Copyright 2010 by the author
The story contains weird, nasty bondage in a fantasy setting.
Author's note: I've promised some readers certain scenes in upcoming episodes. Because this episode overruns the preferred word-count, those scenarios I've promised may be pushed to a later chapter. Sorry. As always, thank you so much to those who have written in. Even the simplest messages are muchly appreciated.
thobyandover@y7mail.com
HARNESSED BUCKS
Being an episode within which a richly anticipated scene -- that of the hero's public and thorough whipping in calculated detail -- is slowly and tediously worked towards, and the reader may be justifiably enraged at the poorly planned anti-climax.
PART THE SIXTH
The drinking and merry-making men with the stamina to remain awake until the dawn did have some fun with me, and it is my duty to report that I did seem to give them their fun. Harnessed from my neck to my balls in a man-leash and placed atop a pair of women's very high heels, with my hair trimmed and braided expertly and affixed with tingling, shining bells, and with my pubic hairs similarly decorated, and with rings pierced through my ears and nipples and also grievously through my poor cock-head, I did prance about at their bidding. My own stamina was sorely tested, for I had no choice but to hop and skip, for the man-leash is a thing designed to give the restrained male-buck no latitude for movement excepting those movements whereby his captor may dictate. Also, I had been given no choice in the shameful, feminine decorations I had been made to wear, and these things have been described in the previous chapter.
The accursed Corsair louts had not sought to release my wrists from the fixtures at the rear of my neck-collar, and this accursed collar and its attaching leash which went from the accursed shackle about the base of my testicles -- to the collar -- and then to the accursed hands of a slobbering Corsair retard did become the thing I most hated in the world as I strutted and paraded for their amusement. The retarded nitwit did jerk the leash this way -- and I was forced to flounce and frolic this way also -- and he yanked the leash that way -- and I did subsequently follow that way with a wiggle and a little dance, and I was compelled to make these movements in order to safeguard my accursedly shackled nuts, and I was otherwise buck-naked, and all who saw me were firstly surprised and then engrossed in observing me as I bopped and boogied in high-heels on the accursed leash with my elbows upheld and my hands behind my neck.
My ass did pivot and turn with quick movements as I ran, in order that my loin follow diligently the jerks and tugs of the man-shackle about my nuts, and these things have been described in previous chapters but nevertheless, the author of this parchment is intent upon conveying to the reader the fact of the man-harness being no more tolerable to the tethered buck through continued use.
I did become most angry, and my grunts and curses did attempt to transmit to the assembled group of moronic fuck-tards and onlookers the extent of my annoyance, and I did begin to kick and strain against the leash, and the pulling at my balls which resulted did make me yowl louder in my passion. The leash was gripped more firmly and the imbeciles who held it did shout excitedly that the bucking younker did fight against his harness. It was wound around a tavern veranda-pole and pulled taught, and my high-heels did dig and scrape in the dust and a slick sheen of sweat did rise on my naked body.
"THE MORE YOU KICK, MY BIG BUCK-STUD, THE MORE YOU WILL BE EFFECTIVELY BROKEN!" A good-natured oaf did cry as he slapped me hard on my butt-cheek.
As these machinations were in progress, I did fail to notice the arrival of a troop of Corsair soldiers on horseback, but these soldiers did announce their disconcertion at the sight beheld before them and after I became aware of their presence, it did take me but a few moments to discern they were most angry also. They seized the leash from the rustic simpletons and wasted no time in hauling off their prisoner.
Thusly, I was relieved from the hands of the drunken yobs, but unfortunately, my gratitude was something I saw fit to suppress. I ran to the movements of the jerking man-leash, and my pace was set very fast, and the riding soldiers did allow for no measure of slowness due to the high-heels buckled at my ankles, and I did scuttle with much hurry, my knees riding high as never before. I did clippety-clop close to the arse of a shitting mare and did receive a generous spray of manure, and I did puff and strain to keep up with no more breath for anger, for I did naturally understand that the soldiers would not tolerate any negligence on the part of their man-harnessed, running buck -- high-heels or not.
