Friday morning at the Reformatory for Boys found a dozen ladies seated in the small auditorium awaiting the morning's presentation. The scarcity of county funding was what had promoted this bi-weekly event. Delinquent, and made-to-appear delinquent boys from ages 8 to 13 would be presented for auction. An hour later there would be another auction for men. The successful bidder would take custody of a boy for a fortnight - two weeks - at his or her home. Every boy at the reformatory was in for this each once a quarter, but those who broke the rules would be outsourced in this manner for an extra session. The boys at the reformatory all dreaded this with a passion. But this accounted for the reformatory having been successful in "reformed" boys by having a low recessionary rate.

At these houses of penitence the boys would have homework to do and bring back with them at the end of their fortnight there. They would also be to put to doing housework.

The first and last day of their fortnight's stay would be days of corporal punishment, as would a day at mid term. Many of the houses also sexually humiliated and abused their charges most anytime at their pleasure. Some even preferred that more than wielding the stick. It was unusual for a boy to mention this though, out of shame. If one did the reformatory would most always accept the denial made by the house master or mistress and then give the tattletale a flogging unless, of course, the boy's body actually bore proof of sexual or physical injury. It was only the boy's body or health that mattered - not talk.

The reformatory would sometimes send an inspector over to a house to insure that the boy was in good health but with his bun bearing the marks of a sound whipping. Though some masters and mistresses used leather straps and wooden paddles, rattan canes were the most prevalent choice, particularly by the ladies. It was known that a couple of clients from Singapore did use bamboo canes, as did a couple from Saudi Arabia. Whips were not allowed. Thus the severity of the beatings varied from home to home. Some regulars were known to be quite sadistic while others, who mainly wanted housework and companionship could be lenient. It was the inspector's task to insure a proper balance.

The auction monetary bids themselves were moderate but did provide the reformatory with a steady stream of revenue in addition to that which the county provided. This cost to bidders at these auctions was more than offset by those masters and mistresses who had a flare for business and video record punishment sessions and sold them to a professional distributor or enterprise. There was a significant underground market on the continent and throughout the Middle East for videos of young English and American boys and girls being caned and abused. Blonds were in particular demand in North Africa. The local government was surely aware of this trade, but looked the other way as long as the DVD reproductions remained abroad in private use. If republished and distributed over the internet the material would be treated just as any other form of illegal child porn.

"Good morning, ladies. I think we have a good selection for you this morning," said the superintendant. "Our first offering today is Eric. Matron, please present Eric for us."

A pale, fair-skinned boy walked off from the line-up to center stage wearing the standard uniform of this reformatory which resembled a sailor suit. There he took a shallow bow while keeping his face up high, for he well knew the rules.

"Good morning ladies. My name is . . ."

SLAP! The matron gave him a slap to the face that sent his sailor cap with its blue ribbon flying onto the floor. "LOUDER."

Quickly Eric retrieved and replaced his cap at an unintended jaunty angle with its ribbon at the back.

"GOOD MORNING LADIES. MY NAME IS ERIC AND I WILL BE NINE YEARS OLD NEXT WEEK."

"Better. Now off with the uniform."

Under the glare of the center stage lighting Eric took off his jumper and kerchief, laid them neatly down on the stage and replaced his cap at a proper angle atop his head. He then took off his short white pants and underpants and laid them down too while facing away from the audience of eager ladies.

"Face the audience, boy. Hands behind your head and spread those legs."

Slowly Eric turned to face the ladies who were seated in the front two rows. These rows were dark save for reflection of light from the stage. Eric stood meekly still in the stark light now wearing only his white shoes, socks and sailor cap with a blue ribbon which color-matched a blue band at the tops of his socks. His hands covered his gentiles.

"Quite a lad, wouldn't you say? A wee-one, but stout enough for house work."

The ladies starred at the boy in silence and studied seriousness. Finally one broke the silence with polite hand applause.

"Head up higher, boy, and get those hands away from your privates. How can our clients inspect you like that? Top of the head with them, if you please."

Ever so slowly the boy complied.

"Spread those legs apart. FURTHER!"

The matron reached down and grabbed his balls and pecker with one hand and raised his chin with her other bringing the two into eye-to-eye contact.

"Not much down there for a boy your age, is there?" she asked him as she shook her hand that cupped his privates.

Eric looked away from the matron only to see a few of the ladies sporting lustful gazes at him. His eyes started to well up.

"Turn around and bend over. Legs apart. More."

As he bent over his cap fell off again.

"You stupid piece of shit; I told you to keep your head up."

With that the matron grabbed him by the hair, spun him around and gave his face a slap on his other cheek. She then replaced the sailor hat.

"Who will start the bidding at a thousand dollars? Well you see that the boy is healthy and unmarked."

"One hundred,"came an offer in a quiet voice from a lady on the second row wearing an oversized yet fashionable hat.

"I can't HEAR you," said the matron to the meek bidder.

"Two hundred," the lady bid, louder. The bidding eventually ended with the boy going for seven hundred fifty dollars to one of the other regular bidders who was readily recognized as she always appeared in her black Arab garb and veil. Eric nearly wilted when he saw her win the auction for he had heard whispers of her special middle-eastern brand of discipline from other boys They were only rumors though since boys who had had endured this woman's unrelenting abuse were too ashamed to volunteer many details to their buddies. It took prodding.

Gretchen waited for the sixth offering of the night - a boy of 11 named Billy. She had been smitten by his look of innocent bewilderment in the photo-book handout that had been given at the door in exchange for the $75 admission ticket. She knew for sure that her patience had paid off when he was presented, front and center, for inspection.

"Next up we have here young master Billy."

By now Billy had walked to center stage with a hand up to shield the bright lights. Fortunately for him the matron mistook that for a salute. Billy took his rehearsed little bow.

"Good morning ladies. My name is Billy and I'm 11 years old," he announced loud and clear.

