Contributed by - Marabout
He followed Mrs Kirembe across the small patch of garden with its tall
shady eucalyptus trees. He had not been allowed to dress after flogging
and “corner time”, but had been obliged to pick up his clothing and
follow Mrs Kirembe, naked as he was, to her office. Once there, after
giving him a glass of water, she took him into her treatment room, where
she ordered him to lie face down on the treatment bed while she busied
herself in preparing cold compresses for his swollen bottom.
“Oh, poor Eustace,” she said, half in commiseration and half in
amusement. “You certainly got yourself into some trouble, didn’t you?
Well, it was your own fault, you know. You should have asked for
permission to take that bicycle and it was naughty of you to lie about
it, so you got the punishment you deserved. Never mind. I will put some
cold compresses on your backside to make the swelling go down, but we
will have to wait until they are cold enough. I have put four in the
freezer. While we are waiting, I had better have a look at your bum to
check the places where the skin is broken.”
So saying, she proceeded to soak a piece of cotton wool with surgical
spirit and dab it on the lacerations, which were more in the nature of
scratches or grazing than serious wounds. Eustace wriggled and squealed
at each touch of the stinging alcohol.
“Keep still, Eustace,” Mrs Kirembe ordered. “It only stings a little.
Your arse is swollen and bruised but that is all. It will be tender and
sore for a few days but you will get over it, so don’t make such a
Obediently Eustace did as he was told as he lay naked on the bed, trying
to bear silently the throbbing pain in his buttocks as well as the
piercing sting of the surgical spirit on each tender spot. Whatever Mrs
Kirembe might say, to Eustace it felt as if his whole backside was
swollen to twice its normal size and twice as heavy.
“Well Eustace, the compress is ready,” Mrs Kirembe said brightly. “Now
I’m going to put it on your bum, so lie still.” She placed the ice-cold
damp towel over Eustace’s buttocks and thighs carefully. “There, that
will cool you down a bit and take away the burning and swelling. A cold
compress is the best thing after a flogging. I always keep some ready in
the freezer to put on a naughty girl’s bottom after she has been to see
She laughed as Eustace shivered at the contact with the cold towel.
“Thank you, Mrs Kirembe,” he said with feeling, looking up tearfully at
Mrs Kirembe’s round, chubby, shining black countenance.
She laughed again, patting him on the head. “Now, just lie there. No-one
will come to disturb you. I have something to do in my office, but I
will come and change the compress after about fifteen minutes.”
Eustace lay there, as still as possible given the discomfort he was
feeling, and thought over his tribulations of the past forty-eight
hours. Once again, these thoughts produced in him a strangely
pleasurable feeling. It was true that he had been subjected to a painful
and humiliating experience at the hands of the village women. Even more
painful and humiliating had been the merciless flogging he had just
received from Miss Moyo, but Eustace could not deny that part of him was
secretly deriving some strange, unconfessable thrill from the pain and
humiliation these African women had inflicted on him. As he lay there
naked on Mrs Kirembe’s treatment bed, one vision kept coursing through
his mind – himself, stripped naked and flogged like a naughty schoolboy,
or like a convict in a prison, or like a slave, by the beautiful Miss
Moyo! In his mind’s eye he saw himself, as if in a film, strapped down
over the flogging bench, squirming and writhing, screaming for mercy as
the birchrod scored his bare buttocks again and again, while the three
ladies avidly followed each stroke with mocking laughter, urging Miss
Moyo on to greater efforts. The smarting, throbbing pain in his
buttocks, though dulled somewhat by the contact of the cold towel,
combined with these thoughts served to stimulate his sexual excitement
ever more intensely and, together with the expectation of more cheerful
ministrations on the part of Mrs Kirembe, heightened this erotic feeling
to bring his penis to a state of full erection which refused to subside.