Toward the garrison I did run in a desperate, woman's lope, and I did owe my division instructors some measure of thanks for the fitness they had imbued in me and for the numerous pack-drills I had endured.
As we entered the gates of the garrison I did see a row of new prisoners making an exit, and some of these men I did recognise from my division, and they did express much surprise at the sight of me, and I did hear them remark with much incredulity upon my naked, running form, for these men were still clothed and were formed into orderly ranks without the need for man-leashes, and they did comment on my swinging braids of hair and the tinkling bells I did wear, and upon my ringed nips and especially upon the heavy piercing through my cock-head, which they could see, and I did come to realise that these prisoners had already been ransomed for freedom. The situation of these happy men did stand in contrast to my own condition -- too pretty and lithesome and svelte about the waist to be sold off except for a price higher than my division commanders were willing to pay. And I had no doubt that my high-heels did serve to accentuate my attractiveness and that these other prisoners did understand these facts also.
I was drawn immediately to a special room so that a particular Corsair commander may see me, and other important ranks also, and soldiers did bark at me angrily to stand still in my heels upon a small wooden crate where I may be observed by the row of officers as they sat behind a long table laden with important papers and writing-quills and bottles of ink, and the soldiers did make no hesitation in informing these officers of my crimes.
"The prisoner has gone naked to a beer-house and has been observed cavorting and fraternising with the citizenry of the town!" the row of officers was informed, and at this information the officers did assume grave expressions upon their faces.
"Sirs, observe! The prisoner is wearing the footwear of a person prepared for gallivanting in the perversions of a man dressed as a woman!" the officers were told. "And this is further evidence that the prisoner has been swilling and brothel-carousing in a manner which is no good!"
The gold-uniformed commander did blow and huff and grow red, and the other officers did mutter amongst themselves in an agitated manner.
"The Sirs will further scrutinize the manner of the prisoner's hair, and its braidings and lacings, which is proof that the prisoner has been whoring and punking in the manner of a bordello-harlot or twink-for-rent! And it is an unsavoury duty to draw the Sirs' attention to the hairs about the prisoner's exposed man-organ and teste-sack, which have also been braided and decorated in an outrage to Corsair civility!"
At this, many of these officers did appear to expel steam from their ears, and the commander did thump the table in consternation. The accusations against me continued.
"The prisoner is affixed with a variety of twinkly, chiming gee-gaws and gimcracks which pierce his skin and offer disagreeable enticement to the base, degenerative urges of the lower orders of society! Observe the prisoner's ear-lobes -- pierced with dangling bits like a woman's -- and the prisoner's protruding nips, which pout and swell with newly ensconced jewellery -- and especially the prisoner's penis-head, which is purple and blood-flamed with a rude ornament which pushes back the foreskin and dangles with much vulgarity!"
At this juncture, I did begin to utter some words in my defence, for whilst these accusations may be seen clearly and visibly to be true, presented to the court as they were, I did wish to heartily explain their circumstances and context. But immediately I opened my mouth, every person in the room did become suddenly and explosively excited and angry, and a hard rubber ball was shoved into my gob to silence me, and was tightened in place by a strap about my head, and my jaw was forced wide open and my tongue depressed and my voice constricted utterly, and this did make me breath through my nose only and make my mouth open and bulge in a silent scream. Still, my accusers did seek to condemn me further.
"The Sirs will study the shamefully nude condition of the prisoner and his slender stance, and the prisoner will demonstrate a girlish walk and strut for the Sirs in this very room, wilfully gyrating and rebelliously mincing in complete disrespect for the ranks of the good Sirs!"
My cock leash was taken in hand, and unable to protest, I did indeed strut and mince. My high-heels did click and clack up and down before the long table. My bare ass did revolve and turn before the outraged gentlemen. My leash was gripped and twisted extra-specially, so that I may reveal my guilt diligently, and my loins and hips did seek to circulate in finely calculated movements, and the tight man-shackle about my nuts did assist me most assiduously in demonstrating the required enthusiasm in my mincing, and there was a tuneful accompaniment to my display provided by the many little silver bells attached to me, and this whole presentation before the enraged officers did not require any vocal supplement on my part, for the ball-gag did block my throat and keep me silent.