Still has the voice of a small choir boy, thought Gretchen. I've got to have this one.

As the boy went through the disrobing and body presentation ritual Gretchen's felt her crotch start to stir. The boy's young ass was perfect - nice and plump for his diminutive frame and age. She could already picture tears running down his innocent face as she slammed her cane into his rump.

"Do I hear one thousand?"

"Two-fifty," Gretchen called out.

"Three hundred," came an offer from the old bat at the end of the row who was known to be furiously sadistic. Indeed, she had been barred from bidding once for six months for having burned one of her charges with a cigarette.

"Three-fifty," responded Gretchen bringing a smile from the matron and a sneer from the old bat. Gretchen finally won the bid and boy at seven hundred dollars.

That afternoon Billy was delivered into the custody of Gretchen at her home for his fortnight of service, study, penance and punishment. The German housekeeper, one Frau Fuhrmann, met him at the door and signed the receipt. The stout housekeeper then returned to the driver another, younger boy who had just finished his fortnight's stay at the house. Billy looked down at him for any sign as to how it had gone, but the younger boy turned his head away in shame. The exchange was completed by the driver also signing a receipt for the returned boy and handing it over.

Billy was delivered still in uniform, toting a handbag that held most all of his worldly possessions. He handed the housekeeper a CD video recording of the morning's earlier proceedings much as presenting a gift. The faces of the boys would be blurred, which the state required of all reformatory recordings, but then the CD was a free gift to all those who had won a bid and leased a boy.

As soon as the van left the Frau led him into the large old frame house and up three flights of stairs to a small room in the attic that was windowless, save for two skylights. A 200 watt naked light bulb lit the center of the room. It was hung from the ceiling by a chain and electric cord to further illuminate a cot with a pillow with blankets, a small chest of drawers, a desk and chair, a wash basin and soap beside an unenclosed toilet.

Upon the desk were a water pitcher and paper cup, some paper and pencils, and a bible. A rack with three coat hangers stood in one darkened corner while a camera on a tripod and flood lighting equipment were stowed in the opposite corner. A chain also hung from the ceiling to which a pair of handcuffs was secured. The only other furnishings to catch the boy's eye were the leg cuffs and heavy leather strap and buckle that were secured to the desk, an easy chair with a sign VISITERS, should have read SPECTATORS , and a wall clock.

"This will be your room for the next two weeks. During your stay with us you are to speak to no one unless you are spoken to first. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Sometimes you might see another boy here, but you will not speak to him. Any communication will result is severe repercussions.

"Yes ma'am."

"Any questions?"

"Where do I eat?"

"You will be served a breakfast at 6:30 in your room; a full and nutritious lunch at noon downstairs, but only bread and water for your supper. Anything else?

"Where do I bath?"

"In that basin, there. You will also have a cold shower twice a week.

"But what will I do all day?"

"Housework and homework. Once a week there will be a punishment day for your simply having being sent here. At any time you may expect to be abused, embarrassed and humiliated by anyone here as another part of your penitence. Breaking a rule will of course promptly result in extra corporal punishment. But enough for now. Get yourself unpacked and ready to meet The Mistress for your Welcoming Party rehearsal. And In the meantime," she whispered, "say your goodbyes to your ass. Farewell ass and God's speed."

Gretchen lay in her brightly lit room on a chaise lounge wearing a quilted robe in heightened expectation. Indeed, she was almost quivering now with anticipation. Her 16 year old daughter, rendered ugly by old burn marks on her face and neck, had just turned up the room lights as if turning up the stage lights in a theatre. She had just taken up her position as cameraman behind a video camera with sound that was mounted atop a tripod for stability. The quality of her recordings had reached the level of semi-professional.

"Come in," said Gretchen in response to the soft rap on her bedroom door. With that the daughter started the recording equipment to roll.

Billy entered, urged forward by Frau Fuhrman with his eyes squinting under the bright lights. Gretchen put out her cigarette which she held by a pearl holder, and stood. Whereas the hired housekeeper was a husky, large German, the house mistress was on the thin side, but unusually tall. Both she and Frau Fuhrmann simply towered over the diminutive Billy who was on the small side even for an eleven year old sixth-grader.

Billy looked to his side at the ugly teenage girl standing beside the video camera and microphone. This was the mistress's daughter Helda who gave him a smirking, all-knowing, toothy smile and a little hand wave. The smile rendered her even uglier as her mouth became contorted.

Helda zoomed the camera in for a close facial shot like the pro that she had become. She so enjoyed this job for she was too hideous looking to have any boys freely show the slightest interest in her. This camera work substituted for her lack of dating and as an outlet for her own budding sadistic streak. Though she was not yet permitted to wield the cane herself, she was allowed and even encouraged to have her way with them, toying with them, forcing them to tongue-kiss her burned and scared face for the longest of times.

To digress from the story for moment more really should be said about Helga. Sometimes she would have a kissing session with a boy half nude while fonder ling his gentiles. Depending on her mood and how attractive she found the boy, she would have him tell her over and over and over just how beautiful she was and would demand details of her proclaimed beauty.

At times, to add a bit of spice, she would send a boy off to buy a ginger root - and just that - one ginger root. To the boy's embarrassment the grocer would hand it over with a wink. She would have him prepare it by cutting off one stem that would measure at least four inches in length and removing the outer brown skin. She would have him sculpture it to form an annular groove for his anal sphincter to grip. All the while she would be explaining just how this "figging" would work. How the juices from the freshly cut ginger would slowly seep into his gut after she had inserted it into his rectum, and how it would burn. To the boy's humiliation she would have him recite back to her just how this was going to work.

