) then offered Tim an option. If he was not crying by the tenth stroke, he would stop but if he was he would not only get the other two but lose his pubes. "Deal!" snapped Tim without thinking. It was a sucker bet for if he wasn't crying by the tenth, the other two would not be so bad and the risk was high. But once he accepted, he was stuck with the deal. Macho honor and all that other guy stuff. Yes, I know I told you Tim did have any a few letters ago, but to use a cliché: that was then, this is now. He is a growing boy and, well, growing them.
Tim assumed the position with his hands on his knees and his cute butt presented to our big brother for the strap. John folded his thick Garrison belt and quickly gave Tim the first stroke. WHACK! was the sound immediately followed by a gasp as a red band appeared across his exposed behind and then a belated "One." from Tim. WHACK! again and a second bright red strip appeared. Tim reminded me of the flag – alternating red and white stripes. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! sang the belt and, now at the half way point, Tim's butt was like the Chinese flag – all red. My twin's butt was now really hurting. He was trying desperately to hold back the tears and cries. Even his gasps were muted. I didn't dare to try to stop John for Tim would have been mortified. (I know that much about boys.) Of course, there were also changes in the front which I could see (surreptitiously) in the mirror. At first Tim's cock was soft but with each blow of the belt it got harder so that by now it was fully erect and was pressing up tight against his belly.
WHACK! And Tim really yelled out and jumped. "You moved; so that doesn't count." snapped John and he repeated the blow; WHACK! "Seven." gasped Tim. He quickly followed with another three WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! to make a count of ten (actually eleven). Tim, alas, started crying somewhere between the ninth and tenth. John gave the next one gently and then finished up with the last one very hard. Tim gave out with a loud cry that was very different and, as he straightened up, his cock spurted. There must have been at least a half dozen squirts. Yes, dear Pen Pal, my twin brother had an ORGASM just from the strapping in front of us! John then directed Tim to stand in the corner. Big brother had also been showing sexual arousal signs though all of this. Since he had started there was a growing bulge in his jeans and now there was definitely a small wet spot – also growing. I would make snide remarks about guys' lack of control, but my panties were not dry either.
After we basked awhile in the heat of Tim's flaming hot buns, he stopped crying and John told him to get the barber chippers which he did, somewhat reluctantly. When he returned he gave the clippers to John and stood before him at parade rest. John took hold of Tim's cock, still hard as it had been since the third blow, and quickly removed the small bush that Tim was growing. Tim was very stoic outwardly, but he was bitting his lip and there were tears in his eyes. When John had finished, we all went off to our rooms – like the good boys and girl we are – to do our homework. I could hear both my brothers jerking off in their rooms. What do you think I was doing in my room? I'm sorry that my dear twin got his ass whipped but I can't stop thinking about his red hot butt. Whenever I visualize it, I get THAT feeling down between my legs. Oh, it feels so, so good.
The next evening the same thing happened except that it was John who was late. After we had finished with mom on the phone, Tim told John that he was due a strapping. Fair is fair, so John was trapped and we all knew it. I have never seen such a perfect oh shit look before as John managed at that very moment. As John stripped down, Tim took his belt and said since you're sixteen that seems to be the proper number. Since I concurred, John was forced to accept that number. "When you're ready, just assume the position, please." stated Tim gleefully and ever so politely.
Just before starting, Tim asked: "Bet your pubes that you won't cry before the last two, Big Brother?" But big macho bro said: "Sure!" and confidentially assumed the position. I can't believe he agreed to this; must be a guy thing. WHACK! went the strap and I was treated to a lovely red stripe across big brother's derriere. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! went the belt very quickly, very hard and in the some spot making the strip very crimson and inflicting more intense pain then if they were spread out over the entire butt. My twin is crafty! Tim tactics were working for I could see John straining not to cry out from a strapping given by his kid brother and with his kid sister watching. But, he had forgotten to count! Tim (with a big smirk that John, fortunately, couldn't see) calmly said: "You may start to count when ever you are ready." and WHACK! WHACK! again brought the belt down hard on his brother's exposed ass – twice. John started to count – properly at one – but Tim had gotten an extra six good blows in which gave him a good chance of making John cry. We had all read of these things in British school stories and knew the proper way to behave. Certainly John couldn't show any weakness, but had to endure it all as if did not matter to him. What John did show was a hardon. His thing was bigger than Tim's and when it got hard even bigger still. It was up against his belly almost immediately after the strapping started.