It did seem to me that the prisoner had done quite enough in proving his guilt, but in case any doubt remained, the sashaying, naked buck did continue to prance and mince, and my widened eyes did catch the look of every officer in turn as they remained seated at the table, and I did fathom their looks upon my gracefully moving butt and my swinging meat-schlong as it swayed like a heaving rope with its metal ring.
These officers did discuss amongst themselves the evidence which had been presented before them, and they did presently announce that a punishment would be carried out that mid-afternoon, and the smoothly rippling and undulating bare buttocks of the prisoner did eventually retreat from them, through the door to the outside compound, where I found more stern soldiers.
At the beginning of this chapter I did seek to describe to the reader how I did run and hop in both man-leash and high-heels, and I did employ many adjectives and descriptive words to do so, and this is in spite of the fact I had also previously made these descriptions in preceding chapters. As the reader wearies of these repetitive explanations -- of the cock-shackled young buck in collar and harness, tripping and hopping on his way, stretching to the movements of the leash -- the reader may consider my own weariness at the continuation of these extensions as I ran again -- bopping and boogieing and hopping and skipping, and making use of any dance step which may occur to me and which I may employ to ease my way in the horrid harness. If the leash was jerked thus, I did tango. And if it was pulled in a slightly different way, I did salsa. And if the soldier who held it did move his hand to wipe his nose, I did change my step to a foxtrot. And if he did slap at a passing insect, I did instantly perform a rumba. And so I did waltz and swing and frisk and gambol and perform my jitterbug in a most unmanly fashion. And the buck did jive and bop and bump and grind on his leash, and did strive not for clumsy hoofing, but for fine movements as his balls were pulled along, for the man-leash is a very cleverly designed device and the man must exert himself hard to continue its distinctive choreography. And if the leash be tweaked neatly and delicately in a certain fashion, I did find that I must execute the finest ballet steps, and indeed, how I did wish that I had excluded the soldiering profession from my options when visited by the career-advice officer at my high-school, and instead chosen to join the ballet academy and performed for an appreciative crowd rather than the laughing Corsairs who now leered at me as I wriggled and ran, naked, cock swinging and butt shaking.
I was brought to a central part of the town, the same open square where the bucks had previously been cock-yoked, and the same raised platform did exist here where the populace may view a display of some form or another. The soldiers did waste no time in affixing me in a certain manner.
My ankles were tied to pulleys and hoists, and I was drawn up-side-down into the air, my legs parted widely between two poles -- so widely, in fact, that I did nearly split in two, and I did dangle with my head near the floor of the platform. Thusly, I was exhibited publicly, hoisted to the frame. In front of me, the public may view the suspended buck-youth with his penis hanging up-side-down to his belly, and the ring pierced through it clearly shown. Behind me, although I could not see, the buck's well-muscled backside did bare itself in the morning sun and his smooth hams did glow and gleam as if I were a slab of meat on display. And indeed, early shoppers did visit the butcher's shop, and this I could see in my inverted visage, and they did buy sausages and bacon and whole sides of beef after weighing and testing and inspecting, and I did also see the shoppers finalise their purchase and then come out to view the hanging buck on the platform as if he too were a prize piece of meat for sale. And my shining flesh did make sweat and did oil itself, presenting a premier example of well-toned young beef. And my restrained arms did expose my greasy pits so that discerning shoppers may see the best ribs of beef and flanks of muscle.
As the market-day did mature, more people did arrive, and all these people did seem interested to see the naked buck strung out for punishment and they did view me with some level of intensity. A tribe of emo-kids did appear, and they did seem bored and disinterested in every thing except for the music-iBoxes stuck in their ears, and they did sniff and flounce with much indifference at everything about them, except that I did discern that some of them did view the naked buck on display with some interest. A black-clothed emo-boy did catch my eye as I saw him shuffling across the dusty square, and I saw him pretending to his girl-friend that he was completely uninterested in the young buck hanging by his heels, but I did see that this boy did want to look at my testicles and my cock with its silver ring, and his eyes did dart and flutter at my appearance, and I could do naught but look back at him, as my arms were fixed behind my neck and my legs were wide-spread between the wooden poles.