Afterwards, when the ginger was working with the lad sitting astride her on her lap facing her she would conduct a kissing session at the boy's ass burned, causing him to twitch and squirm as they kissed. Many boys would cry while they kissed on and on with the ginger root working its spiteful but delightful magic. To conclude such a session she would extract the root, hold its butt end with her finger and thumb, and tell the lad to open his mouth. In the now filthy ginger would go, even beyond the back of his mouth just into his throat until his lips were positioned to grip its grove. And there the boy would find himself with the butt of the root sticking out of his mouth and the sides of his lips pulsating and spreading in trying to escape the stinging and to bring added air. By then tears would always be flowing down his cheeks and snot dripping onto the exposed root end. She would then lean back, laugh while pointing her finger at him and taunt: "You look like a pig boy oink - oink - oink. Next time I'll have to bring an apple."

Occasionally she was given the task of administering a ginger-laced enema to a boy that indicated that a buggering by Gretchen or the Frau lay ahead. For this the ladies would use a strap-on dildo that actually was sized more appropriately for a teenager than for a preteen. There wasn't much of a market for small ones. Helda had been given her own dildo but she preferred putting her middle finger up into the boy's ass as he sat half naked straddled and facing her on her lap. Then she would insert it in and out of his mouth and had him suck it clean. Back into his ass her finger would go in repeating the procedure over and over, much as if she were feeding a baby. Often when she extracted her finger she would pass it under her nose, sniff and smile. "ooooh - ahhhha - now that smells nice - real nice - now open up," and back into his mouth her filthy finger would plunge to be sucked clean again. She would repeat the procedure several times. "This saves on toilet paper, you know," she would taunt. But now back to our story.

"Welcome to your new home, Billy," Gretchen said as she put her hands down on the boys shoulder. The boy looked up hesitantly into Gretchen's wide-open eyes below raised eyebrows and broad smile. "Give Mistress a welcome kiss."

Billy raised his head and kissed her on one cheek.

"I said a kiss, boy," she said as she grabbed his chin and squeezed his mouth open to receive her tongue that she thrust down almost into the boy's throat. Billy was so shocked that he instinctively jerked away.

"How dare you, boy! When I kiss you, you kiss me back with your tongue, with enthusiasm. Understand?"

Her fowl cigarette breath made Billy want to puke but he managed to utter a weak "yes ma'am." So they tried again. After what seemed like an eternity to the boy, Gretchen broke it off. Helga had, of course, been recording this initial indignation.

"Okay. Now let's see your stuff. Strip down to your shoes and socks."

Billy looked pleadingly back over his shoulder to see Frau Fuhrman till hovering behind him sporting that sneer of hers.

When he was down to nothing left but his shoes and socks Gretchen sat down on the end of her chaise lounge and ran her hands slowly over the boy's smooth white skin. Then she cupped his balls in one hand and gave them a slight squeeze. She smiled as she watched the boy cringe and his little prick strut out. Billy looked sheepishly over at the girl but fortunately she had her head down busily working the camera and adjusting the sound level.

"I have a welcome meal that has been waiting for you, Billy," said Gretchen as she reclined and spread open her robe. Billy recoiled as he looked at the hairy black bush in the woman's crotch.

"Kneel and put your tongue in your mistress's pussy, boy," said Frau Fuhrmann as she pushed him rudely down.

Billy knelt on the end of the chaise lounge and put his head in Gretchen's crotch. Then she grabbed his head firmly and guided him home into her smelly pit, for she never washed for these sessions. Gertrude nodded to the Frau who brought out a stout, barbed switch.

Gretchen gave Billy her personal oral sex instructions. Once he was up to performing to her satisfaction she nodded again to the Frau who began to switch him on his thighs. Billy gave a reflexive shock to this unexpected treatment. He tried to lift his head only to have Gretchen pull it back down.

Frau Fuhrmann slowly and methodically switched the boy's thighs back and forth, the right one, then the left, then the right. Billy's arms flailed in feeble attempts to fend off the switch only to be rewarded with strokes to his arms and hands. Seeing that Gretchen grabbed his arms and pulled them up beside her head them and held him by his shoulders. Billy sensed that if he continued to suck and lick her clic as instructed that that might bring this misery to an end. Naturally the mistress was well ahead of him on that thinking. Indeed, that played a part in the scenario by inducing the boy to work her clic with enthusiasm.

Gretchen was in heaven as she squeezed the fair eleven year old boy's shoulders while pushing her thumbs into and his arm pits. Her eyes slowly closed and opened, closed and opened, as she watched the Frau methodical switching away at an unhurried tempo. Many strokes of the switch caused the boy's tongue to twitch to her added delight.

Gretchen smiled as she saw the Frau's sneer now changing to wide-eyed lust as viewed Billy's thighs turned red and redder under the slow and unrelenting switching. Crisscrossed lines with tiny barbs and blisters were now beginning to form on what had just been pure white boyish thighs.

"Swish, swish, swish, swish." was the only sound in the room until Gretchen began to morn. Finally she gasped and cried out "YES - YES" as she climaxed, but Billy continued on until Gretchen shoved his head away. Frau Fuhrmann however was now so worked up herself that she continued on with the switching and increasing the pace and severity until Gretchen called it to a halt, leaving the Frau panting. To the German housekeeper's relief Gretchen had her now exchange places.

Once more Billy found his head back down between two female thighs in another smelly pussy which was already now wet. The stark contrast between the lily-white young boy's ass and his scratched red thighs was a delightful sight to behold for Gretchen. For the longest time she just stood there taking it all in. This naturally was driving the eager Frau crazy which Gretchen also knew would happen.

Gretchen rubbed her hands across the roughness of the boy's reddened thighs which looked as if they had been in a briar patch. Then she caressed his as yet untouched little white ass which continued to stand out in sharp contrast to his roughened and reddened thighs. The boy's ass appeared truly virgin - and waiting - as still was the reclined Frau who was silently pleading with hand motions for Gretchen to begin. This tantalizing waiting only added to Gretchen's pleasure for after all she was the boss and the Frau the servant. Finally she relinquished and grabbed a fresh, stout green switch and started to work on the waiting ass to the Frau's relief who had been holding the boy at bay. Only now did she ram the lad's mouth home.