Tim continued to concentrate his belt on the same limited area of John's ass and it was very effective. By the time the count had reached ten (really sixteen strokes) John was straining not to cry. If he hadn't forgotten to count, he would have won the bet, but now he was in trouble. Tim gave him three more very quickly and he only counted two of them. On the next (count: 13; strokes: 20) John lost it and began to cry. Tim had apparently achieved what he wanted and gave me the belt for the last three strokes. It was a strange feeling of power standing with the belt over my docile, submissive big brother who was presenting his vulnerable, red butt to me as a target for the belt I was holding. I swung the belt and connected with the waiting posterior. As John said "Fourteen." I could see more of his behind begin to turn red. Twice more I repeated this and the results were even more satisfying then when I spanked Tim. My three strokes were widely spread. I bet Tim had been practicing in private to get the precession required. The English school stories do tell of new prefects being taught how to cane and of practicing. Sometimes there is some good stuff on PBS (oh, that's public broadcasting which gives us "quality" TV). We then put John in the corner while Tim went to the john (that's loo to the Brits that taught you English) to prepare. He was much happier than yesterday.
Soon John was standing at parade rest in the bathtub before Tim who was doing a fine imitation of a Cheshire Cat. John was staring out the window and not watching what Tim was doing with the clippers. I guess that he knew that he wouldn't like what was happening but he couldn't stop it or even ask. I suppose that he was trying to be macho. Tim started at the bottom, carefully and closely clipped all the hairs from John's scrotum very close. Then he did the same to the side of John's pubes so that it was very neat looking. Finally, with a huge grin, he mowed down the main bush above John's member. Both my brothers were very hard. I could see how Tim's jeans were bulging and that John was oozing. I know that my own panties were, er, very damp. Then he took the shower hose and wet down John's groin before covering it with shaving cream. Tim was beaming as he carefully removed the shaving cream and hair with a safety razor from our big brother's crotch. It just took a few moments to remove what had taken many months to grow. I'm sure that John must have had mixed emotions about all this for Tim was also massaging John's ever hard dick while he used the razor. (I tried it and shaving cream is a good lube.) A couple of squirts from the shower hose and Tim and I could see how clean and smooth John was. As he shut off the water, he cheerfully announced that he had homework to do and he dashed off to his room. John was still transfixed by his own staring and did not move for a while. I can not tell you what he did because I did as Tim and went to do my homework. A few minutes later I heard John leave the bathroom. But, surprise, he went to Tim's room rather than his own.
I quietly opened my door and since John hadn't shut Tim's door completely I could hear some of what was happening. At first it was low and I only caught only a few words, but it got louder and then I heard John say: "Either you suck me or I'll fuck you! Which will it be?" I never heard Tim's answer but just further mumbling from both of them. I must assume that Tim had his mouth real full and busy. I bet that this is not the first time they played such games since Tim was not objecting; gee, they have been keeping secrets from me. As I stood there, keeping my panties quite wet, I almost wished that John had come to my room instead of Tim's. Then I heard John bellow and I assume that he came either in or on Tim. Oh, I do wish that I could have seen that. I ducked back into my room so that John wouldn't see me.
Well, British school spankings aren't the only thing I've read about so then I went into Tim's room without knocking. As I expected, he had his jeans open and briefs down while he was playing with himself sitting on the bed. I told him that I was concerned that John would very mad at what he did and he should be very careful. He started to speak but before he could say anything, I totally lost control – would you believe – and dropped to my knees and began to lick his hard tool. It was the first time that I actually tasted one and it was ripe and juicy. Tim put his hands on my head over my ears and began to control my head. Not only was I sucking him but he was fucking my mouth. I'm not sure how long it took, but it seemed like only seconds before he shot into my mouth. It was a real surprise when he exploded – like a repeating rifle – into me several times in rapid succession with this strange sticky stuff that I had only read about in my bio textbook. With his man rod still filling me, I was forced to swallow it all or to choke. When I looked up I could see Tim's face all screwed up with this ecstatic look! I probably looked a bit funny too, cuz I LIKED it. Then the most amazing thing of all happened – he let go of my head and laid back on the bed saying: "Gosh! Sis! That was FUCKING FANTASTIC!" It really turned me on that he reacted like that. I guess that this must be what some of my older cousins were talking about when they were boasting about how they controlled boys. Like, talk about POWER! This is even better than spanking them.
