There is a lot of attitude about Alejandro as he sits there without a care in the world. He has that brat look that they all get from time to time.
But that soon changes when he finds himself OTK getting a good spanking.
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Wearing just boxers he is hardly dressed for the attitude he has, it makes the spanking hit home pretty quickly. He is a struggler though and after the first set on his underwear he is soon bare assed and protesting a lot. His legs are kicking around and he is wriggling a lot.
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There are some great shots of this lad as he moves around and gets his walloping and that makes for a super session for this lad
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I must leave a comment the position and the angles and shots of the guys legs in different positions is very good and makes a change to the standard sometimes one needs to change things up a bit. … Who agrees?
I can concur that variety in angles is the right (non-woke) kind of diversity,
just as adorable Alex’s lovely Latin looks make a welcome, warmely-welcomed addition to the BBFC spankees stable.
Hell on his heavenly-hunky Hispanic-highborn-hottie-hide, this is nothing like what he signed up for as ‘superb Summer treat’! As Andalusian aristocratic adolescent, awesomely-abundantly acquainted to awfully-ample and ably-afflicted ancestral-azote-application to his angelic-adorable anal-area at-home and assorted attrition-awakening arse-agony as-appropriately anywhere-ancestrally assigned, Alejandro absolutely adored an avuncular assignment as Andalusian ‘ambassador’ to the annual aristocratic arse-agonizers-exchange program, an exceptionally-exclusive Erasmus-extension to exchange excellent-practises in eerily-exposed-endurance, evidently endlessly-eager-excellency-educator-elders-enjoyed, among Euro-aristocrats.
Subsequently to sagely stripping, squirming and suffering a savagely-severe series of Scandinavian-style spanking-sessions from Swedish-and-so-on stricts Sirs-seconded stripling-similars in Sevilla all endless Easter holiday, he was heaven-happy to head hereto before Helsinki to have his hider-turn this holiday, heeding helpless hotties he-hood-helplessly-heightened to howl having their hapless hurdies hits-heeps-hurt hunderdfold by his host-hailed ‘hard-handed helping’ hand, all-attire-abandoned-arses-aching as the aristocratic Andalusian azote is at-least-as-ably-and-amply applied assuring abundant arse-ache and appropriate attrition-assurances.
Alas for Alejandro, his Swedish host, a duke of royal descent, literally pulled rank: his ‘sovereign bloodline’ wasn’t to be stripped or even spanked by ‘common aristocrats’, so Alejandro, nicknamed Alex, was accompanied by Axel, his Swedish-Spanish uncle, whose adult aristocrat-arse still aches awesomely-awfully anytime he ruefully remembers the ruthless-rigid-rearing-regime-required abundant all-attire-abondoned azote-anal-area-afflictions applied to his abject adolescent-then arse on annual Andalusian holidays, as Alex always gets his glorious globes ‘gaily-glowing’ grilled gruesomely-good at home now, as the exchange-organizers agreed they have exactly the (evidently endlessly-elders-enjoyed) eerily-exposed-endurance experience excellently enabling examplary exhibitions: instead of spanking his Scandinavian counterparts, Alex will perfectly-perilously present his ‘petty parentage’ posterior for properly-pitiless pantsing and pain-purple-pounding presentations of protocol-proper peerage-pup-pain-punishment, and the prudish protestant palace preacher prescribes plenty of privately-performed puerile-private-parts-privacy-privated performances in each princely puppy’s or paternal private presence, half an hour each on the hour, he’ll be howling helplessly humblehound-he-hood-heeded having his humbly-heightened-Hispanic-hottie-heinie hell-houndishly hunderdfold-hits-hurt here by hand and azote all day, over and over till bedtime, without any time for Stockholm sightseeing, visiting the palace only by shuffling shorts-on-ankles to strip and be spanked all over at the next snooty Swede’s stately suite, ever-more-miserably meeting meaner-cutting meekly-mounted-man-mounds-meat-martyring as the clothless-comital-cur-cones-crimson-castigating cuts keep cruelly-crossing, hence hit his hurdies-hide ever-deeper.
He knows better then to backtalk his betters, so submissively sighed sadly-softly ‘Si, señor’ when senior strict Sir simply sentenced his studly son sans-sin to the sadistic-seeming spankophile-sufferance-subject-substitution scheme, yet when Axel picked him up from an early flight couldn’t help protesting when told the two hours extra time was to be spent not freely but(t) punitive-procedure-practicing in Axel’s room, after a manual OTK warm-up (mostly for Axel) perfecting the pleasing presentation for protocol-proper princely-public’s predatory pleasure, amply adding another azote-affliction-cycle to his already-absurdly-abundant arse-agony! All it alters is adding ear-pulling and a crossly-cursed comment to his father, so the azote will be waiting at-home afterward.