Billy struggled but the large Frau Fuhrmann easily managed to keep him under her firm grip by squeezing her heavy thighs about his head. Then she spread the boy's arm out like a bird in flight. Gertrude continued on with her rhythmic switching back and forth - a forearm slash followed by a backhand slash; a forearm slash followed by a backhand slash - alternating between Billy's two ass cheeks.

Switch, switch, switch, switch, switch. Switch, switch, switch, switch, switch. The camera microphone was catching it all.

The boy's ass reddened rapidly as it gyrated from side to side. It wouldn't be long before the color and texture of his rump would match that of his thighs.

"Harder; HARDER," cried out the Frau as she felt herself approached her climax, but Gertrude refused and maintained her steady rhythm while concentrating on covering all of the boy's butt skin rather than on striking harder, for she wanted to save his ass for the main event which was to follow.

"HARDER! FASTER!!! Begged the German bitch, but Gretchen held the pace steady.

A muffled cry arose from the boy. Suddenly his head shot up. "STOP; NO MORE!!!"

Gretchen then realized that her attention had shifted more to tantalizing the matronly German than to punishing the boy. She shoved the boy's head back down into the Frau's crotch just before the woman were to lost it all.

"You fucking, undisciplined little bastard; that outburst will cost you," she said as she now indeed did by increasing the pace and severity of the switching to Frau Fuhrmann's relief.

Now Frau Furhmann's extended arms and hands, still tightly holding those of the boy's along side of hers began to quiver and flap as if in a mating flight with the boy as she was brought to a climax. Only after that did she let the boy's arms fall and release his head which shot up gasping for air as the Frau's panting began to wane. With their mating flight now over the Frau' breathing slowed to her normal rate. But it was much slower for Billy's breathing to slow for unlike the Frau his mouth and nose had been forcibly restricted. Plus, the Frau's ass and thighs had not been burning under the unrelenting switching.

Billy's mouth remained wide open still gasping for yet more air as tears flooded the cheeks of his face. He swung his head from side now with both his mouth and eyes wide open with both his ass and thighs stinging as if ablaze. He managed to catch a glimpse of the girl Helda who had briefly abandoned her job at the camera, having become so enthralled with the scene. Seeing the boy's look though caused the girl to recover and concentrate on her camera work for this scene was now completed and a next one was soon to begin.

"Got it all?" asked Gertrude.

"Yes ma'am; should be a best seller."

It was at that moment that Billy fully realized that all this would be repeated endlessly into the future as strangers viewed this video of him. What shame; what humiliation. This could go on for years!

After a two hour rest and reprieve while left alone in his attic room with his thoughts and pain, Frau Fuhrmann knocked and opened his door.

"Clean up and be in the Mistress's room in ten minutes in full uniform for your welcome party."

"But I've already had . . ."

The Frau's left hand came down on Billy's right cheek with a resounding SLAP that was immediately followed by a blow with her right hand to his left cheek that sent him sprawling to the floor.

"How dare you back-talk to me. Never do that again! No, that was not the party. That was the run-up - the rehearsal. Now it's time for the main event. With that she walked out, slamming the door behind her.

Minutes later Billy rapped softly on Gretchen's door and was summoned in to find the Mistress standing, leaning back against her massive desk. She was now wearing a black cotton jump suit with a large black belt. Her hands were firming gripping a 38 inch, roughened rattan cane, the color of rust. Billy stood there with his mouth open, horrified by the sight of this stern tall woman in black holding a cane of an unfamiliar color, length and texture. Nothing is more fearful than the unknown.

"Now for your official welcoming party, young man, for what you had earlier was but a mere warm-up to what you are about to receive. That was just for my sexual pleasure. This one now is to insure that you pass inspection should the reformatory inspector drop by. We don't need to hear any complaint that you haven't been punished enough. Helga: Lights, action, camera."

Off came the boy's sailor cap, but the rest of his school uniform oddly stayed on. Gretchen pulled him by an ear over to the edge of the desk upon which a leather cushion was mounted along its edge. She pushed him rudely down bringing his belly against the cushion and his chest flush upon the desktop. Then she had him grip the far edge. Next she flipped a mirror up that was hinged to the back edge of the desk and into a position in front of his face. Billy looked in the mirror at Gretchen in her disciplinary attire.

"Billy, each time I give you a cut you will loudly count it out followed by a 'thank you ma'am.' Understand?"

The boy nodded meekly.

"Good. Then when you are ready for the next you will loudly ask 'Please ma'am, may I have another?' You have 30 seconds in which to do that. Understand?"

Again the boy nodded.

A splat rang out as the cane struck his calves beneath his white shorts.

"WHAT DID I JUST SAY, BOY?"

Billy couldn't think straight as a band of heat formed across the back of his calves.

"I - - - I - - - -"

"I said to call out your words loud and clear. Our video audience must hear you clearly boy for we video record with a sound track. You do want to become a movie star, don't you?

"Now as to your ass I won't have you clinching it, you hear. Start doing that and I'll have Helga fetch a fresh ginger that will go inside your ass and keep you from clinching it while it's being caned. You don't want that now, do you?"

With that she walked back a few steps, turned back to see the boy's face in the mirror and then skipped into a run as she whipped the cane back over her shoulder. Then she whipped it down as hard as she could with a sickening thud against the wide, old and worn leather cushion that extended well to each side of the boy on the desk. "Swissssh - THUD! Her follow-through took her well past the desk.

Billy's brain nearly exploded from the explosive sound and sight.

"ONE," he yelled out as his hands Instinctively his flew back towards his bun only to reverse course when he came to realize that it had been the desktop cushion that had received the blow rather than him.