Then, some skater-kids did come, and they did shuffle about with their skate-boards and their trendy t-shirts in the market square. And a uniformed security guard did draw their attention to the naked buck swinging by his feet and did tell them that any misbehaviour on their part might see one of them similarly strung-up. But these skater-kids could tell that the uniformed security guard was of very low intelligence -- as are most of that profession -- and did posses the brain-power of a zombie, and the most important thing is his life was his uniform which so designated him, and they did spurn and laugh at him without him realising such, and while he did think to boss them around, they did so make him an object of fun, and one pretty skater-boy with long, blonde hair did wink and smile at me in a conspiratorial manner, and for one moment I did feel that I had a valuable ally, and my cock did stiffen.
I swung in the air by my heels for some hours, and the pretty skater-boy with long, blonde hair did return to see me, and to my surprise, we did have a conversation.
For the pretty skater-boy to talk openly with the suspended enemy soldier did seem a somewhat unorthodox and courageous thing, and I did surmise that this boy did harbour a rebellious nature, for he was easily able to converse with his young friends instead, including his pretty girl-friend, but chose instead to talk with me.
"Why are you suspended by your heels in the public square, your legs spread so widely?" said the pretty skater-boy.
"Because I am a captured soldier and must bear the punishments contained herein for the entertainment of the Corsair populace and for the reader of this parchment," I replied to him.
"Then why are you completely naked except for the leather restraint buckled about your neck and your man-parts?" asked the curious, blonde-headed boy.
"Because your Corsair army must restrain its prisoner thusly, and make him hobble and run to its will," replied I.
"In that case," the talkative boy continued. "Why are you wearing a pair of woman's shoes, silver and high-heeled and furnished with little bells and now pointing toward the sky on your inverted feet, where myself and my skater-friends are most careful about what we wear and how we appear, and would sooner stay home than go out in such shoes? Even my girl-friend."
"Because," I answered. "Your Corsair people have seen fit to shod me thus, and I assure you that this foot-ware is not worn by my choice, and I would much rather go about the town square in British Knight high-tops, as you do, with a skateboard under my arm and a superior air of nonchalance."
"Why then," asked the pretty boy. "Is your hair most carefully braided and combed in a manner most unsoldierly, with more bells and little ribbons, so that you may appear as a girl and not a proper prisoner of war?"
"Because," I said. "So that I may appear amusing to persons such as yourself and others. And I take great care in pointing out to a person, such as yourself, that I am not a girl at all, and that I am a fit young man-buck, and this should be obvious to a person such as yourself, who sees me displayed naked in public, with my balls hanging and my schlong exposed!"
"Why," the pretty young skater persisted. "Are your ears pierced with large gold rings? And your nips also? My friends did call attention to this detail, and wonder if you did like to go about with these decorations as a poofter."
"May I assure you," I said. "That this jewellery, whilst fairy-like and most un-manly, was applied to me by certain unsavoury persons who did seek not to enquire whether such things are to my taste, and did pierce my flesh with little sympathy!"
"Your cock is pierced also," the boy observed. "Right through the head, and the silver ring pushes back your uncut foreskin so that all may see your purple meat, and this makes me think that such a thing would hurt."
"This thing does hurt," I replied. "How would you like a sharp bodkin run through your cock?"
The inquisitive skater-boy did continue his enquiries, such is the nature of a young mind presented with new, interesting facts, and the sweating, naked slab of beef suspended on the platform did seem to represent much that was intriguing to the boy.
"You are naked," he cleverly observed. "How is it that you may show yourself in public in such a shameful manner? Do you wish to show-off your lean muscularity to any lady who may come to the square? I'm not gay, but I do understand that ladies like to look at the firm backside of a buck, such as yours that is exposed, and I will now walk around behind you to see this tightly-muscled piece, for my girl-friend did exclaim upon it, and I may ask you how you did come to posses such well-conditioned cheeks."
