Uncle Joe Knew How to Whip His Boys Into Shape


Here is a story that I did publish elsewhere earlier this year. It's somewhat different to my Fun and Pain on the Teen Boy Farm Series.
I hope that you enjoy it.


Uncle Joe Knew How to Whip His Boys Into Shape

Billy and me worked hard that first morning. The sun beat down on our heads, and by midday it felt like we were working in a furnace. I wasn't used to this kind of work, or the heat, and my young muscles cried out for a rest. I'd only arrived yesterday, Sunday, having left school on Friday. The recession meant that it was always going to be difficult to find well paid work so when this job came up, I jumped at the opportunity. I was a long way south of home, but the prospects of sustainable work here at my wealthy uncle's place had been too good to refuse.

The older men from the ranch were working about 500 yards away. They seemed well used to this kind of labour. Nobody seemed to talk much.

At about one pm Billy advised that we would take a break. He produced some water and some chicken from the truck and we gobbled it back in no time. We sat for a while under a tree, trying to get some shelter from the sun. Billy advised that I was doing OK but that we needed to keep going or we'd be in trouble with his old man -- the boss of the place.

I asked Billy what it was like working for his father, my uncle, but Billy was non-committal and I didn't get any kind of satisfactory response. Billy said that his old man treated him like any other worker. The only difference was that he slept in the big house (where I would also sleep, being a member of the family).

Billy soon had us working again. After another hour of hard labour both Billy and me were dripping with sweat. Billy slowly turned and faced me and he carefully pulled off his white tee-shirt revealing a very tidy body. He wasn't particularly big, but he was wiry, sinewy and he had very good musculature. I was very impressed but I knew that my body would stand up well against his. I put my shovel down and very deliberately peeled off my tee-shirt.

I could see that Billy was indeed impressed with my body and he nodded.

"Turn around," he said.

I was a little bit puzzled but I did as Billy asked.

"Yes that looks good," he stated. "Pa will like that back."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"He likes a good muscular back on a boy," was Billy's cryptic answer.

As I looked at Billy and wondered, he slowly turned around and all became clear.

Billy's strong back was covered in a tapestry of red whip marks. I gulped, and realised that the damage had been done by Billy's own father.

"He whipped you?" I asked.

"Frequently," replied Billy.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing and hearing.

It suddenly dawned, "When you said that your pa would like my back, what did you actually mean?" I asked.

"He will want to test your strength and courage. He loves nothing better than to use his horse whip on a young virgin back," replied Billy.

I suddenly realized why the folks back home didn't seem to like the idea of me coming here to my uncle's. Now I really did need to be strong.

We got back to work quickly. I didn't want to upset Billy or his pa.

I suddenly forgot how hard the work was, and how much my muscles ached. All I was bothered about was avoiding Billy's pa's whip.

I needn't have bothered, as I was about to get it anyway.

It was just about an hour later that the old man drove up with three other big guys. They got out of the old truck and began inspecting our work. Joe looked me up and down, pausing around my chest.

"You are big boy, Steve, and you have a very fine physique for a boy of just sixteen," he said.

"Thank you sir, I did gymnastics at school" I replied.

"Your back looks like it would benefit from some correction," he stated.

I looked at him, wondering what was coming next.

"You've not made much impression on the job that we gave you," he snarled.

"We've hardly stopped all day," I replied.

"Don't contradict me boy," said Joe.

"Sorry sir," I answered.

"You need to learn an early lesson boy," stated Joe.

I felt worried.

"Let's see how strong you really are and teach you a bit of respect along the way," growled Joe.

I looked at Billy for some support but he was looking at the ground.

"Come with me," ordered Joe.

I couldn't do anything but obey. There was nowhere to run as we were miles from anywhere.

"Get the stuff," said Joe to the three others.

They went to the truck and got ropes from the back.

"Tie his wrists. You know how I want him," stated Joe.

I obviously knew what the intent was. I quickly decided that if Billy could take Joe's whip then I could too.

They tied my wrists, and slung the ropes up over a big tree bough. It took four of them to drag me up by my arms till my boots left the ground.