"Are you trying to cheat me boy? That was not one but in a moment it will be. Hell, you still have your pants on. I never cane on pants or underpants. I'm an artist and have to see the canvass that I work on. Now didn't you just try to cheat me?"

"No, ma'am; I just thought . . . "

"You are not here to think except when doing your homework. Now off with your shorts and underpants. This desk will not do for one the likes of you. No, you need Olde Henry.

"Know what baring the gate is, Billy?"

"No ma'am. I'm not sure."

"You never heard of that at the reformatory? You're a fucking little liar. No wonder you are there. Not only are you a cheat but a liar to boot. Never mind; I'll show you."

Gretchen placed a sheet of paper on the desk beside the boy as he continued to hold onto its far edge. An outline of a boy's butt and upper thighs was printed on the paper. She kept a supply of these in the desk.

"Draw four parallel lines across the butt. Billy stood up and drew them. Good, now crisscross them with an X. Okay, but they are drawn way too lightly. Make them darker - more - more." With that she grabbed the pencil herself and drew back and forth over the lines, darkening them. On and on she went until Billy thought she would rip the paper but instead it was the pencil that broke.

"Now look at what you've gone and made me do. Goddamn you, but look. See, there we have a 4-bar gate with two cross bars for support. You can see wooden gates like this on fences out in the countryside. This is what your ass will look like in a few minutes when I finished barring your gate. You were sent here for a reason - to be punished. And so you will. And so you will. Yes, I'm going to bar your gate good all right.

"You know, Billy, I'm not just a disciplinarian but also an artist -though a special kind of artist. Now most artists draw or paint on canvass or art paper with a pencil or an artist's brush. Often they draw or paint what is called still life, but not me. Oh no, for that's not my cup of tea. No still life for me; no sir re. No, my specialty is creating real life living works of art.

Billy, I create my living and thriving works with whippy canes rather that by painting or drawing on paper or canvass. I create my renditions on the asses of boys just like yours. You might say that I'm sort of like a tattoo artist but unfortunately for me my paintings do not last like tattoos, at least not the originals. And though my original, living - paintings do fade do away with time, what joy they give in me in their creation, and what joy they bring to others in later viewing their video and photographic reproductions. And it not only fence gates that I paint. No, there are other designs that I specialize in creating with my canes such as tit tat toes and bow ties. For butterfly wings I also use plastic loops and curved canes. You see, I consider myself rather the perfectionist."

Now Billy was trembling. "Please Miss," he begged. "I just got here. I've done nothing wrong."

Gertrude put her hand under Billy's chin and lifted his face and bent over to position her own face within an inch of his.

"Don't take it so personally Billy. I love to paint but I must have material to paint with, you understand, and for the present you are that material. Now get yourself over there to meet Olde Henry. If Olde Henry could speak he could tell you many a tale about many a young boy's tail that has been bent over him. Oh yes, many a tale about young boys' tails getting scorched with my special form of paintbrush here. He's my easel, you might say. Many an artful sketch have been drawn using him for support."

Billy looked where the House Mistress was pointing to with that hideous cane. Olde Henry consisted of a raised wooden crossbar or beam with its midsection covered with leather, the height of the bar being adjustable. Each end of the crossbar was supported by a sturdy, inverted-V shaped wooden support. An 8-inch step extended between the bottoms of the support. Boys brought before Olde Henry were made to stand on the step in front of the crossbar and the height of the bar then adjusted for the boy's size after being told to stand on his tiptoes with his legs spread apart. The step thus served to position the boy's ass at an ideal height for caning whether the strokes were to be whipped downwardly, sideways or even upwardly. That Olde Henry was brightly lit for the camera made escape from the boy's humiliation impossible.

Gretchen had the boy face the camera that again was being operated by the girl Helda. "Tell our viewers what is in store for you."

"I'm to be caned."

"How?"

"On Olde Henry there."

"I mean the pattern. What picture will I be creating today on your ass?"

"A fence - a cross-barred fence."

"Wrong. Try again."

"A fence - uh no. A fence gate. A cross-barred gate."

"Ever had that done to you before?"

"No ma'am."

"LOUDER."

"NO MA'AM!"

"Well then, this will be a new experience for you - like a new adventure. We all like new adventures, don't we?"

Not really expecting an answer she now handed the boy a wide mirror with side handles and rubber frame to prevent breakage if dropped.

"During punishment it will be your job to keep this mirror angled so as to see me. Understand, I want to see your face and I want you to see mine. You must maintain eye contact with me at all time. And don't even think about dropping the mirror. You drop it at your peril. And remember your instructions about what to say and the time limit in which to say it."

Billy stood there in front of Old Henry but facing away from it looking at the camera under the glare of the floodlights holding the mirror in front of his gentiles. He now was having trouble recalling exactly what he was to say. Oh God; what if I get it wrong, he wondered.

"Now look into the camera and hold the mirror behind you while you tell us again tell your name and age." again, boy

"Billy Harper. Eleven."

"First day here is it, Billy Harper?'"

"Yes ma'am."

"And what is today's date?"

"I don't know."

"And what are we doing right now?"

"It's my welcome party, ma'am."

"Well for the record today is July 13th. Now are you ready for your party to begin? I know you must be anxious to learn just how good I am as a caning artist, aren't you?"

Billy made no reply but just stood there still wearing his sailor hat, jumper and his socks and shoes with all of his body below the jumper and above his calf-high white socks totally exposed under the bright lights. This made his feel more naked than if he had been completely nude. Both his ass and thighs had now turned into a roughened dark red mass from his earlier switching. He looked up at Gretchen who was waiting for his answer and then at the camera to see the girl laughing and pointing at his prick and balls. He looked down to see that his prick had a hard-on. He didn't understand why.

"Well?" asked Gretchen as her voice rose.

Billy looked back at the camera and girl as tears welled up in his eyes. He lowered his head in a combination of total shame and fear of what he was now in for.

