Ken and John are always docile when the time comes for me to punish them. That’s just as well really because there are after all two of them. If they wanted to make things difficult they undoubtedly could. Actually, let’s face it, if there were only one of them and it came to a fight either of them could probably knock me flat with a single punch.
They would never do that, they have been brought up too well. They have been members of my church all their lives, I think. I am the pastor and they know that I am doing God’s will. So, when they are lying face down and I am flogging the skin off their backsides they know it is not really me it is God wielding the cane.
I have to punish them often and there is a certain ritual about it. I always use a moderately thick whippy rattan cane. Spare the rod and all that. They are easy to come by on e-Bay and I have quite the collection. After years of experience I should say that the best way to deliver an exemplary thrashing is with the miscreant face down and flat on his stomach. That might surprise you because when we think of a caning we probably recall the headmaster of old, who might require a boy to touch his toes or bend over a piece of furniture; a desk or a chair perhaps.
What I find is that if a young man presents himself in that fashion, you have to aim the cane at an angle in order to connect with the stretched posterior and you don’t get such a harsh stroke. A terrific way to ensure maximum efficiency is to get the young man face down over a desk or table top, with their torso, arms and legs stretched out.
If the punishment is to take place at the home the best thing is to have him lay face down on his bed. Some of my fellow pastors place a pillow under his belly to raise the bottom a little, but I am against this practice as in my view it is just as inefficient as bending over the back of a sofa. If the young man is as flat as he can be you are able to stand over him and raise the cane high above your head and flog it down into his backside with as much vim as you require.
Sometimes, but not in every case since it depends on the nature of the offence committed, I whip the swishy rattan cane down with such energy that I sink the rod deep into the meat of the buttocks. It is as if I am trying to get the cane to enter the young man’s body at the crown of his buttock and exit through the front of his body. Believe me the cane cuts deep into his flesh leaving a painful welt that will throb for days to come and be visible as a mark for two to three weeks. I fervently believe if a job is worth doing it is worth doing well.
In my own case I require the young men I am to beat to strip off all of their clothes down to the underwear. I understand the view that making him strip entirely naked adds to the humiliation required of such punishment, but I must confess I am extremely uncomfortable around naked men. The thought, never mind the sight, of what a man has between his buttocks makes my whole being shiver.
So, underpants remain on. I cannot believe, although I have no evidence to support this, that a thrashing on the completely bared buttocks is more painful than one across thin cotton briefs. That is my view anyway and since I am in control of these situations, my view prevails.
I have been required to cane Ken and John collectively on a number of occasions of late. I am happy to report that each time I order them to present themselves for another lashing they do so without fuss or rancour. They clearly understand it is God’s will that they be punished, for God, through the good providence of my church, is trying to save their souls.
Ken and John are homosexuals. My church believes that homosexuality is a deviant disorder and those that practice it are sinners of the highest order. It is not always clear to us why a person becomes tainted in this way, after all there are many other sins besides homosexuality. My church has a course of action whereby homosexuals may be cured of their sin. It involves much prayer and self-control on the part of the unfortunate victims.
Ken and John have been undertaking this cure for some months. Alas, I have to report that the two young men at present lack the self-control needed to successfully return to a straight and narrow lifestyle. That is why once again I had to flog their backsides until they resembled raw hamburger meat. In this way, they will be encouraged back onto the path of righteousness. Ken and John live together – that is to say they share the same apartment – they do not live as man and wife. At least they are not supposed to. Because of this close proximity of living conditions, it was possible for me to punish the two twenty-three-year-olds together at the same time.
They were stoical when I informed them of my intentions. They were both wearing almost identical outfits of ripped jeans and sparkling white tee-shirts. They quickly divested themselves of these as I unwrapped two crook-handled rattan canes from a large Marks & Spencer plastic carrier bag that I use to transport my discipline implements. They had seen – and indeed felt – these canes before but I noticed that Ken’s eyes widened like saucers at their sight. John was more reserved, but I saw his large Adam’s apple throb at his throat.
I lay the canes on a small armchair in the corner of the room and slipped my jacket from my back. Ken and John watched intently as then very slowly I unbuttoned the right sleeve of my grey shirt and turned it up one, two and three times until my arm was bare from above my elbow to the tips of my fingers.
“I believe you know what is required of you,” I said softly and nodded at the bed. Indeed, they knew. It had been nearly three weeks since they were in a similar position. I did not feel it my place to ask, but I assumed that the marks from that session had now cleared. Their bottoms would be unmarked. For now, at least.
They lay side by side, their bottoms perfectly placed to receive a lashing. Sometimes I make them approach the bed from opposite sides, in that way they are face to face and can, if they so wish, see the desperate pitiful gleam in the eyes of their partner in crime at the moment the rattan bites deeply into the flesh. From my position behind, or to the side of the young men, this is a pleasure I am not afforded.
Beating them side by side works equally well. There is enough room for me to swish my cane to my heart’s content before I lash it down. Both Ken and John have terrifically meaty backsides. They seem to prefer to wear pants that show this to the fullest effect. When they lay waiting for me to do my worse the smooth cotton invariably clings tightly to their round cheeks. If it doesn’t I tug at the waistband until the pants fit like a second skin and their buttocks are separated. Once they are in position I make my final arrangements.
These are few. I first select which of the two canes I brought to use. They are both a little over three feet in length, not counting the crook handle. One is a little thicker and denser than the other, but each is supple and can bend between my hands should I decide to indulge in some amateur dramatics. Both are yellowy-brown in colour and have had the notches that appear every three or four inches along its length sanded down.
Once I have my cane I pretty much get on with it. I stand by Ken who is the nearest of the two to me; I take my aim, I raise the cane towards the ceiling and bring it straight down with tremendous force into the centre of the young man’s bottom. It is rather like beating a carpet. I have noticed that Ken and John react rather differently to a thrashing. Ken, who is wearing the dark blue underpants in the photograph, shuts his teeth and balls his hands into fists. This seems to help him to absorb the pain, although sometimes he will emit almost silent groans.
John on the other hand is far more energetic. As soon as the rattan bursts his flesh he will throw his head back and yelp like a little whipped puppy before pummelling his fists into the mattress around him. By the second or at least the third cut he is openly weeping. Ken, however, remains dry throughout. I don’t recall ever seeing a tear on his cheek during such punishment sessions.
I deliver ten lashes and then I stop. By this time, John will be wriggling and writhing while sobbing uncontrollably. Ken will be taking deep breaths, gulping in draughts of air, rather like he was a beached whale. From my position above the two young men I can see through their skin-tight pants that thick welts have formed across their buttocks. When they peel down their pants they will be greeted by the sight of dark red lines that criss-cross like a railway junction.
I take my leave quickly. My jacket is on and my canes are back in the plastic bag but Ken and John remain face down in shared agony. I see myself out of the apartment and make my way home. I don’t know what Ken and John do once I have left. I expect that they pray together and praise the Lord for His mercy. What else could they do at such a time?
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More stories from Charles Hamilton II are on the MMSA website
Charles Hamilton the Second