Lest You BuckMost often I when I was whipped, it was on my bare bottom while bent over a log lying in our barn. For those who have never been thus whipped, I must explain a basic fact: it's not just the person who is doing the whipping who is animated during the proceeding, but also me, the person being whipped is animated. In truth, the strokes become so painful, that I didn't just squirm...half way through the whipping, the lash could and often did make me buck. Because my father was aware of this, and no doubt feared injury to my genitals, he ordered me before each whipping to lay a flannel like blanket, that was often used to warm the foal, over the log, "lest you buck." This way, as I squirmed and bucked, my genitals would be protected from the hardwood of the log.
I remember when my sister Faith was told to walk with me to the barn, to witness me get a whipping, some time lapsed between our arriving together to the barn, and father's arrival to whip me. She said, "shouldn't you prepare the log?" Faith had never been whipped while bent over that log, but she heard plenty of stories from her siblings about the procedure. I was so embarrassed. I told her to shut up, as I resented her presence at what was to be my first public licking. When Faith saw me procrastinate because of the huge lump in my stomach, she started her way toward the blanket to cover the log herself! Wasn't it enough that she was going to watch me bared and whipped in front of her? Did she have to participate any further. I started to walk towards her, to yank the blanket out of her hands, when father finally walked in and saw what was happening. He sternly told me to back off, and said that Faith could lay the blanket over the log while I bared my bottom. Faith then took the blanket, folded it a few times, as it was quite large, and needed to be folded several times to provide the desired protection. When Faith had finished this service, and I had dropped my jeans and underwear, I was then directed to assume the position over the log. I think Faith was proud of her "professionalism." I was now ready to be whipped before her. I've already told the play by play of this particular whipping in another story, and don't want to repeat all the details. That story is available to anyone interested. When I was over the log, Faith un-looped her rawhide tooled leather belt, as father had determined to whip we with it (see story). Well, other than the loud cracks, and searing pain, I do remember that that rawhide belt got me bucking after the fifth lash. It's a good thing Faith took the great care she did in preparing the log. I know that, at first, she was aghast at the severity of that whipping. But, by the end, a smile seemed to break forth as she re-looped her rawhide belt while I was crying over the blanket covered log. At first, I thought she was smiling because she was satisfied with herself, having spared me from injury beyond a whipped bottom. Later, I was to discover she enjoyed the whole experience, and desired to see it repeated in her presence.