Jock Spank – Male Spanking

Nick has such a gorgeous and spankable ass!
It’s a pity we don’t get to see his face…

While most knaves are somewhat bashful to bare (‘bove-all for beatings) bottom-blazing-bound brat-butt, balls, boy-hole and/or boner, meanwhile putting on a cheeky face in probably-pointless puerile painful-posterior-punishment-pertaining parlor although that may incur extras for backtalk, devout angelic orphan Nick was raised better (?) by a priest-uncle obsessed with guilt and showing sincere shame as the prime-prized prerequisite to earn forgiving after attritely-stripped submission to plenty of pittiless paternalistic CP, on the bare and in the bare, as the knave was kept completely-clothless (indoors, that is; usually with long grounding) after any ample-and-able-abject-adolescent-arse-agony, ablaze on-display hands-on-head and after-that -mostly on countless chores duties- till his red-raw-ravaged rebel-rear returned to pristine pink, which rarely actually happened before incurring a next frockless-fledgling-fanny-flogging for a foppish flaw or fault, so Nick never got the fine feel for puerile prudery, full-nudity feeling fully-normal, even more then a swats-sensitized sorely-sorry starkers-stripped-squirt-seat, which one always remains instinctively eager to forget about or at least divert from as soon as the awefully-acute arse-ache allows any other focus. Uncle being a brutal bare-balls-brat-butt-blisterer and seriously-sterner sermon-shouter, ‘specially spelling-out the shivering squirt’s sins spelling satanic sadism shockingly surpassing the simple sting of sound spanking, Nick went shame-faced as soon as Sir (or someone spanking-seconded, nearly all elder males becoming the boy’s bare-butt-beating betters) shouts his sinner-name, stripping if not starkers and hiding his head in his hands, hoping for the hated hissing and hotter-hellfire-harder-hurting-horrorstory to end and allow him to hop happier in he-hood-heeded-heightened hiding-position for a harsh hiney-hell-hot-hitting-hits-heep, half-as-long, hence half-as-hated, hours of heartlesly-harshly-hit-hurdies-hurt he handles humbly, almost happily, hiding his hung head, happier to have his he-hood heeded.
When his clerical uncle was cruelly crippled by a bad fall and entered a monastic resthome, unable to supervise and spank naturally-naked-nates-naughtiness-nurture-needy nephew Nick anymore, the knave went to a super-strict, systematically-spanking Catholic boys boarding school, where staff was delighted to honor uncle’s special request that Nick could stay commando, countless cases of cur-cones-crimson-castigating CP commencing by commands to drop trou on knees or ankles, leaving most schoolmates in underpants, him bare-balls, and humility-hailing headmaster his own supplication to hide his head in his hands when coyer comrades cup, never minding half his teachers add a dozen ‘for indecency’, even if most of them are the ones who have ‘bad boys’ stay after class and strip for second spankings, privately-private-parts-privacy-privated, which Nick prefers to sitting in collective detention (common for ‘class crimes’) and taking turns turning their trousers to the towering teacher-thrasher for posterior-punishment-peers to see, shame-faced seriously-sorrier then scarlet-seat-sightings.
As the school doesn’t allow staying over for holidays, nor guarantees all weekends, uncle also arranged Nick can spend those at top-tutor Tony’s, reputed a good, godfearing Catholic, uncle once having been his own confessor (never sparing the penitential rod as such either), trusted (besides occasional tail-tanning tawse-tutoring when some grade slipped somewhat) to keep castigating the fear of God in this godson-like guy, amused by the same terms as the school, actually appreciating an admirably-abject adolescent’s angelic arse always-already-all-attire-abandoned all-the more, esthetically and as excellent endlessly-elder-educator-enjoyed evidently-educational example for eerily-exposed-endurance-evasive charges, Nick never minds going OTK nude-but-masked in front of one or more of Sir’s charges before Sir’s tutoring sessions for the sake of demonstration, even sincerely thanks Sir on naked knees for such sound ‘supernumerary’ spankings, scared-only of actual punishment (rather rare) requiring him to remove the mask and face a fuck-up fellow frontally before and after his happier-head-hung humblehound-hiney-hiding.
It’s far from dull either, as for Sir’s posterior-punitive-protocol-practice purpose and private pleasure, knave Nick’s non-stop nudity is the notable only coveted constant: each day he stays at Tony’s, Sir picks a particular position, implement (on even days) and procedure, instructing Nick to prepare it all before the first tutoring-session, or even if there’s none in front of Sir’s in-living spankable charges, guaranteed after the lecture on some spankable sin at least one of them gets the next go as well and all-attire-abandoned as Nick.
His shy face most never shall see unmasked, a choice of cheeks-sets-casting suiting all parties, from the shy stripling to the frockless-fanny-flagellation-focussed firm flogger and the awkwardly-attending adolescent audiences, always able to appreciate the admonition a lot better when the awefull-ache-afflicted arse is as anonymous as abject, no amical auch-alas-ayayaay-reaction for a poor posterior-purple-pained peer yet, only observing the ongoing obediently-offered-orbs-ordeal-ominous omen on-guard, till one of their own gets it as gruesomely-good on gloriously-glowing-globes, no mask, no distance, full-impact as eery example it can as easily happen again to any of them, any time.