By now, all the other men who'd been working nearby were gathered close by to watch the sport.

I faced the truck and Joe slowly walked to it and reached into the cab. He pulled out a coiled whip. It was plaited brown leather. My body tensed and my shoulders and arms ached.

Joe walked towards me and flicked the whip to straighten it. It cracked with a deafening explosion. The whip was about eight feet long. I was terrified to realise that my uncle could contemplate using such a thing on his own nephew.

Joe had no problems at all with the proposal and he fully intended testing me out.

The old guy addressed me, "The first lesson of the day, boy, is that my horsewhip has no respect for muscle and good looks. I intend to show you what will happen whenever you don't work hard, or when you displease your uncle. I also intend to see just how strong that young back really is and whether you are a man."

I wanted to throw up and I could feel my heart pounding as my chest heaved massively in and out. I was aware that I was pouring with the sweat of fear.

"Let's get on," said Joe.

He disappeared behind me and after a few moments he cracked the whip in the air.

All I could do was pray.

The son-of-a-bitch gave me no further warning. I just heard the whooshing whistle of the lash as it sped towards my back. I then descended into the worst living twelve-minute nightmare of my life. Uncle Joe was obviously a master with the horsewhip and he cracked it twelve times across my back, top to bottom. After each stroke, he waited in silence for a full minute whilst I gagged and groaned and fought to breath. Just as I settled, the next stroke landed on a new area of my bare flesh. It was the most excruciating experience that I could have ever imagined. I couldn't breath as the lash wrapped around my back.

Billy told me later that I'd pissed myself upon the first stroke.

What was even more alarming was to realise that at the end, I had a hard-on. My dick throbbed and wanted to explode.

When the whipping finally stopped, the old man came around the front. He told me that he'd enjoyed himself immensely and that he looked forward to the next time. He said that I'd taken the whip like a man and that he longed for the day when he'd be able to properly test me.

There was no way that I could speak, even if I had the wit to do so. I was a gabbling wreck and my back was in utter agony. I was just about glad to be alive, but even that was debatable.

"It looks like you enjoyed yourself as much as I did," grinned Joe as he grabbed my crotch and twisted it.

Something in the back of my brain registered that I did perhaps like being strung up and whipped.

The men seemed to be very amused at my `excitement'.

"Let him down in half an hour and bring him home shirtless," stated Joe. "There are a few back there that need to be reminded that I'm a lenient and compassionate man. They need to see that I take care of my boys, and treat every one of `em just like my son."

I couldn't comprehend that within twenty four hours of arriving, I'd been hung up and horsewhipped.

After his pa had gone, Billy came over and asked how I was.

"I'll live," I replied. "What state is my back in?"

"It looks good," replied Billy, "very good. He's not cut you up."

"That's alright then," I replied with some very heavy irony.

I hung there wondering what the future might bring.

Life remained tough and we were worked hard every day bar Sunday. Billy and me grew close and often discussed his pa and his fondness for whipping guys. Billy saw it as almost normal, though even he conceded that he'd prefer life without the constant threat of the whip. He also let me know that it was good for him to have me there as his pa preferred to whip new meat. I suggested that I'd taken sufficient and Billy made no secret that I'd get more before his pa would be satisfied.

It wasn't too long before Billy was proven right. I worked ultra hard during the coming weeks so that nobody could suggest that I was slacking. Joe often congratulated me and he even told me that I was getting bigger and better with the work. At the end of the week just before my seventeenth birthday, Joe gave me a pay rise and he sent a cheque back home double the normal amount `as a bonus.'

I was well pleased, and as my birthday was on Sunday, I reasoned that Billy and me could chill out and relax.

On the Friday, at the end of the day, Joe drove up and took a look at our endeavours. He was pleased and genuinely congratulated us both on our improvement.

We were very pleased that the old man was suited.

"It's your seventeenth birthday on Sunday I hear," he said.

"Yes sir," I replied.

"Is there anything special that you are wanting?" he asked.

"No sir, thank you sir, the work and the wages are all I ever wanted thank you." I spoke as always in my most respectful manner.