As soon as I stood up, he pulled me down next to him. Then he kissed me on the month hard – just like in the movies – and put his hand on my sex (over my jeans). I undid the button and lifted the zipper tab and got him to slid his hand inside. He even managed to slip under my panties on the first try. (Boys are so dextrous; evidently not just with machines.) As he fumbled with my pussy, my jeans opened up and it was easier to play. I think we were both surprised at how wet I had gotten. I was soooo slippery, but it seemed to make it easier for him to move his fingers inside my panties. I guided him to my favorite little, but hard, love button and he got the idea right away. (I guess it because it is like a small version of what he has.) It felt so, so good for someone else to play with it rather than myself. Almost immediately this delicious pressure started building up, much more quickly than when I do it myself, and then STAR BURSTS! I mean, WOW! I could feel these sort of little "electric shocks" for a long time afterward. Even though he was as clumsy with me as I am sure I was with him, I was so excited that I came quickly. We just lay there looking at each other, grinning.
I now understand that slogan I've seen on T-shirts: "Let go of my ears, I know what I'm doing." Some time afterwards I returned to my room. Feeling somewhat guilty and excited I did not study effectively that evening at all. Somehow the going of the wives of King Henry whatever was not of interest. Now if only they had been telling us about coming in the royal bedroom maybe….
This morning at breakfast, John got a call from a friend who was sick and therefore wouldn't be able to go to some ball game that night for which they had tickets. John immediately asked Tim to go with him instead of asking one of his other friends. He never did anything like that but usually shunned our brother. I don't understand boys at all. And speaking of understanding, I been very careful to follow Mrs. Brooks', my social studies teacher, suggestion not to confuse you with teen slang. Sometimes, I can't even keep up with it myself and next year it will all be useless (because the grownups will know it) and we will being using something new.
The boys are at the game now and our parents are due back on Sunday. I'll let you know what happens. My brothers seemed to have so much fun being late I think that maybe I should be late tomorrow. Well, got to hit the books now so I can play tomorrow.
Sunday morning, June 13
Dear Pen Pal,
I can not wait to tell you about last night even though you haven't had time to get, much less answer, my letter of Friday evening. I ended that letter by stating that I was musing about what would happen if I was late last night and had to submit to punishment from my brothers. As you know from my report of that absolutely terrible nightmare I had on Memorial Day, my imagination can really torture me. I had thoughts that ranged from getting just a simple, silly lecture to being flogged with their friends watching. I decided that I would NOT be late on purpose. After all, my brothers got very close after the other night and I was I little nervous about it. John might take the opportunity to strap his tomboy sister just to show she can not take it.
We were all having dinner at friends' houses and were due back at 11 (oh, that's 2300 where you are). I planned to leave Jenny's at 2250 and have at least five minutes to spare before mom's call. It did not happen that way at all. We (five girls) were yakking up a storm and then I heard the grandfather clock strike. I looked at my watch and it was 2301! I was late!! I dashed out and ran all the way home. I got there just in time to speak with mom. But as I hung up the phone, both my dear loving brothers said: "You were late, Young Lady!" A cold chill run up my spine as suddenly, I realized that I was in deep doo-doo. I felt just the same as when mom said it and sent me to my room to wait for dad to get home. Gosh, it was positively scary!
Gee, it made me feel terrible hearing them lecture me (particularly while they were grinning). They said all those terrible things that I said to them the previous nights. It made me feel doubly bad. First for mistreating them and second knowing that I was now just as guilty as they were. They were not interested in excuses any more than I was with them or, more seriously, our parents are. Then and there I resolved to always let my kids explain because there may be things that I don't know about the crime. Anyway, I'm digressing.