"You may view my bum," I said. "For it is bared up-side-down in public with little regard for my modesty, but if you want to posses a neat, efficient rump such as this one, then I would recommend you run thirty miles fully packed every day, and I can see that your own youthful backside is small and well-proportioned and suited to such work so that it may become attractive to ladies, even though it is clothed with trendy jeans right now which are slung down low, exposing the waistband of your briefs, and I would say that you should ditch the skateboard and take up a more worthy pastime, such as cycling or surf-life-saving."
"Surf-life-savers are gay," said the boy. "And I don't want to be one, because they display themselves almost naked, such as you are now, and I am at a self-conscious age whereby image and skateboards are of upmost importance, and I am unlikely to follow your advice as to improving my rump, as my girl-friend likes it already and I do not want to attract gay surf-life-savers who would seek to fuck it."
Here, the reader may pause and wonder how on earth the harnessed buck came to be talking of gay surf-life-savers with a petulant skater-kid, whilst suspended naked from his heels in the public square, and in this, the reader may be quite justified in wondering what on earth happened to the scene of a good tawse-whipping, promised for the buck at the end of the previous chapter, but it is necessary to inform the reader that these conversations are not the fruit of an idly distracted author with frivolously scribing pen and ink -- but rather a completely true account of what did happen, and the reader is reminded that a good, traditional tawse-whipping will follow, even if the word-count goes over. As for the skater-kid; will the reader please imagine this kid paddling the suspended, up-side-down buck on his backside -- with the flat end of his skateboard? And, further, perhaps the reader will imagine -- if he can -- that this action is carried out for the favourment of the buck and not as an intended hurt. The reader may well be confused. But the reader is encouraged to read on!
"You're going to be tawse-whipped," the boy said to me. "And you will find this to be a most regretful thing, for I have seen captured bucks in similar situations upon this platform, and heard them howl in dismay, and every cut of the tawse brings forth more howls from the buck and cheers from the crowd."
"Because you are a most pretty thing," the skater-boy continued. "With your braids and your rings, and because I find you a likeable lad, I will deliver to you a useful lecture."
"When the cuts of the tawse are landed, you must shout out the number, for the tawse-master -- or whatever you call him -- will strike your ass with the whip, and he will forget each cut that you do not call out. Thusly, you must shout Sir, One Sir,' after the first cut, and then Sir, Two, Sir,' at the second, and so on, for the fellow is an expert at landing the leather on your bum, but a very forgetful rake, and his maths does not add-up, and no one will remind him of the number of cuts except yourself, and you will beg him to know the total number."
I found this skater-boy to be a friendly person and I had no doubt that the information he gave to me was very valuable, and I did consider this information most carefully as I hung up-side-down and naked before him. Next, he told me an unexpected, but nevertheless, helpful thing.
He consulted with his skater-mates, both girls and boys, and they did laugh and titter amongst themselves in the familiar manner of teen-agers, and they did look at me and laugh again, and they did hold their hands to their mouths to stifle their mirth, and I did wonder whether they laughed at the ring through my cock -- which would seem to be a highly amusing thing to immature minds -- or whether they laughed at my hair-braids and how they made me look like a girl, but then I decided that the naked, swinging buck was a funny thing altogether in its visage and these teen-agers were naturally amused, and it may be familiar to the mature reader how giggling teen-agers can be most annoying, and they do continue to giggle even after the joke is worn out, and they do exhibit this behaviour as if they themselves make a worn-out joke funnier and funnier, and as this goes on, the grown-up bystander becomes more annoyed, and that bystander begins to wonder if the teen-agers are indeed laughing at him, and he wonders whether perhaps his shoes are on backwards, for something, somewhere, seems to be so fucking funny that he nearly throws his briefcase at the laughing teen-agers.
