BBFC: Taavi Needs It
The every spankable and naughty Taavi has to face the music with Dimitri, you would think that he would make an effort to behave and save a spanking, but maybe there is more to it than that for this lad
Dimitri gets the lad over the table and sets about paddling him with the ping pong bat.
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Taavi looks quite sheepish as he gets his paddling on his black jeans but he takes what’s coming well. When Dimitri stands the lad up and pulls down his jeans we see that Taavi is not only going commando but he is very excited at the paddling.
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Maybe this is the reason he keeps playing up, he is starting to enjoy a spanking a lot. Whatever the reason is great to see this well hung lad hard as his ass gets the Dimitri treatment.*
When he scampers away at the end you have to wonder what he is going to do next for a spanking, we will find out soon.
Taavi has a big dong…
It’s very rare for Taavi to get nostalgic about home, as all that springs to mind about his grumpy guardian gramps are godfatherly gruesomely-‘good’-given glowing-globes-grillings, good behavior was never good enough to get out of grim globes-glow, good grades too were graded on a curve of cruelty covering his clothless cur-cones in copious counts of crimson cuts, complementing the constant coping with countless castigations for ‘curbing contemptible conduct’ and complete-compliance-compelling.
Therefore Teodor tries to tame the twink to tractability by threatening the thought-trembling teen with time back home Taavi thinks he can spend in the house, which works wonders weel-beyond wailing over the well-whipped whippersnapper’s whooped woes.
Yet there’s one annual case of non-naughty, nice nostalgia: his birthday spankings. In the house, birthday boys are given as great gift a break, notably from all chores, so his mates look forward to spending it spanking- and spanking-fear-free, but(t) that doesn’t work for Taavi. In his home village, birthday knaves’ fathers/guardians always invite family and friends to a festive flailing frenzy, like cahoots, victims and guests frequently attend woodshed-whippings, but(t) all town together in the living-room, where the bare-balls ‘birthday suit’ boy bends over for his age in lashes from strict Sir with the traditional three-tail-tawsen and as much with the ‘birthday birch’ all other fathers contributed a fresly-cut switch for as traditional ‘gift that keeps giving’, then he’s passed around for rides over every male villager knee, competing whose harshly-hiding hand hits him hardest, has him howl highest, hours of heathenishly-harsh hard-handed hardship.
Most peer knaves blush brightly before baring boyhood and butt busily-business-and-boyhood-ends-beheld by the buzzing bucolic bunch, never having stripped for and being spanked by some of the guests,
but(t) Taavi’s gramps always makes sure no villager or other guest hasn’t heeded him hiding the hottie-humblehound he-hood-heightened and had at least one go putting him over the knee pre-flogged, hearing him howl, so he never has anything left to hide, coyness-cured and prudery-privated previously, actually learned long-ago concentrating cockily on being the copiously-crimson-colouring centrepiece of his own party, proudly pleased to pleasure the public privates-privacy-privated perfectly-perilously-pantsed presenting his pleasant perky-puppy-posterior for a plethora of partyanimal-progressively-pain-purple-poundings by paternalistic papas and his particularly-pleased puerile peers.
Nobody does it better being beheld bubble-butt-beaten bare-boyhood-bungling, his anniversary is the talk of the town, making him a humble star, and he misses that here in the house, where the knaves know nearly no neighbors, let alone compete who takes thorny-teen-tush-tender-tanning-to-true-tears time-and-time again toughest. So he deliberately challenges strict Sir by blatant backtalk at dinner time, so all his peers can enjoy the show, a bit like home.