While I was making this resolution to be fair, my brothers, a.k.a. judges, were discussing my fate. I heard "spanking", "strapping", "shaving", "but she's just a girl" and "dad did it to her". Eventually, they turned to me and Tim announced my fate: "You will get a spanking from John – hard, OTK, while naked – and then lose your beaver coat to 'Mr. Klipper' and me." What could I say. They had gotten worse and even if I tried the bet thing, they could surely make me cry.
I started to strip down and they both made catcalls and wolf whistles. They wanted sexy! So I hammed it up a bit as I has seen done in the French cancan movies. Saw one like that at the Metropolitan Museum of Art – who said culture has to be dull! Hey, they had both seen me naked before and I them, so we're not shy with each other and this was FUN. Soon after, John sat on the couch and, now naked, I laid down over his lap, comfortably supported by the couch. (Dad uses a chair and I'm dangling – uncomfortably – at both ends.) John starts gently but from the way he is holding me, I know that he is really going to give it to me. Slap! SLap! SLAp! SLAP! SPANK! The spanks keep coming. SPANK! SPANK! I try to count SPANK! but by the time I get to a dozen, I lose count. SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! Actually, I not longer can see the spank-counter image before my eyes because I am crying. SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! Then it is over. As John was spanking me I could feel his cock getting hard under me with each blow. That does not happen with dad. Also, I had gotten that woooondeeeerfuuuuul tingling feeling down below and I was very wet.
They turn me over and slide me lengthwise so that my back is on John's lap while my thighs are on Tim's lap. Tim turns on the barbers' clippers and brings it down to my pussy lips. I don't have that much hair so it loss is not a big deal, but the vibration is GREAT! FUCKING FABULOUS!* I'm turned on. Tim keeps at it far longer than hair removal requires. I get totally lost in the sensations. Tim hands me the clipper and I continue to use it as a vibrator on my love button. (Oh, not the cutting edge but the flat plate and handle.) The boys lift me up and place me back on the couch. Then they both rip open their bulging jeans and pull down their briefs freeing the hard waiting cocks inside. They frantically jerk off while watching me play with the clipper cum vibrator. It does not take them very long for them to shot their sticky come over my innocent young body. I come immediately afterwards.
As I lay there recovering from that orgasm, John said to Tim: "I doubt if she learnt not to be late tonight." And Tim replied: "Well, if she didn't learn her lesson we just have to do it again."
I sure that they are right. My brothers are soooo smart. Sometimes.
Oh, we are all going to real, sleep-away summer camp next month. That should be great fun.
Monday evening, July 18
Dear Pen Pal,
As you know, I am at summer camp and the conditions here are positively primitive which is why you must endure my terrible handwriting and spelling errors. I don't even have a typewriter! Unlike my previous letters, I must write this like Mr. Dickens did with his epic novels – by hand. Fortunately, for both of us, this is much shorter and I can use a ball point pen rather than a quill.
Camp is much more fun than I expected. Although it is a co-ed camp it is setup as brother/sister camps with a 'pink' girls and 'blue' boys section with the common stuff like the mess and social halls in between. Would you believe they are all yellow? Really! I kid you not!! They must have been struck with a major case of the "cuties" when they named the sections. I like my bunk mates for, like me, they are tomboyish rather than prissy. The girls' activities are separate from the boys' except for twice-a-week socials. With two 'agents' in the other camp, I gotten a couple of good introductions to some real cool guys who like me. (Incidentally, one of my bunkmates is after my bod too.) John is a waiter but with lots of free time he gets into the action too.
Saturday afternoon Nan and I were washing up after working on painting the set for the first play of the season and we over heard some of the older guys talking in the john. That night they were going to start to haze the new campers; the fun was to commence at midnight behind the boat house. Nan immediately broke out in a huge grin and said that we must watch. Her cousin was here last year and she said she had heard some stories. So, we snuck out at 11:40 and were safely hidden in the bushes behind the boat house. There was only one side where the event could take place and not be seen by anyone in the camp. Anyone except these two Ninja spies that is.
