Contributed by - Marabout
The following morning, “execution day”, Eustace was awake at crack of
dawn. In fact, he had slept a full eight hours, so exhausted was he
after the two women had left, for on that final evening both Mrs Mbele
and Mrs Kirembe had joined forces to further Eustace’s education in ways
that he had scarcely been able to imagine before. He learnt, that
evening, that sexual expertise was another accomplishment of Azangan
women. From an early age, young girls were instructed by their mothers
and older women in the “arts of love”, not only to please men but, more
importantly, to maintain their power over men. It was not only through
draconian punishment that women ruled in Azanga! Not that punishment was
far from their thoughts, however, for the two women did not allow
Eustace to forget his coming ordeal at the hands of Miss Moyo, teasing
him mercilessly on the subject, while Eustace himself felt a kind of
delicious excitement at the thought that soon these same women would
soon be witnessing him naked over the flogging block.
Eustace breakfasted somewhat frugally, after showering thoroughly and
donning his cleanest clothes and, at the appointed time, once again
found himself standing nervously at Miss Moyo’s office door. On entering
he found Miss Moyo seated at her desk, clad as usual in her ANP Party
dress. To one side sat Mrs Tembe, also wearing the green and yellow ANP
dress, as were Mrs Kirembe and Mrs Mbele, who stood opposite. Mrs Tembe
was a tall, bespectacled, dignified figure, her closely cropped hair
slightly graying at the temples. She gazed solemnly at Eustace as he
stood awkwardly before her., while Mrs Kirembe and Mrs Mbele smiled
brightly, as usual, at the young man with whom, only a few hours before,
they had been frolicking naked on a bed and who was now standing before
them awaiting a flogging.
It was Mrs Tembe who spoke first. “Well Eustace,” she said softly, “I
have heard all about your transgression and I must tell you that I was
unpleasantly surprised. You should know that both Miss Moyo and I
considered dismissing you from the college. We have the reputation of
our college to consider and your conduct could have damage this
reputation seriously. However, given your excellent record and fine work
here, we decided that you should be given a chance to redeem yourself by
receiving formal corporal punishment. I am glad that you have chosen
this alternative and I hope that it will teach you a lesson in right
behavior. Have you anything to say?”
“No, Mrs Tembe,” Eustace mumbled nervously. “only that am very sorry for
what happened and I deserve my punishment.”
“That is right Eustace,” Mrs Tembe replied gently. “I am glad to hear
it. Miss Moyo …?”
“Mrs Kirembe, Mrs Mbele, would you please take Eustace to the punishment
room and prepare him,” said Miss Moyo briskly. “Call us when you are
“Come, Eustace,” said Mrs Kirembe with her usual bright smile. He
nervously followed her into the adjoining room with Mrs Mbele behind.
The punishment room was bare except for the heavy wooden punishment
“horse”, placed square in the centre. This was a heavy, wooden trestle,
about three feet high, set on solid legs to give it stability with a
flat canvass-padded top. There was a stout canvas strap at each leg of
the apparatus to fasten the culprit’s wrists and ankles. In one corner
of the room, soaking in a bucket of water were a number of birchrods.
There was another bucket next to it containing iced water and covered
with a white cloth.
“Well now, Eustace,” said Mrs Kirembe, smiling as she closed the door,
“go over to the corner and undress. You must take off all your clothes,
including your underwear. That is the rule. Fold your clothes neatly and
leave them there, then come over here.”
The two women watched as Eustace undressed, clumsily unbuttoning his
shirt with trembling fingers, awkwardly removing his shoes and socks.
Finally, facing the wall, he took off and folded his trousers, laying
them on the floor with the rest of his clothes.
“Yes, that’s right,” Mrs Kirembe said as he stood somewhat sheepishly
next to his discarded clothing. “Now come over here.”
Eustace obeyed, shuffling barefoot over to where Mrs Kirembe had
indicated, next to the punishment horse. He felt acutely aware of his
nudity as he stood there, eyes downcast, shamefaced, his hands held
modestly over his genitals. Mrs Kirembe, as usual, was smiling with a
twinkle of amusement in her eye as was Mrs Mbele, the gaze of both women
fixed mainly on the incipient erection that he was vainly trying to
“Stand here by the punishment horse and keep your hands by your sides,”
Mrs Kirembe ordered.