Mrs Kirembe returned to change the cold compress and, having done so,
sat down next to the bed to keep Eustace company, chatting cheerfully to
her patient in a perfectly normal way just as if she had not, only a
short while ago, witnessed this same patient being soundly flogged. She
talked about her time as a nurse in London and about her family. Her
husband, it seemed, had remained in England and she had not seen him
since. Her daughter, however, had returned to Azanga with her mother and
had trained as a nurse.
She removed the cold towel to examine the state of Eustace’s buttocks.
“Yes, that’s better,” she said, lightly touching the still hot, smarting
cheeks. “In a couple of days you won’t feel any discomfort at all. The
rattan cane stings terribly, but that is all.. You will survive!” She
laughed and went to the freezer to fetch another cold compress. Coming
back, she carried on chatting, while Eustace lay there silently, noting
little by little a lessening of the pain in his bottom. Mrs Kirembe
talked about Azanga and the President, Elizabeth Benda, of whom, like
the vast majority of Azangan women, she was a fervent admirer.
“Oh, the President is strong! She makes the people obey the law and she
is very good for us women. That is why Azanga is a rich country –
because it is governed by women!” she declared vehemently. “President
Benda does not allow corruption like in other African countries. Anyone
who is found guilty goes to prison with hard labor for a long time and
gets a good flogging into the bargain!” She smacked her lips with relish
at the thought. “Yes, here everyone must obey the law! Even Eustace!”
She suddenly laughed her merry laugh and tapped him gently on his
bottom. “Isn’t that so, Eustace?”
Eustace smiled ruefully. “Yes, Aunty, it certainly is!”
She went off to attend to some tasks in her office, leaving Eustace
alone for half-an-hour or so. When she returned, she removed the cold
towel and looked at his buttocks.
“All right, Eustace,” she said. “Now I will apply some ointment to your
bottom to soothe the stinging feeling.”
Very gently, she began to massage Eustace’s buttocks all over, rubbing
the cooling cream into the skin with practised skill. “There, there,
that is nice, isn’t it? That is making Eustace feel better now, isn’t
it?” She chuckled as her fingers strayed down to touch the spots where
the tips of the rod had reached between the cheeks of the buttocks and
the scrotum, causing Eustace to start nervously.
“Oh, I think you like that, don’t you Eustace? Yes, I am sure you like
that!” she laughed. “Now lie there for a little while and I will make a
cup of tea.”
Again, she left Eustace lying there, his bottom feeling considerably
soothed, though another part of his anatomy was feeling far from
soothed. Presently she returned with the tea and placed the tray on a
table near the bed.
“Now, Eustace, sit up to drink your tea,” she said cheerfully.
Eustace obeyed, awkwardly heaving his body from his prone position to
sit uncomfortably on the edge of the bed. Unfortunately, of course, this
resulted in his fully erect penis being revealed to Mrs Kirembe’s amused
“Oh, Eustace!” she exclaimed, with a pretence of shock, but with
laughter in her eyes. “What’s this? Eustace, I think you are being a
naughty boy again!” She reached over and flicked the stiff member with
“I’m sorry, Aunty,’ muttered Eustace, scarlet with embarrassment.
She laughed. “Oh, Eustace, there is nothing to be sorry about!” she said
gently. “That is quite natural. You are a young man. Now, drink your
tea. It will make you feel better!”
So Eustace sat there on the edge of the bed fidgeting and wriggling,
with a cup of tea in his hand, while Mrs Kirembe sat opposite him,
chatting companionably, just as if it were the most natural thing in the
world for her to be having tea with a completely naked young man whom
she had watched being mercilessly flogged only a short while ago. This
was, for Eustace, perhaps the most strangely exciting aspect of the
whole situation. What for him, with his inhibitions and embarrassment
was an almost unthinkable predicament, for Mrs Kirembe seemed to be a
completely normal matter.