"Well I've got something very special for you boy," he replied.

I must have looked curious.

"I'm going to let you demonstrate to us all how much stronger that back of yours is now," he stated.

My mouth dropped: "You mean?"

Joe answered, "Yes I mean. I mean that my horsewhip is coming out to play. Your big young back is going to get the seventeenth birthday present it deserves."

I didn't know what to say, "Thank you sir."

"That's settled then," said Joe. "Everyone is satisfied. Be at the main gate at mid-day on Sunday and don't bother with a shirt. I'll bring your present."

Joe turned and walked off to talk to some of the other men.

I stood there speechless and after a while we packed up the picks and shovels and prepared for the ride home.

Joe breezed past us as we were about to get in the truck.

He was in great spirits, "Have a good evening boys and get those bodies pumped up tomorrow so our birthday boy is ready for Sunday. I've invited all the men to the party."

Again I was rendered speechless, and the journey home was quiet.

I had a day and a half to contemplate my birthday fate. Now that I knew how bad a horsewhipping was, it was difficult to get through the next day and a half. I did consider running away, but I knew that if I did, I'd have no job, no money and no prospects. In addition, there was something deep inside me that wanted Joe to whip me. I felt that I needed to demonstrate that I was strong enough and brave enough to take the lash whenever it came calling.

Billy and me worked double-hard on Saturday. We worked shirtless as it encouraged me and made me strong. Billy told me how good and strong I was, and how wonderful I'd look strung up the next day. He explained how I should try to blank out the pain of the whip as his pa might lose interest if he thought I was taking it with ease.

I wasn't at all convinced, but I said that I'd give it a try.

I woke early on Sunday with no thought of celebrations. I washed, and then let Billy massage my tense shoulders and back. We dressed, and just chilled out for a while.

At 11.50, I took off my shirt and laid it on the bed, knowing that I wouldn't be wearing it again for a while. We walked together out into the sunshine. We saw the men gathered around the big gates of the ranch.

Billy had told me that his pa likes to hang his victims from the big cross-member of the gate. I visualised myself there and felt my dick stir.

The men parted as we approached. They looked impressed with me and they seemed obscenely excited.

"Good morning boys, you are right on time. Happy birthday nephew," grinned Joe. He already had his coiled whip in his hand. It looked shiny as if it had recently been oiled-up.

Joe nodded and four of the men came to me and took my wrists. Just as the first time, I was tied and the ropes were slung over the cross-member. There were two very big nails banged into the tops of the cross-member about six feet apart and the ropes were each thrown over the bar outboard of the nails. When they dragged me into the air, my arms spread and stretched high and very wide.

They dragged my boots and socks off. This just seemed to add extra humiliation. It left me feeling strangely vulnerable.

"Now you really look good Stevie boy," smiled Joe. "That back is an absolute picture of boy strength and vitality. It looks better for the extra muscle. I'm now going to improve the picture no-end."

I hung there sweating and trembling. The strange reality was that I wanted to feel the whip across my bare back once more. I needed old Joe to lash me till I could hardly breathe. I needed to take the whip and show the watching men how strong I was.

Joe continued, "As a special treat for your birthday, I'm going to keep it a secret how many strokes I'm going to give you today. It'll make it so much more exciting for you to be wondering how long we will progress with you."

I groaned and tried to look terrified and Joe and the watching men seemed suited.

"Happy birthday boy, remember the day of your seventeenth birthday with Uncle Joe," said the old man as he disappeared from my view.

Billy told me later that the whipping that my uncle Joe gave me that day was as cruel as any that he had seen him give before. He stopped and discussed each stroke with the men before the next was laid on. After every fifth lash, he came around the front to inspect me and to tell me there were still plenty more strokes in his arm. He asked me continuously how much I was enjoying my present. I don't suppose that my gabbled, brainless replies meant much except that I was in agony.

Joe finally stopped after twenty lashes. He asked me how it had been and I stupidly and sarcastically replied that it was wonderful.

"I knew that you'd love showing us how brave and strong of body you are," grinned Joe. "I'll let you have another five then."