Eustace obeyed and stood docilely allowing the two ladies to examine his
naked body from head to foot, which they did with much humorous comment.
Of course, their attention was drawn principally to his penis, which was
now revealed in full erection, despite all his efforts to prevent such
“What’s this, Eustace?” Mrs Kirembe exclaimed in mock horror, tapping
the offending member with her forefinger. “Why is your cock hard? What
are you thinking about? Is this making you feel sexy?”
Both women laughed and Mrs Mbele slapped Eustace’s bottom. “He will get
extra strokes if Miss Moyo sees that!” she remarked.
“Oh, Eustace looks very nice standing there in his birthday suit,
doesn’t he?” Mrs Kirembe said with a chuckle. “What white skin he has!
Well, it won’t be so white after a few strokes of Miss Moyo’s birch!”
“And what a nice fat bottom!” Miss Mbele replied with some relish.
“Yes, there is plenty of fat on this arse,” said Mrs Kirembe, pinching
Eustace’s bottom. “He won’t feel the first strokes through all that
“He is as plump and soft as a girl,” Mrs Mbele said scornfully. “Look at
this!. Just like a woman!” She reached out and tweaked Eustace’s rather
prominent nipples painfully, causing him to squirm uncomfortably..
“Now bend over the horse, Eustace,” she ordered. “I have to strap you
down to stop you from moving, because if you move maybe the birch will
hit you in a bad place and injure you seriously and we don’t want that
to happen, do we?”
Eustace obediently bent over the trestle his hips resting on a padded
top with his buttocks raised prominently, presenting an inviting target
for the cane.. Mrs Kirembe and Mrs Mbele busied themselves buckling the
four stout canvas straps. His wrists and ankles were then buckled to the
legs of the apparatus, leaving him quite helpless and at their mercy
Indeed, when Mrs Kirembe had finished the task, she could not resist
tickling Eustace playfully between the cheeks of his buttocks with her
forefinger as he lay bent there, held firmly in place by the four straps
like a pig for the slaughter.
Chuckling, she gave Eustace another smart slap on his upturned behind.
“Oh yes, I think this arse is going to be pretty sore by the time Miss
Moyo has done with it, don’t you. Miss Mbele?”
Mrs Mbele smiled, smacking Eustace’s bottom from the other side. “Oh
yes!” she said cheerfully. “This arse is certainly going to suffer
She then went to call Mrs Tembe and Miss Moyo, while Mrs Kirembe
remained next to Eustace, stroking his bottom gently.
“Good, I see you have him ready, Mrs Kirembe” Miss Moyo said briskly,
looking down at the bending figure of Eustace.
Meanwhile, Mrs Mbele had brought in the comfortable chair for MrsTembe,
who sat facing Eustace, while Mrs Kirembe and Mrs Mbele stood to one
Miss Moyo gazed down at Eustace, who lay there visibly trembling.
“Well now, Eustace, I am going to administer your punishment, which, may
I remind you, you yourself have chosen to receive. I warn you, it will
be painful! You will not enjoy it, but I hope it will serve as a
salutary lesson to you. You will receive thirty-six strokes. Mrs Kirembe,
keep a careful count of the strokes for me, please.”
Eustace, well trussed up as he was over the trestle, could only lie
there trembling and waiting while Miss Moyo strolled over to the corner
where the rods were soaking and started to select a suitable one.
Watched by Mrs Kirembe and Miss Mbele, she tried a couple out, flexing
and swishing them until she found one to her liking. It consisted of
three very thin, tough switches from an Azangan tree similar to the
willow, bound with tape at one end and leaving the top third of the
switches free to allow them to splay across the culprit’s buttocks with
each stroke. The rod was extremely supple due to its having been soaked
in water for several hours. She tested it, bending it almost double to
check its flexibility and making it whistle through the air quite close
to Eustace’s exposed buttocks, which twitched in anticipation of the
sting to come.
Now Miss Moyo stationed herself to Eustace’s left and laid the birch
across his buttocks lightly to take aim for the first stroke. Eustace
flinched as he felt the touch of the smooth rods on his bare skin.
“Are you ready, Eustace?” Miss Moyo asked curtly. “Six strokes from this
So saying, she raised the rod and then, with a swing of her powerful
hips, brought it hissing down to land with a resounding crack across
Eustace’s buttocks, drawing from him a yelp of pain. Miss Moyo stood
back and watched as livid stripes began to form across the white flesh
of Eustace’s behind.