"WELL BOY?" Gretchen almost screamed out.

Billy slowly lifted his eye and looked at Gretchen as tears flooded down his cheek and then gave a meek nod.

Gretchen pointed to Olde Henry. Billy turned, walked a few steps over and mounted the step. Only then did he see that there was yet another camera running that would be recording his face head-on at an angle above the mirror.

Gretchen lusted in the scene. Here before her and the video cameras under the bright camera lights stood this beautiful, petite boy perched now against the bar standing on tiptoes with his switched ass raised high in preparation to receive the cane and with his arms extended straight ahead holding the mirror just beyond the desk. He looked at her in the mirror and she in turn at him although he shown a bit more brightly in the room lighting.

At last she began her warm-up routine by swishing the cane in readiness for her assault. This time though it would be more of a purely sadistic beating rather than the prior one that had been sexually driven. The boy was about to experience unimaginable caning pain while all the time having to maintain total discipline by continually standing on his tiptoes, holding the mirror at a proper to maintain eye contact with his tormenter, and speaking his scripted lines following each impact of the cane.

"Let the welcome party begin," announced Gretchen as she sneered into the rear camera and continued to swish the cane. This flexible cane, though long, was of a thickness designed to bring maximum pain to a boy of eleven without breaking the skin. She would be wielding it with all the force she could muster. Were it not for its lack of thickness it would surely cut the boy's ass to a bloody pulp with her strength and determination.

She took up a position some ten feet behind the boy with her right hand just above its crooked end and the other midway up its shaft. She stood there taking deep breaths as her heart raced and her face contorted into a combination of pure meanness, anger and lust that extended beyond pure sadism. Billy's heart was also pounding and his chest heaving as he viewed her contorted face in the mirror through his blur of fresh tears.

Finally Gretchen sprang forward with the cane raised high. She literally ran at the boy while concentrating her gaze at his face in the mirror. The cane swished down onto the bar just beside Billy's ass. THUD!!!

"aaaHHH" spontaneously uttered the boy in totally abandoned freight. He opened his eyes to see Gertrude come to a halt several feet in front of him. His ass felt num - nothing! He waited for the pain but none came. His labored breathing slowed.

Gertrude returned to face him the top of the boy. SLAP went the palm of her free hand to Billy's face which was immediately followed by another resounding SLAP giving by her backhand.

"We haven't even started and here you are breaking discipline. NO CRYING OUT - YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

"Yes ma'am, I'm - - I'm sorry."

"Plus you CLOSED your eyes and clinched your ass cheeks. Your eyes are to stay open and to be on my eyes at all times. And I see now that you are a fucking cry baby, to boot. Good God; a cheat, a liar and a cry baby."

The sadistic Gretchen, was now working herself up into a frenzy and becoming angry, even though she knew the boy was trying and was simply terrified. She returned to her starting position as the video cameras continuing to roll. Again she did her little fencing-foil dance with its swishing sound of the cane as she took one last look to make sure that both Billy's raised and waiting red ass was unclenched and his face in the mirror remained well lit and covered by the cameras so that all was in readiness.

Yes, this perfectly orchestrated scene was ready with the cute eleven year old up on tiptoe, already sobbing, and with his young switched ass raised at the proper height in anguished wait for the cane. Though she might not earn an academy award, she certainly would be earning good money today. Oh how simply gorgeously his rose buds stood out against the rest of his lily-white skin. A final glimpse of Billy's wide opened eyes and mouth evidenced the fact that this time he knew it would be the real thing.

This time during her run-up Gretchen actually leapt up into the air as she threw her full weight forward and viciously swung the cane down, snapping her wrist at impact with the child's skin. Her momentum and trained arm produced a full follow-through as the cane smashed right into the center of the boy's ass with a resounding TWACK!!! Instantly a white, horizontal cane line appeared on his already switched-red ass meat. The flexible cane reverberated back to reveal a crease turning white as it expelled the intruding Raton.

It took a full eight feet before Gertrude was able to bring her run-up to a halt and to look back. Apparently the boy had not yet realized just what had happened, what with his expression of bewilderment and not knowing quite how to hold the mirror with Gretchen now off to one side in front of him. And then it came.

It was if a line of fire had suddenly erupted across his ass, only the fire grew and grew and grew in intensity and ferocity, moment by moment. All mental thought came to an end under the ever-intensifying line of fire that burned horizontally across the center of his ass. With such an open initial target to aim for on her first stroke Gertrude had been able to put everything she had into it with abandon as to aim, the size of the junior cane being the only constraint. Billy lost control as his cute little sailor cap fell to the floor and one hand flew off the mirror handle reaching for his flaming rear.

"aaahhhhaaaa (gasp) AAAAAAAAAA (gasp) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!" came out of his mouth but not quite as a full scream as his lungs and mouth gasped for air.

"How dare you?" said Gretchen as she walked back to him while trying not to block the light on his face. She bent down with her face just inches from that of the boy.

'HOW DARE YOU?" she screamed. 'You are to COUNT out the strokes followed by a 'THANK YOU MA'AM.' Didn't you remember? And you sure as hell DO NOT SCREAM, you fucking, undisciplined little piece of shit. And you also let go of the mirror, I see." With that she brought down the calm on the palm of his free hand.

Billy hardly heard what she was yelling at him for his entire brain remained concentrated on his flaming ass. Yet more tears flooded his face.

"We shall start over. Now put your cap back on and get back into position. That one of course will not count. So this today will be a five bar, crossed gate.

Billy dismounted and retrieved his cap, all the while trembling. Then he looked up pleadingly at his new mistress who in return banged the cane down upon the pad. Billy retook his position but found it hard to grasp the mirror handle with his burning hand.