That grown-up who reads the preceding paragraph with some measure of understanding, may now consider my position. For at eighteen years of age, I was a teen-ager myself, but legally an adult, and I was legally suspended naked, spread to the poles, in a public square, and if any sight was to bring about mirth in teen-agers, it was the sight of the up-side-down buck with his dangling penis and balls, and the skater-kids did fall about themselves, so funny this was.
Nevertheless, the pretty skater-boy did seem intent on improving my situation -- without subtracting from the entertainment of his mates -- and he did tell me the following things.
Before the tawse-whip be applied, it be a most beneficial thing for my ass to be paddled in a lesser way, so that the blood rise and my ass be prepared in some way for the whip, and this I knew to be so, for whippings in my division had made this fact evident. There, the wrong-doing cadet is tied naked around a post and his comrades fallen-in to watch, and some of his mates apply birch-branches to his ass to prepare it for the rod, and he is thankful for this, for the sergeant applies the rod in a vigorous manner and the cadet does howl stridently when this is done.
The skater-kid did tell me that I would be tawsed late that afternoon and that he would prepare my backside in some way, and while he told me this, his little friends did continue to giggle, and I did wonder whether the well-being of the buck's ass was foremost on their minds, or whether they were pre-occupied instead with their own amusement.
The square became more crowded and the assembled people did anticipate a splendid show, for spread out before them was a naked youth, up-side-down and sweating with nervousness. People did make excited exclamations to me, indicating their opinion that there was going to be an enjoyable spectacle. They did crush against each other and sometimes stumble and argue, for a tawse-whipping did seem to be a fine thing to behold. There was much noise and celebration, and wine-corks were popped, and I saw at the back some groups ensconce picnic blankets and lay out bread and cheese, and I did remember the rotten cabbages I had eaten and how hungry I was, for as everybody knows, a fit lad can eat much.
The enterprising skater-kid was hoisted to the platform and he did perform the service he had promised. First, though, I must beg for it.
If a tawse-whipping in a Corsair town-centre be anything like a flogging in my division, then it is best that the felon's ass be soundly prepared, and I have even heard that paid bondage mistresses will prepare their male clients' backsides with a wooden-spoon before applying the riding-crop -- but this is what I have heard said, and is certainly not something with which I have had personal experience, and I would, in reality, know nothing of the whereabouts or the conditions of a bondage mistress's parlour and I would certainly not have searched the yellow-pages for such a service, nor made contact with one, or paid ten gold pieces to be paddled with a rubber strop by Mistress Kitty who wears stockings and suspenders and says "naughty boy" to her client, who was definitely not me, as I was not tied to a faux wooden cross-piece and not threatened with such a paddling, because I never went there, nor did I cry out; "Oh, please Mistress Kitty! Paddle me harder, for I have been a naughty boy and spilled the ink in Mistress's fake school-room and I must be punished!." Indeed, I have never even considered applying myself of such a facility and if one of my fellows were to suggest to me that I might go along to a bondage-mistress's parlour then I would spurn such a suggestion, saying that I would never do such a thing, and this is certainly true.
Anyway, I had been tied to my division whipping-post once or twice, and I knew from this that I should be thankful for some preparatory paddling on my ass, and so I did yell above the din of the crowd for some willow or birch, and this is why the young skater did perform his lusty service.
He smacked my ass with his skate-board, hard and with both hands, and I did feel the sting of it, and the crowd did cheer him on. The reader will consider this surprising scene. The fine young buck is suspended up-side-down, naked, by his heels. He is wearing high-heeled shoes. A large crowd is present, consisting of young and old -- the emo-tribe, the skater-kids, mum and dad, the intently curious old-man, the road-workers on a break, the lawyer, the school-teacher, a slobbering drunk here and there -- and yes -- there too was the widely grinning Thamus with his friends, and lo! Here were my fellows! Triss, Riace, Willard, Luk, and Bron! And they were tethered in a line with their man-harnesses, and were forced to see me.