“All right, Eustace, just stand up and turn round, please. Let me have a
look at your bum,” Mrs Kirembe said after a few minutes. Eustace obeyed
and Mrs Kirembe, after examining his backside, pronounced herself
satisfied that he was fit to leave. “Yes, it’s still a bit hot and
swollen, but that will go away in a couple of days. So, you can put your
clothes on now. Go home and rest. This evening I will come to your house
and bring you a pot of nice Azangan stew to make you strong. OK?” Then,
with a chuckle, she squeezed Eustace’s penis. “And don’t play with this
too much, Eustace!”
Slowly Eustace made his way back to his house. In spite of Mrs Kirembe’s
ministrations, his bottom felt quite hot and sore, but most of all he
felt emotionally and physically exhausted after his ordeal at the hands
of Miss Moyo. All he wanted now was to lie down in his cool bedroom and
rest. Once he reached house, he undressed and lay face down on his bed.
It was some time before sleep finally came to him. In his imagination he
dwelt over and over again on the scene of his punishment, seeing himself
writhing and squirming on the bench under the beautiful Miss Moyo’s
cane, hearing again the mocking laughter of Mrs Kirembe and Mrs Mbele as
well as his own howls of pain and pleas for mercy. However, the painful
aspect of his punishment was somehow subordinated in his mind to the
erotic nature of the ordeal, to his complete submission to Miss Moyo,
and to the aftermath when he found himself lying naked again to receive
Mrs Kirembe’s treatment.
Eventually, however, his exhaustion overcame these disturbing thoughts
and he fell into a deep sleep. He woke at around five in the afternoon
with a furious thirst, his buttocks still burning and his whole body
aching from the discomfort of lying strapped to the punishment bench.
After drinking some cold water, he took a long cold shower and lay face
down again on his bed, his bottom too tender for sitting in an armchair.
He lay like this half drowsing until dusk, when he heard a knock at the
door. Of course! Mrs Kirembe had promised to come to see him! Wrapping a
towel around his waist, he went to let her in. She greeted him in her
usual ebullient way, a broad smile on her shining black face, and led
him to the kitchen in order to place the tin pot of stew that she had
brought on the table.
“Here, Eustace!” she said cheerfully. “This is a nice stew which I made
for you. This will make you feel strong! I want you to eat it all, or I
will be very angry!”
“Thank you, Aunty,” Eustace replied. In fact, smelling the stew, he
realized that he did, in fact, feel very hungry.
“But first, how are you feeling, Eustace?” Mrs Kirembe asked. “Come, let
me have a look at your bum. I have brought a nice salve to put on it.”
She led him briskly to the bedroom and, without more ado, stripped off
the towel from around his waist and spread it on the bed.
“Lie down, Eustace, and let me have a look.” She touched his still
reddened and sore skin gently. “Yes, your bottom still feels hot. Lie
still. I will rub some of this ointment on. It will take away the
soreness, you will see!”
Once again Eustace enjoyed the pleasure of the touch of Mrs Kirembe’s
soft hands on his bare skin as she bent over the bed gently kneading and
rubbing the cooling salve into the cheeks of his buttocks. She continued
the massage for about ten minutes, all the time chatting cheerfully,
while Eustace surrendered himself entirely to the erotic thrill aroused
in him as her fingers wandered between the cheeks of his buttocks and
the tops of his thighs, where the tip of the cane had penetrated,
leaving especially sore spots.
The inevitable result of these ministrations was, once again, to arouse
Eustace’s penis to full erection, causing his to fidget uncomfortably as
he lay there. Mrs Kirembe was perfectly aware of his excitement. She
laughed. “Turn over on your back, Eustace,” she said softly. “I will
give you a special, nice massage.”
Taking his member in one hand, she gently fondled it, while with her
other hand she tickled and caressed his nipples, smiling and chuckling
softly as she did so. Such was Eustace’s state of excitement that hardly
had Mrs Kirembe’s fingers touched his nipple than, with a shudder and a
sigh, he reached a delicious climax..