Gretchen returned to a position behind the boy. The thin railroad track lines across the middle of Billy's virgin white ass were now in the process of turning from white to a fiery red. When she gently touched the forming welt, Billy jumped. Gretchen gently moved her fingers back and forth a couple of time along the hot rising welt line. Then without a word she returned to her starting position several feet behind her young prey.

She looked at the boy's tearing eyes which were trying to focus upon hers in the mirror that again was held by his two small hands but which was tilted to one side now since one hand now burned too much for him to grip the mirror handle firmly. He tried to remember what he was supposed to say, but that was hard to do with his ass on fire. Suddenly he realized that he was not up on his tiptoes and that his ass was clinched. He corrected these flaws just in the nick of time.

Gretchen acknowledged his correction, relaxed at tad and blew him a kiss with a smirk. The mirror began to shake as the boy's hands shook. Billy wiped his face on his uniform to clear away the tears.

Gretchen waited until the mirror was back in position and Billy's hand-trembling had ceased. Suddenly she sprang forward like a cougar attacking its prey. Normally she would place a penalty stroke directly upon the offending one, but since this was the child's first day, she deferred. The cane flashed viciously s down at full force to land just a hair beside the first glowing line of torment. It took time enough for Gertrude to come to a halt several feet past the boy for her to hear a response other than the resounding SPLAT of the cane.

"AAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaa (gasp) NO NO! (gasp) NO NO! Oh God!!! NO!!! (gasp) GOD!!!

Gretchen returned and looked down on the boy who somehow had managed this time to hold onto both the mirror and his sailor cap. He looked up at her through a continuing flood of tears.

"Doesn't count either. Let's try again, shall we? I hope we're not going to have to be at this all day."

Gretchen looked angrily at the boy's ass as it rocked from side to side against the bar. The first cut was now darkening and thickening while the second one was turning from white to a flaming red. Again she gently traced the two railroad tracks with her fingers. She returned to start and once again raced forward. "THWACK!"

At the end of her run this time she only heard gasping sounds from the boy as his lungs demanded air and his brain searched for a vocal response. Finally it came as a shout.

"ONE! ONE! THAT's ONE, mistress. I . . . I . . . and . . . and . . . I THANK you."

"There - there we are, boy. Now that wasn't so hard, was it? I will let that one count. Isn't that great? Perhaps we'll just have a six bar cross gate painting."

Billy's mind struggled to recall he had to yell out next. Then it came to him. 30 seconds. Oh God, how much time was left?

"PLEASE MA'AM, MAY I HAVE ANOTHER?"

Gretchen smiled. Ever so slowing the beating proceeded with the sadistic Gretchen relishing every moment of it. God I love this she thought as she watched the eleven year old struggling to maintain control while standing there against the rail on tiptoes with the mirror in hand and his head held high as he tried to remember all the things he had to do for a stroke to count. There were so many to remember to do with his having to remain up on his tip toes, not to clinch his buns, maintain the mirror in position eye to eye contact with his tormentor, and his call-outs of the correctly added number of counts and to ask for his next one within the 30 second time limit. As if all that was not too much in and of itself but no, all to be remembered and done with his ass in flaming agony. It felt as if his brain was about to explode. It was simply overloaded.

To Gretchen's regret the horizontal bars on the boy's ass were soon done. There stood, literally stood, the requisite parallel four red welts plus the two others that had been added to the ones not counted.

It was easy to tell the order of their delivery by their colors. The first one was now a dark red, much like the color of beets with its rails now transformed into a single raising welt. It really looked wicked and Gretchen was actually surprised that the junior cane had been capable of having inflicted it. The other five were in their various stages of changing colors and shapes with one couple now having merged and in the process of turning purple.

"Very good, Billy. You now have your six bars."

Thinking it was now over the boy got down from his tiptoes and turned around.

"Just what are you doing? We still have to make the cross - the X. You DO remember?"

Billy stood there facing Gretchen and the camera, stunned. It wasn't yet over. He just stood there in silent disbelief with his little pecker still at attention, prompted from his stress and anxiety.

"Now get back in position. I'm afraid that these final two will smart a bit more than the others. You just tell me when you are ready." With that she took away the mirror leaving Billy not knowing what to do with his now free hands. Gretchen put his hands together as if in prayer and straightened his head to look forward.

Slowing Billy's trembling resided. "I'm . . . I'm ready, Mistress." Anything to end this torment, he reasoned.

Gretchen used her backhand for the first slash with no run-up. Instead she took a full corkscrew twist of her hips and torso as she raised the junior cane high and behind her. Then she uncoiled with the speed of a rattlesnake. Her follow-threw sent herself nearly sprawling to the floor.

The impact sounded like a pistol shot. There was no response from the young lad other than full shaking of that portion of his torso which extended beyond the bar, much like he was having an epileptic fit. Finally his convulsive spasms of agony slowed enough for him to utter a faint "Five, thank you . . . you . . . you, ma'am."

"It's seven, not five, boy, but I will forgive you this time."

Gretchen moved to the boy's other side for the final blow. She was still panting. This last one would be delivered with her stronger forearm. She just hated the fact that it had to be delivered with this junior cane rather than with a heavier and thicker senior cane.

Gretchen looked at the boy's face in the mirror was now was contorted with his lower lip twisted down. In turn Billy saw Gretchen's face with her mouth wide open as she gasped for yet more air with her bosom heaved. She patted the cane studiously along her intended target line and then coiled into another full-body corkscrew and held position. For what seemed an eternity the two of them just looked into each other's eyes in the mirror. Finally she released her coil and smashed the cane down precisely when she had aimed with a thunderous THWACK! Billy fell off his tiptoes and then off the step and down onto the floor as he emitted a screech of the child that he was.

Gretchen watched while still panting as the boy spun round and round on his side on the floor, grasping his stricken ass.

