An Olde Fashioned Switching

I had been mentioning that dead branch on the tree in the front yard for months. david had said it was no big deal. He had an electric chainsaw and could have it off and cut up in an hour. That was last year. I needed a good pretext to punish david, and this was perfect. So I mentioned it again on Friday. He said he would take care of it on Saturday. Well Saturday came, and Saturday had almost gone, and no action on that tree branch.

I have taken a hankering to the idea of giving david a "switching". I had read about it somewhere (I don’t even know where anymore) and then had googled it and found a lot of stories to inspire me. I was determined to give david a "switching", and I thought his lassitude regarding the dead branch was a perfect punishment fitting the crime.

Some key ideas in my research was the ritualized "cutting of the switch" where the naughty boy or girl would have to go outside (usually bare bottomed) and prepare their own switch. I knew that the switch had to be from a young green hardwood tree, really whippy, and had to be prepared by having the leaves and bark stripped off. Buds left behind could increase the impact. I understood that the switch had to be wielded hard and fast, and would leave thin lines behind. A popular switching position was standing up, being held by the arm, and being made to dance in a circle as the switch cut up the naughty boy's or girl's legs and butt.

To prepare, when david was out I found a young maple tree (yeah Canada!). Discrete and out of the way in the backyard. I prepared a couple of switches myself, and tried them out on my own ass. If wielded too gently - nothing. If I put full force into it, then youchie! Not damaging, but incredibly stingy. And leaving thin little marks. I judged david could take a lot of these at full force. He would suffer, but nothing permanent. I tried a couple of thicknesses. I took pictures for you guys.

Yes, those switches actually touched my lilly white butt. The thicker one was just a WHAP stick. Cane or crop would have been better. The thinner one was pure burning hellfire evil. Applied hard and fast and whippy, he would be suffering for sure. The things I do for science!

At about 3pm I went to david, sitting on his ass watching Olympics on TV. "How about that dead branch?" I asked him. "Oh yeah, I'll take care of that tomorrow." He said. "I've heard that before. I think you need some added motivation."

That was like a code word. He knew he was about to get scened.

I shut off his TV and took him upstairs. I told him that for his procrastination, he was getting a switching. I gave him a paring knife, directed him to the young maple tree in the back yard, and told him to cut me three switches, as I would be wearing them out on his ass. I gave him instructions. I wanted them young and wet and whippy. Stripped down to their bark. Two to three feet long. As thick as a pencil. Go.

david looked at it sheepishly, but took the paring knife and made to go out. He knew he was in the wrong about that dead branch.

"Hold on, mister." I told him. "I believe it's traditional for the bad boy to cut his switches without his bottoms on."

Oh my how he complained! The neighbours might see! Wah wah. Cry me a river. Our immediate neighbours were away this weekend I happened to know. He didn't, apparently.

I had him out of his pants and his underpants. He was wearing a T-shirt that came to his waist. I let him keep that. "Go cut me my switches." I told him, impatiently. "you really don't want to keep me waiting," I added for emphasis.

I watched from the sliding glass doors to the backyard as david gingerly made his way to the tree I had indicated. He cut three little branches and came back. I was standing on the inside of the screen door. I waved my finger no and told him to go back to the tree. He needed to prepare those switches back there, not in the house. david made his way back to the tree. Bare ass and private parts jiggling! There he stayed and whittled away at the switches until they were properly prepared for me.

He told me after it was intensely embarrassing for him to do that. Bare bottom out in the backyard where he was afraid neighbours might see him. And preparing the instruments he knew would soon be making his bottom burn like fire, accentuated by the fact his bottom was bare, and a focal point of his attention.

He came back. I had him hand me the switchoes and I inspected them carefully. He was waiting outside the screen door, bottomless, while I did so. "These two will do" I told him, "this one is too flimsy. Try again." He had to go back to the tree and re-cut and re-prepare the third switch for me. Ha Ha! He was so embarrassed, bare-assed in the back yard!

He came back, and I let him in after inspecting his work. The third was the thickest of the three. Poor boy. I guess he didn't want to go back there again.

I brought him into our sunny living room and told him to clear a space. He moved the coffee table and the chairs to make a wide open space for me.

With my left hand I grabbed hold of his left forearm. With my right, I started whipping the switch down onto his ass and his thighs. OMG did he whoop and dance! I knew from my self-switching experiment that I had to be hard and fast. He danced around me in a circle as I switched him hard. I tried to be accurate and aim the tip for the centre of his butt cheeks, but because he was moving and twisting so much, I couldn’t be that accurate, and more than once the switch whipped around him and caught him on his sensitive side hips. I also deliberately targeted his legs. Not only his high thighs, but also his calves. I left thin little whip marks all up and down the backs of his legs, as well as full onto his bum.

I literally wore out a switch doing that to him. It had turned into flimsy jelly. I picked up another and continued the onslaught. The fresh switch made him jump and yelp all that much more.

He probably got about five minutes of that. Giving that I was whipping that switch down more than once a second, that's several hundred little whippings he endured. He must have made twenty laps around me, knees high and dancing the whole time. This should be an Olympic event. He was sweating and exhausted, and in some measure of agony.

As I reached for the third switch he tried to beg off. No way! I was determined to wear out three switches on his lazy hide.

I saved the thickest (and shortest) switch for the last. For this one I knelt with one knee on the floor, and took him over my other knee. I then used that switch hard and fast all up and down his legs and bum. He was howling and begging. I love it when he says "please honey! I'm sorry baby! I'll do the branch!! I'm sorry! Please!!!!"

Oh no. No mercy. I kept that last switch coming down hard and fast. His ass and legs were messed up! I found I couldn’t wear out that thick switch, so I called it quits when I felt he was done. He's generally "done" when he stops complaining with his words and just takes the whip, whimpering like a well-beaten husband should. His bottom was marked, just like this, and his legs too:

I shove him down onto the floor and mounted him. He winced as his ass made contact with the carpet. I crushed him and kissed him and shoved my tongue down his throat. I stripped and then guided his hard cock into me. I rolled him over and put him on top as I grabbed and raked his whipped legs and ass cheeks with my nails. Despite his pain, he exploded into me with an anguished cry of release.

"Get down!" I told him, pushing his head down to between my legs. I made him lick me out. He "hates" doing this just after he's cum into me. He says he has to navigate his own cum as he licks me. Tough for him. It turns me on knowing he's eating cream pie for his desert. I cum vi-o-lent-ly, grabbing him by the hair and grinding my pelvis into his mouth.

"Sorry about the tree branch." He says breathlessly, his head resting on my tummy.

"What branch?" I say.