“There, that was nice, wasn’t it, Eustace?” Mrs Kirembe said, laughing
and patting his thigh affectionately. “I am sure you feel better now,
After wiping him down with the towel, Mrs Kirembe took Eustace to the
bathroom, where she efficiently washed his private parts and dried him
off. Then, Eustace docilely allowed himself to be led, naked as he was,
to his small, rudimentary kitchen, where Mrs Kirembe sat him down on a
wooden chair, on which she had placed a battered cushion from the
“Now, Eustace,” she said, “I am going to warm this nice stew for you,
and I want to see you eat it all! If you don’t, I will tell Miss Moyo
that you have been naughty again, and you know what will happen then,
In fact, Eustace did not need to be persuaded. He devoured the spicy
stew greedily, so hungry did he feel after his exertions of the past few
days while Mrs Kirembe, sitting opposite him, watched with satisfaction
as the food disappeared. She then made tea, which they drank together in
the small sitting room. Mrs Kirembe seemed quite unconcerned by the odd
nature of the scene, where a middle-aged African lady was sitting, fully
dressed, drinking tea with an entirely nude young white man. Eustace,
for his part, was perfectly conscious of the erotic aspect of the
situation, as evidenced by the visible fattening of his member, which he
no longer tried to conceal. Mrs Kirembe, who missed nothing, could not
help noticing his state of excitement and laughed, shaking her head in
“Oh, Eustace,” she said, “I think you are a very naughty boy! If your
bottom wasn’t so sore already, I would take you over my knee and give
you a very hard spanking!” She sighed deeply and then said: “Anyway,
come!” She rose and, taking hold Eustace by his penis, guided him slowly
back to the bedroom, where she laid him down and once again, knowingly
stroking his member with one hand and his nipples with the other,
brought matters to a pleasurable conclusion.
Eustace slept well that night, in spite of the lingering soreness in his
buttocks. Mrs Kirembe had left him completely exhausted by her
attentions. After sitting quietly with him for a while, she had led him
to the bathroom, where, having undressed, she had thoroughly enjoyed
herself with him in the bathtub washing him down from head to foot like
a child. She then led him to the bed and, spreading her generous thighs,
pulled him on top of her.
When, finally, she left, she planted a smacking kiss on Eustace’s now
flaccid and well-used member.
“Don’t forget, Eustace,” she warned him. “After you have seen Miss Moyo
tomorrow morning, come to my office for treatment.”
Still dizzy with the memories of everything that had happened to him the
previous day, from the depths of pain and humiliation under Miss Moyo’s
birchrod to the heights of sensual pleasure under Mrs Kirembe’s
guidance, Eustace fell into a deep sleep.
He woke early the following morning and prepared himself for, firstly,
his appointment with Miss Moyo at nine o’clock. Again, he made sure that
he was neatly and cleanly dressed, and was careful to present himself at
precisely the required time.
Miss Moyo, as usual, was seated at her desk, clad in her green and
yellow Party uniform. She scarcely looked up from the papers she was
studying when Eustace entered.
“Take your clothes off,” she ordered curtly.
Considerably taken aback by this abrupt reception, Eustace nevertheless
obeyed and began to undress. He supposed that he was expected to strip
completely, but dared not ask, and he wondered, with some trepidation
mixed with excitement, whether this meant that Miss Moyo intended to
give him another beating. He was kept waiting for about ten minutes,
standing naked before Miss Moyo’s desk, desperately trying to steer his
mind away from the inevitable erotic thoughts aroused by his situation,
lest this might provoke an erection. When Miss Moyo eventually turned
her attention to him, his member had fattened to a semi-erect state,
which he found hard to conceal. As it was, he need not have worried,
however, for Miss Moyo hardly conceded him a glance.
“Bend over,” she ordered.
Eustace obeyed and Miss Moyo got up from her chair and came round the
desk to examine his buttocks thoroughly.
“Has Mrs Kirembe given you treatment?” she asked.
