One Month Later ...
Sometimes I wake up early. I don't know why. I knew today was Kyle's turn at the whipping post, but I couldn't believe that I actually might want to watch that beautiful guy being whipped. However, I couldn't get the image out of my mind. No ... maybe I'll just go out for a sunrise walk. Yeah, I was in denial.
I walked toward the town square. Sure, in the middle of the square was a whipping post and there were already some tourists standing around, but ... well ... maybe I'll just hang around to see what's going on.
I didn't have to wait long. Kyle the actor was being escorted towards the whipping post by a 19th-century prison warden on each of his smooth arms. He was dressed as he was before wearing only a pair of linen three-quarter-length drawstring pants. Kyle was shirtless and barefoot and looked better than ever. The acting looked very real and tourists began to gather more closely.
A placard near the whipping post read: TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO SLAVES CAME FROM MANY DIFFERENT COUNTRIES. OUR SLAVE TODAY CAME FROM SOMEWHERE IN NORTHERN EUROPE AND WAS SOLD INTO SLAVERY BY HIS POOR IMMIGRANT PARENTS WHEN HE WAS JUST TWELVE YEARS OLD. HE IS A HOUSEBOY FOR A RICH PLANTATION OWNER AND IS NOW GOING TO DEMONSTRATE A TRADITIONAL FORM OF PUNISHMENT. IT WAS TYPICAL FOR OLDER TEENAGE BOYS OF HIS AGE TO BE TIED TO WHIPPING POSTS AND WHIPPED ON THEIR BARE BACKS JUST LIKE ADULTS WERE.
The two prison warden actors brought Kyle to the whipping post, raised his arms, and tied his wrists together over his head in the ropes hanging from the top of the post. His elbows were able to bend only slightly. Another prison warden actor walked toward Kyle's bare back with a small bullwhip in his right hand. Tugging on the ropes, stretching out those gorgeous sinuous arms, twisting his slender torso ever so slightly, Kyle turned his head as much as his could and gazed at the whip with a fearful look on his face. Beads of sweat could now be seen trickling down the boy's smooth sides. Damn, he's good! I had to hide behind a planter to hide the hard-on I was getting.
Finally the whip was raised and ... SMACK! ... Kyle's arms stretched out, his knees bent, his head fell back, and he let out an agonizing cry. The whipmaster let the boy regain his composure before raising the whip again. After about a minute, Kyle's elbows hugged the whipping post as he bowed his head resting his forehead on the old wood. Again came the swoosh of the whip and ... SMACK! Kyle jerked his young tight frame and yelled out.
The crowd was wide-eyed and awestruck! This attraction on their tour was between early morning butter churning and four square quilting. Then they would break for a pioneer picnic. During afternoon they'd tour some houses, of which mine was one.
The lashes continued, ten in all, until Kyle feigned unconsciousness and let himself hang from his wrists, his bare teen boy chest pressing into the whipping post, his head fallen back, his mouth half open, his eyes half closed.
The two other prison wardens and lifted the boy up and turned him around so that he was now facing out from the whipping post. Kyle's head fell forward, but stirred a bit. He sure looked good with his arms stretched out tight above his head, his smooth teen boy chest, now glistening with sweat, puffed out, his stomach more concave than usual, the waistband of his pants slid down just a bit from his gyrations against the post during his whipping, and his knees slightly bent.
The crowd slowly dispersed and I approached Kyle.
To be continued ......