“One!” called Mrs Kirembe with a pleasant smile.
Five more times, pausing between each stroke, Miss Moyo brought the
switch down with a steady rhythm and with merciless accuracy on
Eustace’s buttocks, eliciting agonized puffing and blowing and frantic
jerking of the hips from the hapless culprit. After the first six
strokes Miss Moyo paused to examine the state of Eustace’s behind. Mrs
Tembe looked on placidly, while the other women contemplated the livid
marks on Eustace’s bottom with satisfaction. They were already beginning
Eustace lay there wriggling his hips and wincing as his buttocks
throbbed with pain. He had broken out into a nervous sweat as he waited
for the flogging to begin, and now his whole body glistened. Miss Moyo
walked round to his right side, preparing to resume the punishment.
“Six strokes,” she said. “Are you ready, Eustace?”
She again took careful aim while Eustace tensed his body in expectation
of the searing lash. Again the room echoed to the swish and crack of the
birch as Miss Moyo swung her whole body into the delivery of each
stroke. Such was the suppleness of the switches and such was Miss Moyo’s
expertise in its application that she was able to make the tips of the
switches curl around Eustace’s hips and even into the crack between his
splayed buttock cheeks, with excruciating effect. Eustace’s cries of
pain now became louder and shriller and he squirmed wildly insofar as
the restraining straps permitted. By the twelfth stroke his buttocks
were well reddened with swelling weals on both sides and he was sobbing
“Well Mrs Tembe, I think he is beginning to learn his lesson, don’t you,
ladies?” Miss Moyo remarked with an ironical smile...
“Yes, indeed Miss Moyo,” Mrs Tembe replied, smiling brightly with
Eustace lay groaning and sobbing with pain, the tears rolling down his
cheeks, cheeks that were burning almost as hotly as the cheeks of his
Miss Moyo took no notice of his distress. She walked slowly over to the
corner and in leisurely fashion started selecting a fresh rod. Coming
back to the punishment bench, she took up her position once again to
Eustace’s right and calmly and dispassionately resumed the flogging. She
laid on six hard strokes, carefully aiming at the tender crease where
the buttocks meet the thighs, drawing piercing howls from poor Eustace.
Mrs Kirembe and Mrs Mbele, as experienced connoisseurs of the art of
corporal punishment, knew that this was the spot where the sting of the
rod was at its fiercest, and they both showed enthusiastic approval.
Indeed, it was an essential part of the ritual of corporal punishment in
Azanga that the spectators should be expected to participate by voicing
their admiration for the flogger’s skill as well as their amusement and
contempt for the sufferer.
“Well Eustace, I trust you are beginning to learn your lesson. You see,
this is what happens to anyone, teacher or pupil, who misbehaves in this
college,” Miss Moyo said, looking down quite unmoved by the sight of the
squirming, moaning figure on the bench. “There are eighteen more strokes
Miss Moyo, without more ado, took up her position, ready to resume the
flogging. This time there were no pauses or rests. The six strokes were
delivered at a rapid rate, mercilessly and methodically, up and down
Eustace’s buttocks and thighs without the slightest regard for his
frantic, piercing screams as the supple, supple switch found its target
again and again, finally breaking the skin in several places and causing
spots of blood to appear. Miss Moyo gave no quarter. Mrs Kirembe and Mrs
Mbele, as was the Azangan custom, applauded gleefully a particularly
effective lash or an especially strident howl of distress from the
unfortunate culprit, while Mrs Tembe looked on with every sign of
approval and satisfaction.. Only when the full three dozen lashes had
been inflicted, did Miss Moyo stop and, rod in hand, to gaze down
contemptuously at the squirming, blubbering figure bent over the
punishment horse before her.
““Well Mrs Tembe, I think he has learnt his lesson, don’t you agree?”
she said, pointing to the sorry state of Eustace’s buttocks with the
cane. Then, addressing Mrs Kirembe: “You had better clean up his
backside for him.Mrs Kirembe, please. Shall we go to my office, Mrs
Tembe?” she said casually, laying the rod down and leaving the
punishment room with Mrs Tembe.