“Yes, Miss Moyo,” Eustace replied. “And I have to see her again this
Miss Moyo made no comment, but returned to her desk. Eustace stood
there, his hands crossed modestly over his genitals, nervous and awkward
under her cool gaze.
“Well, Eustace,” she said, “I flogged you soundly yesterday and I hope
that it taught you a lesson. However, I have to tell you that the
flogging was only a part of your punishment. Here in Azanga the purpose
of corporal punishment is not only to inflict pain but also to make the
culprit aware of the disgrace of his offence as well as the shame and
humiliation of his punishment. Humiliation is the mother of humility and
a wrong-doer must learn humility and obedience, so in order to show that
you are truly sorry for your misbehavior you will have to perform an act
of penance. I hope this will bring home to you the true shame and
disgrace of your actions and that it will make you resolve to improve
your behavior in the future. Go over to the corner and kneel facing the
wall – hands on your head. You will remain there in that position until
I tell you may move. Do you understand?””
Eustace obeyed without demur and stood there, wriggling uncomfortably
and endeavoring to maintain the required posture, while Miss Moyo
continued in silence with her paperwork, glancing up from time to time.
The hours passed slowly for Eustace as he stood there, conscious of his
nakedness under Miss Moyo’s stern gaze, unable to prevent the inevitable
erection and the now familiar feeling of shame and embarrassment mixed
with excitement brought on by his humiliating predicament. At the same
time, Miss Moyo herself could not deny that she was enjoying the power
that she was clearly able to exercise over this young white man. She
realized that she had reduced Eustace to a state of total docility and
that, at a snap of her fingers, he would obey her every command. This
had become evident to her during the caning she had administered. She
had observed how Eustace had submitted docilely to his flogging and she
had not failed to notice the obvious sexual excitement aroused in him by
this humiliating punishment. She felt sure that he would submit with
equal docility to whatever punishment and humiliation she might impose
on him. She determined to put this to the test in due course.
“Very well, Eustace,” she said finally. “Get dressed. You may go. Report
to me here tomorrow at the same time for the next five days.”
Eustace hurriedly put his clothes on and left, heading straight for Mrs
Kirembe’s office. She was still there at her desk but was just about to
leave for lunch.
“Where have you been, Eustace?” she said in a slightly irritated tone.
“I have been waiting for all the morning. Well, now you are here, let’s
have a look at your bum. Come into the treatment room and undress.”
Eustace took his clothes off, this time somewhat less nervously, and
stood naked once again before Mrs Kirembe.
“Lie down on the bed,” she ordered briskly and commenced examining his
“Is it still sore?” she asked, pressing her hand lightly over various
“Just a bit, Aunty,” said Eustace, “but it does feel better.”
Mrs Kirembe chuckled. “Yes, the swelling is going down. Lie still. I
will put some more oil on the marks. We will soon have this bottom as
white as snow again.”
Eustace lay prone on the bed, now quite relaxed as Mrs Kirembe applied
the soothing oil.
“Well, Eustace, did you see Miss Moyo? Did she keep you there all the
morning? What happened?” she asked as she kneaded his buttocks gently.
Eustace, scarlet with embarrassment, haltingly told Mrs Kirembe about
his “penance”. She laughed, but made no comment.
When she finished her treatment, Mrs Kirembe let Eustace lie where he
was while she made a cup of tea. Later, after drinking his tea, he sat
on the bed, naked and erect, wondering what would happen next, but not
daring to meet Mrs Kirembe’s amused gaze. She came over and sat next to
him on the bed, smiling, and then, as he was hoping and half expecting,
commenced caressing his nipples playfully, running her fingers down over
his belly and along his stiff penis, causing him to shudder with
“All right, lie down, Eustace,” she said, laughing. “I know what Eustace
Gently she stroked the rigid, quivering member, crooning softly as her
fingers played, until she brought about the inevitable shuddering
“Naughty boy, Eustace!” she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
(to be continued...)