In this scene, the reader is invited to enjoy the spectacle of the skater-kid whacking the buck's ass with his skate-board, and listen as the buck ouches and hoots, for the surface of a skate-board is no soft thing, and this kid had surfaced it with stick-on grip. In truth, I was thankful, for despite my cries to the contrary, I knew that the better my rump was prepared, the better it would receive the tawse-whip when it came. Each slap with the skate-board made a sharp sound and did also arouse enthusiasm in the audience, who hollered its appreciation, and so ripe and fleshed were the smacking sounds as the board landed on my quivering cheeks, that I did begin to wonder if the kid did perform this service not as an act of charity to myself, but for the amusement of himself and his friends, for there was much laughter from that quarter.
The reader may consider the vision of me at that moment, the inverted buck-younker being whacked across his bum with a skate-board while observed by a rowdy throng, and it is my duty to report that when the Corsair soldiers came along, they did put an end to the comedy show. The crowd hushed somewhat, and the skater-lad was thrown off the stage. My hair-braids were cut away with a knife and my nipple-rings were torn out. My high-heeled shoes were stripped from my feet and thrown away, and these things were done to me whilst I hung up-side-down. My silver cock-ring was tied roughly to my pubic pony-tail, which had been fashioned some hours earlier by the hair-dresser-boy, and my man-sausage did now fold itself over, ringed and secured, and I knew that I would never be able to gain an erection while my meat was thusly tied, and it did hurt, due to the recentness of the piercing, sideways through my flesh-head.
The whipping man was big and strong and had a hairy, bare chest, and his hands were as big and as meaty as sides of ham. The crowd welcomed him with some measure of enthusiasm, and he did hold the tawse with a two-handed grip, swinging it about his head. The leather tail was very, very long -- and it was oily and black, and I did feel a most unpleasant sensation in my belly when I saw it. It whistled in the air, thrice about the handler's head, and he did test it with an ear-splitting CRACK and the crowd was moved to cheer, and I did flinch and look into the assembled throng and I saw my friend the hair-dresser-boy, and my other friend the skater-kid.
The author of this parchment has a disappointing confession to make, for this narrative chapter has already gone on too long, and despite the promises of a tawse-whipping made near the beginning, that whipping may well have to wait for the next episode -- and this is a thing regrettable to the suspended buck as well as to the reader, for punishment is a thing best gotten over with, and the waiting for it to happen can be a period of much worry.
Nevertheless, the author has erred in dallying too long talking about high-heeled shoes and emo-tribes and relating the conversations connected with such, and now there is no further room to include the main attraction, and for this, the reader may feel justifiably annoyed, for to come thus far with the naked buck as he hip-hopped upon his heels and hung naked by his widely spread ankles making improbable discussions -- and then be deprived of seeing him soundly whipped -- must surely be a thing most irritating.
What then, if, in the following episode, we see the buck doubly punished for this transgression? No number of whip strokes has yet been specified, and the poor buck waits in terrible anticipation. Shall it be twelve? Many spectators would like to see that number doubled, and may make suggestions regarding this. Know, though, that the tawse-whip is wide and long, and one stroke of it across your backside is enough to banish the thought of any more crime. The burly whip-handler twists the long-tailed instrument expertly through the air, awaiting these suggestions called from the crowd.
Discussion in this quarter was also meant to focus briefly upon the whipped cadet, punished by his sergeant in his division, and this punishment would serve as a useful comparison. The stripped cadet is wrapped about the division flogging post in front of his fellows, and his bare rump is harshly rodded with much sound, and while the cadet may howl and holler, this is a punishment for boys, and the leather tawse-whip is an entirely different thing, and the reader may be interested to know that this oily black whip is coiled in the massive hand of the master-of-ceremonies and held in the face of the up-side-down buck, in order that he may sniff it, and the buck breathes in on the sharp rawhide, and then he is told the following.
"Every time you sniff some leather in future, boy, you'll remember this day and the tawsing I'm about to give you!"
Thusly, I did breath upon the raw odour of the thick leather hide as it coiled and flexed in my face, and I did certainly learn to become acquainted with its lubricated span.
Thoby Andover
thobyandover@y7mail.com