What a feast to behold. The boy now bore a six-bar crossed gate with eights cuts in total. The points where the cane lines had crossed one another were all now raising individually much like pimples. At each crossover point the pain there felt to Billy as if nails had now been hammered into his lines of fire. The only respite, though he did not yet realize it, was that the crossover point of the X itself had mercifully occurred in the gap between his two ass cheeks.

From an artistic point of view here rendition had turned out less than perfect. That was due to the fact that there were two fence rails that had doubled up where the cane had landed upon a prior mark. The boy's ass had been just too small for a six bar gate. A bigger canvass had been needed for that rendition.

Slowly the boy's spinning slowed to a halt and he lay still in the fetal position with one hand on his ass and one covering his face, whimpering. Gretchen gave a whack to the hand on his ass which he then also moved to his face.

Gretchen stood there for the longest time watching the boy's whimpering on the floor, totally broken. Her own breathing slowed. The ensuing silence was finally broken by a knock on the door. It was Frau Fuhrmann who had been listening intently just outside the room.

"Come in; I've finished the painting. Take it back up to the attic."

"Ointment?"

"Sure. I guess I shouldn't be having all the fun, she whispered.

"Billy, Frau Fuhrmann will now take you back to your room to apply a soothing salve. We don't want any infection, do we?" She looked up and gave a knowing wink at the stout matron.

"Get your clothes on and come with me child. And keep those hands away from your bottom, commanded the Frau.

Back up in the attic the matron had Billy strip. The "soothing salve" was on the desk waiting in a la bowl. The ointment looked like a gooey jell and to Billy it bore the promise of relief for his flaming ass.

"Get up on the bed on your knees. Chin and elbows down on the bed. Good, now spread your legs."

Billy looked back over to see the matron put on a rubber glove, much as would have a nurse. Then she brought the bowl over and set it beside the boy. With the gloved hand she coated the boy's gated ass completely with a thick coat of the goo. Then she coated his thighs and finally his balls too for no apparent reason.

"Stand up," she instructed as she carried the bowl of goo over to the desk and striped off her glove. Then she handcuffed the boy's hands behind his back to the chain that hung down from the ceiling.

As Billy stood there forced to bend over by the height of the handcuffs he began to feel the relieving cool of the gooey jell slowly turning to a nice and welcomed sensation of warmth. Thank God, he thought, what a relief. But then the warming continued. Warmer and warmer became his ass and thighs - and his balls. Warmth now became hot, and then hotter still to reach the stage of scorching. Billy' entire ass, thighs, and yes, his balls too, were all ablaze, feeling as if they were being cooked.

Frau Fuhrmann went over and sat down in the easy chair. She lit up a cigarette as she watched this private scene, concentrating on the boy's facial expression as his ass, thighs and nuts burned and burned and burned and burned.

"AUGH. AUGH IT'S BURNING ME! HELP. HELP ME!!!! he cried out, but the ointment continued to do its dastardly work in having set, and now maintaining Billy's whipped skin, ablaze.

"It's supposed to sting a tad, Billy. That little burning sensation you feel just means that the ointment is working properly. Perhaps I should have told you that it might sting a bit, but as the Mistress said, we don't want any infection, do we?" The Frau was now really enjoying the private show along with her cigarette.

"PLEASE STOP. Oh God. HELP! PLEASE HELP ME!!!" Billy whimpered as he danced about from one foot to the other, his cuffed hands behind his back causing his body to spin. "Make it stop! Oh, GOD, take it off!" But the burning continued and even seemed to increase on his testicles.

The Frau took a slow puff. Yes, she really was going to enjoy this new addition to the mistress's stable of boys for some time. This boy was such a cutie.

On and on it went as Billy did the only he could do - jump and hop about with the chain extending from the ceiling down to his handcuffs behind his back continually bringing him back into position in front of the housekeeper. The Frau continued to take it all in - this "dance of fire" - as she and Gretchen were prone to calling it.

The naked eleven year old spun and hopped, spun and hopped, spun and hopped, with his little prick still hard as a rock and raised even from his bent-over position as if it were trying to escape from his flaming balls.

On and on continued the dance of fire went to the Frau's gratification as she slowly enjoyed her smoke. I really should add some music, she thought. The boy's slow spin-dance brought his greased-slick, cross-barred ass time and time again into her direct view as the light reflected brightly off that shiny part of his body and his cross-bar raised welts of many colors.

The cross-over points of the crisscrossed bars had now swollen just to the point before which they would pop and bleed. Frau Furhmann was always impressed with Gretchen's expertise in producing the greatest cane-marked patterns and pain on young asses without breaking the skin. A week from now this new-boy's ass would be ready once again for the cane - for her own cane, oh how she so hoped. Life is good she thought as she blew out one last smoke ring and extinguished her cigarette.

There were, of course, many other types of torments yet in store for Billy. He would be being introduced to them, one by one. And the Frau would be on hand to enjoy most of them.

Finally she un-cuffed the boy's hands and gave him a towel to clean up with.

"Today's punishment is now over Billy. Now you can enjoy your supper and retire for the evening."

Billy flew to the basin, socked the towel in cool water and rubbed the "ointment" first off his balls and then off his ass and legs. With that done he looked at his waiting "supper" which consisted of three slices of dark bread and a pitcher of water and paper cup. But food was the furthest thing from his mind. He walked to the cot and climbed in.

Frau Fuhrmann set down beside him and stroked his hair gently.

"Your first day is over, child. Most boys believe that the first one is the worst, and yes it may be. Your next day of punishment will not be for another week unless, of course, you were to misbehave. Now I know that you must be concerned about the video-taking of your ordeal, but those recordings will remain here and be released only to a very few of our patrons and friends. All of the others will be sold - - uh - - - that is - - - distributed, to people in far-away lands that don't even speak our language. So sweet dreams; your supper will remain over there until you decide to eat it."

With that the housekeeper gave the boy a goodnight kiss and left the room, softly closing the door behind her. Suddenly she felt exhausted. It had been a long day. She needed a synapse.