Well, at the witching hour, the coven showed up. The four new boys and eight old timers. The newbies were stripped and we got to see four sets of cocks, balls and buns. They were asked silly questions about the camp and sports. But the penalties were what were interesting. Each time that a newbie did not know the correct answer, he was required to ask four of the old timers for a blow on the ass: "Please, Wise Sir, Chastise this stupid boy.", then turn and assume the position. The old timers carried ping pong paddles, hair brushes and belts. Then after each blow they had to say: "Thank you, Sir."
The initiates were required to be quiet and so we could enjoy the sound of boy butts being beaten and turning red, red and redder! They each started out white, but we could see their butts gradually turn pink, red and dark red by the light from the flashlights (gee, your word – torches – would sound better here). So it went: Question. Wrong answer. Please, Sir. Turn and bend. WHACK! Thank you. And turning darker. We kept count and each of the boys got fifteen sets of four "kisses". A couple of the old timers used their hands. At first they were asked but they apparently hit very hard so by the time the event was over they were no longer the first to be asked. I just wished that it was lighter so that Nan and I could have seen better. It was very exciting and, yes, definitely – there was this great feeling between my legs – again. Of course, I encouraged it with my hand. (And Nan did the same.)
To finish up the boys were assigned an initiation mission. Tim and Nan's brother, Tom, were required to get pictures of the girls' showers in our camp the next night and the other two new boys the same in the girls' camp on the other side.
Nan and I were torn between two loyalties: should we betray our brothers or the other girls. After a long discussion, we decided not to rat on them. Also, being photographed would not hurt any one. Besides we could get in trouble ourselves for being in a position to know the plans.
About 2300 Sunday evening, my bunkmate Nancy and I were woken up by a couple of girls from the fourteen year old group and told that there was something special for us to watch. They had caught a couple of boys spying, cameras in hand, on the older girls in the shower and were going to teach them a lesson. Yes, you guess it on the first try: Tim and Tom. Nan and I were invited to watch, but not participate, in their punishment.
By the time we got to the shower house the two captives had been stripped and had their hands tied behind their back. Would you believe that they were hard even in their helpless position; even after getting a cold shower. Tradition dictated the punishment. With some fanfare, one of the senior girls pronounced sentence on the two knaves.
The first part of the sentence was that they get Mohawks. This is a type of haircut named after the Indian tribe which lived in northern New York. You know Marvin Martian from Looney Tunes; his helmet has that same effect – a strip of hair down the middle and the rest shaved smooth. The boys were told what was going to happen and forced to kneel. They were also told that if they resisted that they "would lose ALL of their hair and we mean ALL!, guys." Nan and I were kept in the background so our brothers would not see us. They had a powerful clipper and the four senior girls each did half a head. The boys were stoic and did not resist. I was told that both resistance and cowardliness are rewarded with extra punishments. Of course, those cameras were used – almost as planed for nude shots in the shower.
The second part of the punishment was to dye the remaining hair pink; a bright shocking pink. The dye was brushed on the boys and left to set for a while. They are very unhappy for they do not know that it is easily washed out rather than a permanent type.
The third part of the punishment is more permanent. Real paint is used to decorate the boys' chests and backs with a large "P" and then their crotches were also painted. Would you like to guess what color is used. Nope; that's wrong; it is not pink. It is FLORESCENT PINK. They could get away with the strange hair cut after their next shower but a florescent pink cock is going to be a real problem for a while. Would you want to try to scrub it off? OUCH at just the thought. I was told that it is not that bad for it stage paint and not wall paint, but even so. I got some of it on my hands working on the set and it does scrub off but not that easily.
The final punishment to be administered was twenty strokes with a leather strap; actually a couple of old leather belts. Each of the four senior girls administered five each. It turned out that two were lefties so the boys would get it very evenly. The boys were hobbled and tied together so that they could not run. Tim got it first. With everyone (including Tom) watching two of the seniors started on his nice white behind. It was so nice watching how his bottom changed color. First the sound of the belt, WHACK! and then the white turning pink. After a few strokes, Tim's butt was all red. The seniors were mad and really laid it on hard. I think that they hit too hard but I could not do anything about it. I was worrying that Tim would really embarrass himself by shooting like he did when John strapped him. It was bad enough that he was hard though all of this. By the time Tim had gotten the specified ten on each side his butt was a very bright red. I though his bottom glowed more than the paint on his body.