Mrs Kirembe and Mrs Mbele looked down at the young man as he lay sobbing
and groaning miserably. Mrs Kirembe went over to the corner of the room
and fetched the bucket of iced water. Having dipped the cloth in the
water and wrung it out, she laid it over Eustace’s bruised and swollen
bottom, causing him first to wince with pain and then to emit a sigh of
relief as the cold cloth began to reduce the burning sensation slightly.
“Oh, oh, pole, poor Eustace, maskini,” she said with a chuckle,
carefully touching his tender, swollen buttocks, “that was a good
flogging! I think he won’t be able to sit down for a long while!”
Mrs Kirembe and Mrs Mbele stood over the bench examining Eustace’s
backside dispassionately and commenting on the livid stripes and welts
that decorated it. Mrs Kirembe chuckled as she touched the tender welts.
“This arse has taken some punishment, hasn’t it, Margaret? Look, it is
red and black and blue all over! I think Eustace has had a good lesson.
He will not tell lies again, will he?”
Mrs Mbele assented with a smile. “Oh yes , this arse is going to be very
sore for a long time!”
Eustace just lay there tearfully sobbing to himself, thankful for the
respite. Mrs Kirembe removed the cloth from Eustace’s buttocks, soaked
it in the cold water again and replaced it before leaving the room with
Mrs Mbele to join Miss Moyo and the Headmistress. Eustace could hear
them chatting as he lay over the bench, the slightest movement causing
the pain to course through his throbbing behind. They spoke in Ciazangi
so he understood very little of what was being said, but from their
cheerful laughter, he suspected that they were talking about him and his
less than stoical behavior under punishment.
As for Eustace himself, while on the one hand he had been unable to
endure the pain of the caning in silence, screaming and pleading more
and more wildly as the punishment went on, on the other hand, even in
his distressed state he could not resist the strange, overwhelming
feeling of excitement, almost of pleasure, at his own humiliation and
torture before these women. He had experienced the same feeling at the
lake when he had found himself naked and helpless at the mercy of the
village women. Now he felt a thrill and a swelling in his loins as his
eyes followed the proud swing of Miss Moyo’s hips when she left the room
knowing that he had just been mercilessly whipped by this handsome,
After some ten minutes, Mrs Kirembe and Mrs Mbele returned to unfasten
the straps binding Eustace to the flogging horse. As they did so, it
became apparent that the punishment had had another effect on his
anatomy besides a swollen backside. His penis had also swollen into a
semi-erect state and swayed and bobbed before him. Chuckling, Mrs
Kirembe playfully tickled his member as the two ladies led him slowly
into Miss Moyo’s office. He groaned as each step caused the pain to
throb through his burning, crimson buttocks, but he was into much pain
to be concerned about his erection. Now he had to suffer the final
humiliation, obliged to stand stark naked facing Mrs Tembe and Miss Moyo..
Mrs Kirembe ordered Eustace to place his hands behind his neck, so that
he stood totally exposed, sobbing and wincing, while Mrs Tembe and Miss
Moyo gazed at him calmly and dispassionately, apparently oblivious to
the sight of his semi-rigid penis, which jerked up and down rather
comically with each heaving sob emitted by the wretched well-punished
“Well Eustace,” Mrs Tembe said gently, “your punishment is over. The
matter is closed.. I trust that you have learnt your lesson here this
morning and that this whipping has served to help you improve your
behavior while you are here. I hope it will not be necessary for me to
repeat this punishment. Now, Eustace, according to our college custom,
you are required to formally thank us for your punishment. Yes? We are
Hardly able to speak, such was the painful dryness in his throat,
Eustace managed painfully to gasp an expression of thanks.
“Very well,” Miss Moyo said. “Now, go over to the corner and kneel down
facing the wall. You can think about what you have done and resolve to
improve your conduct in the future.”
Painfully Eustace shuffled over to the corner and knelt. He remained
there for about half-an-hour, naked and humiliated, his livid, scarlet
buttocks throbbing and burning, while the four ladies chatted cheerfully
in Ciazangi and drank their tea, igoring him completely. Finally Miss
Moyo ordered him to get up.
“Take him over to your office, Mrs Kirembe, and see to his backside!”
Painfully Eustace rose and, having retrieved his clothes from the
punishment room, shuffled out of Miss Moyo’s office led by Mrs Kirembe.