Friday, September 16, 2022

In Eastern Europe, young men are punished strictly

Poor Ivan, so shy even at 19

 

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

It’s not as if Ivan had never been to the banya. His papa or uncles had taken him a few times as a boy. As a young teen he’d even gone with some friends on occasion (with at least one boy’s father along for supervision). So, he’d been naked with other men and boys plenty of times. He’d seen what they looked like, and they’d seen him. Since turning 18, he and his buddies would go on their own: strip down, have a beer, watch a hockey game, sweat in the sauna, plunge in the cold pools, and even pinken each other’s skin by lightly whipping it with eucalyptus leaves. (And yes, those eucalyptus branches whisked every part of the body, shoulders to ankles, backside and frontside!) It was male bonding. It was fun. And it felt good, too.

So why was standing naked like this such a traumatizing event for a fit young man like Ivan? For one thing, he wasn’t at the banya with his friends. He was at home in the living room.

For another, his father and brothers weren’t the only other people there. Ivan’s behavior had upset some important people, so Papa had invited what seemed like the whole town, male and FEMALE, to witness Ivan’s punishment.

For a third, standing naked in front of the fully clothed crowd was just the beginning of Ivan’s ordeal. A babushka loudly lectured the young man as women clucked in agreement and men grunted in assent. He could feel the women and especially the girls staring at his body. Some of them were giggling as they pointed at his dangling hui.

After the babushka’s lecture finally ended, Papa ordered Ivan to turn around so everyone could get a good look at his pristine, white yagoditsy. It wouldn’t look like this again for a long, long time, Papa promised the crowd (to much mirth).

And then, taking the red-faced nineteen-year-old by the ear, Papa led Ivan and the whole group outside to the garden where there was a bench and three fresh birch rods. Unlike the eucalyptus in the banya, the leaves were removed, and these implements were much longer and sturdier.

It’s not like Ivan had never been spanked. Papa was a strict man who had impressed his displeasure on his son’s bare backside more times than either could remember. In recent years that had often involved Papa’s belt. (Ivan had received some good natured ribbing a few months ago after one such whipping that had happened right before his buddies picked him up to watch the hockey game at the banya. His yagoditsy was still scarlet when he stripped down for the sauna.)

This would not be a spanking or a light whisking to pinken the skin. Papa intended to thrash the young man thoroughly. There would be welts and bruises plenty, though Papa hoped to avoid shedding too much blood.

As Ivan straddled the bench and bent over, he knew how exposed he was. He could here the babushkas clucking and the girls giggling as the men nodded grimly and the boys held their breath. He could feel the breeze on the back of his dangling nutsack. He could hear the birch whistling through the air as Papa took a vigorous practice swing. He never felt more naked or vulnerable than in that terrible moment.

And so the young man who had been far too familiar with the local apparatchik’s daughter learned a harsh lesson before the people of the town.

Anonymous said...

How titillating! Bent over like that, even his puckered ring between his cheeks must have poked out…