Now it was Tom's turn to get it. He was a little older than Tim and was one of the boys that I liked. His sister whispered to me that he had never, ever been spanked in any way. Well, that was about to end and in public. We were going to see what kind of stuff he is made of. He yelled on the first blow and was told that if he yelled again he would earn an extra two. He was quiet as the next few strokes completely reddened his virgin bottom and then broke down. He started to whimper and after a few more he was crying. The seniors with the straps and now with extra broad smiles, kept at it for the full count and then added an extra four. I must confess that I was proud that Tim took it was well and Nan was ashamed of her brother and would not speak of it.
They were led back to the Yellow zone and told that they were free. Free after they untied themselves. Free like the day they were born – naked. (Their clothes were dumped into the laundry and they will get them back next week.) They got lots of nude pictures in the girls' shower as required. Although not quite the subjects specified. I expect to hear about this sometime in the future. I wonder how much of the truth will be changed since Tim does not know I saw it all.
Anyway it is lights out time, so I will close now and mail this in the morning.
Mary Lou Tuesday evening continuation,
This is a special week. A couple of hours before reveille this morning, I was called again. This time John had been caught trying to get revenge on the girls that mistreated Tom and his own little brother. Both Kevin (another waiter) and he were caught with a bucket of blue paint outside of the seniors' bunk house. This time it was the waitress that were in charge. I was called to watch what happened to my big brother.
By the time I got there they were each tied to a broom handle to keep their arms outstretched and also with ropes tying their ankles so that they were hobbled. Then their clothes were cut off until they were naked. I noticed that John's pubes were pretty long for having been shaved just a month ago.
The first thing that happened is that they got haircuts. This time it was an X design. John got the positive and the other guy the negative. It actually looks stranger than the Mohawks. The waitress did not fool around and then proceeded to clip all of their body hair – underarms, chests and crotches. Then they used the paint that the boys brought and put matching X's on their chests and reverse X's on their backs. They then painted the rest with the Florescent Pink to make blue on pink and pink on blue designs. If it hadn't been my brother, I think it would have been funny.
The boys were then told that they are going to get twenty strokes from a belt each and to make it interesting they have to do to each other. If it is too easy it the delivered count is reduced by one. (That means they get two extra.) The older girls tell me that this usually results in thirty or more strokes and they get quite hard because the first couple are always declared to be "babyish". The boys still hobbled and tied together with some clothesline were then otherwise freed. We did not even have to cheat as they started very gently with each other. By the time they had five each they were hitting quite hard. I think it was like Tim used on John that I told you about. With the two big boys giving it to each other their butts turned red real fast and then deep red. It appeared to me that they actually got mad at each other and that made the strokes even harder. Those butts were red, red hot were they stopped.
They were led by a rope tied about their cocks and balls to the Yellow section. Near the flag pole is a small iron fence. They were attached tightly to the fence with plastic wire ties. First one was placed like a snug bracelet about a wrist and then a second tie to the fence. The ties are very tough plastic and are not easily broken but must be cut with a tool. Everyone in the camp gathers for the morning flag raising before breakfast. ABSOLUTELY EVERYONE!
There may be some great honor for the boys to invade the girls section but it must be very disgraceful to be caught and then put on display like that. I heard that the unfortunate folks in the pillory (in colonial time) sometimes got de-pantsed. The Head counselor did not seem very concerned but did the usual stuff while the two ejected invaders were on display. At the end however, he made comments about not invading the other half camp and the high price of trespass. As we went into the mess hall, they were cut loose. But the Head made them serve breakfast without going back to get dressed.
Anyway it's lights out time, so I will close now and mail this in the morning.
Mary Lou just loves to hear from new pen pals, particularly about their spanking experiences. Write her a letter either for posting or not.
© Copyright A.I.L., #3: June 16; #4: June 17; #5: July 9, 1997
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