My mouth dropped and I begged him to stop, but he just carried on anyway. He gave me the extra five slow lashes and each one hurt infinitely more than the last. At the end of that batch, I had taken enough and I certainly wasn't going to ask for more.

I was semi-delirious long before they sprinkled the salt onto my flesh. I then screamed like a baby and it seems that I more or less passed-out at that point which was merciful for me.

Joe left me hanging there.

It seems that I came round after ten minutes, but they didn't take me down for an hour.

I was finally dropped and then dragged to the bunk house and laid on my chest.

"How's it look," I asked Billy.

"Good, but bad," was the reply. "He did his best there Steve. He must like you."

"Yeah, it sure feels like it," I croaked.

I was lucky that it was Sunday, otherwise I wouldn't have had Billy there for the afternoon to tend to my back. He brought some `special ointment' from his pa. When Billy gently applied it across my skin, the pain seemed to dissolve away for a while. Joe's whip had broken my skin in a few places, but his skill had ensured that there wasn't too much long lasting damage. I was able to work (shirtless) on Monday, though it hurt like hell. The other men seemed to be more attracted to me than they had been before and Billy said that they admired my courage. In a couple of weeks, I was back to something like full strength. Fortunately, my back still had plenty of evidence to show what I'd taken.

I was only whipped once more before I left the ranch. My final whipping was on Christmas Day a few months after my birthday. Uncle Joe decided that we all needed to celebrate the festive season properly. He hung both me and Billy up together and gave us each two dozen lashes for Christmas. No other reason was ever given. He alternated the lashes between us. Afterwards, he let us down immediately (it was Christmas Day after all), and he personally put the ointment on our backs. We sat down at the big table for dinner afterwards. We were naturally shirtless and that brought it home to me how bizarre the whole situation was. My aunt asked me whether I had enjoyed the whipping that my uncle had given me. She asked as if he had given me the best present imaginable. I did sort of realise that there was a danger that I was getting to like the whipping too much for my own good. It was then that I decided to leave.

Despite my decision to leave, I actually ended up hanging around for some months (not literally).

A week after Christmas, a new guy arrived at the ranch. The new boy was called Chad and he was absolutely superb in every way. Chad was sixteen, just like I had been when I had arrived. The new boy had thick black hair and the most perfect smile. He was very polite and grateful for every little thing that me and Billy helped him with. It transpired that Chad had been set-up by some other boys from his neighbourhood. He'd been accused of robbing a store one night when in reality he'd been at home in bed. They couldn't actually prove anything, so Chad was given the opportunity of leaving town and coming to work for Joe for a couple of years. The kid was grateful to avoid a spell in jail, and he'd accepted the offer immediately.

What was the killer blow with Chad was that he had the body of a god. He had worked out since he'd been thirteen and he was the leanest, fittest, most muscular kid that I had ever seen in my life. Billy and me knew for sure that Joe would be helping Chad with his physical education very soon. This took the heat off us two, and for that we had to be grateful.

Chad's body hadn't one ounce of fat and it was therefore ripped to shreds. He seemed intent on keeping it that way and he constantly lifted weights and did hard exercises. The kid was quiet and respectful. It was obvious however, that he got his rocks off by showing his buff physique to the less well endowed guys. He had no idea that when the other guys smiled, they were all thinking that they'd soon see the young muscle boy tasting the whip across his vast expanse of a back.

We had Chad digging ditches during his first full week. We encouraged him to strip his shirt off by removing ours. He looked awesome when he worked in the ditch, sweating like a pig and glistening like a diamond.

Joe arrived exactly as we'd anticipated at about five on Friday. Chad was out of immediate view, down in the ditch. When Joe spoke to Billy and me and asked how the new boy was doing, we nodded towards the ditch and suggested he check him out for himself. Joe ambled over and he stopped dead. He seemed to shiver as he looked down on Chad. His voice trembled a little as he told Chad to get out so he could take a look at what he'd been doing all day. Chad scrambled up and he greeted Joe in his normal very respectful manner.

Joe's face was a picture as he stared at Chad's body. Both Billy and me knew all too well what must have been running through the old man's mind. Never before will he have seen such a marvellous bronzed young muscular subject for a thorough back whipping. We wondered how Joe would engineer the situation from here.

"You are a magnificent specimen of youth, Chad, my boy," said Joe. "That is a very fine body you have."

"Thank you sir, I'm hoping that I can do a lot of good for you here," replied Chad, smiling.

"Oh I'm sure that you will do me a lot of good," agreed Joe.

"I'm happy to do whatever you want whilst I'm here sir," stated Chad. "I need to learn and hopefully grow even stronger."

Joe couldn't contain himself any longer, "Your first lesson is about to begin boy."

"Great, what do you want me to do?" asked Chad enthusiastically.

"Show us all whether your mind is as strong as that back of yours looks," said Joe.

"OK, anything you say sir," grinned Chad, body glistening.

Within twenty minutes we had all been transported back to the farm.

Five minutes after arriving, young Chad was hanging with his arms spread-eagled from the main gate awaiting his first horsewhipping. He looked so absolutely incredible with his beautiful muscles stretched and striated. His nipples were plumped up and very erect. There were bulges in all of our pants. Chad's waist was incredibly small but rock hard. His washboard abdominals looked amazingly defined now that he was hanging from the gate.

Who knows what went through Chad's mind when Joe told him his fate. Incredibly, the boy thanked Joe and told him that he was grateful to him for everything.

Joe seemed a bit fazed, but it didn't stop him from treating young Chad's back to his full repertoire of strokes. Chad took to the whip like he was a veteran. I watched and marvelled at Chad's strength as the lashes cracked across his huge young back. I recalled the horror of my own first encounter. On that day, I had pissed myself upon the first stroke, then gagged and cried like a baby. Chad groaned and grimaced, but he didn't cry out or piss himself like I had done. We were all hugely impressed with the kid's bravery as each stroke cracked across his bare flesh.

After twelve, there was a big puddle of sweat beneath Chad's body. Joe went and asked the boy if he needed to learn anything else. Chad replied that he would always take guidance from Joe on his learning.

Joe gave Chad another twelve full and very slow strokes to contribute towards the boy's education. After that, the old guy looked ready to cream himself. He didn't bother asking Chad if he wanted any more, he just admired his work for a moment and then dashed off to the house.

They didn't salt the kid's back this time as Joe had avoided breaking his skin.

They let him down immediately, and Billy and me had a fine time helping Chad to get ease from his pain. His huge young flared back looked wonderful with its two dozen magnificent red stripes.

Just an hour later, we caught Chad stood at the sink in the bathroom beating his meat. Incredibly, the kid seemed totally unaffected by the severe whipping that he'd received.

He was however, a little bit embarrassed to be caught. He asked us not to tell Joe.

"Don't worry, we've no intention of telling Joe anything," I replied as I reached out to help.

"Oh you are so good to me," answered Chad, with true gratitude in his voice. "Do you want me to give you both a wank now?"

We were genuinely shocked -- for about ten seconds -- before we accepted Chad's kind offer.

Now you know why I decided to hang around for a few more months. During that time, Chad had visits to Joe's horsewhip at least every three weeks. He seemed to relish it even more with each visit to the gates. There was never any reason for Chad's whippings except that his back `looked like it needed some correction.'

Some months later, I finally, and quite reluctantly, returned home. My mother had been ill and she needed help. More or less as soon as I arrived, I found that my sweet young brother Pete had morphed into a wild child of fifteen. He was regularly giving mum a real hard time and his attitude was a big contributory factor to her illness. As soon as the boy turned sixteen, I personally transported him to Uncle Joe's `reformatory.'

I was invited to stay for a few days whilst my brother settled in. He was a miserable, ungrateful, lazy slob for that first week.

I had the pleasure of introducing Pete to Chad, and I could immediately see the admiration that Pete had for the muscular young stud.

Chad showed Pete the ropes. Whilst my kid brother was fit and wiry, he wasn't strong enough to keep up with the work.

Joe soon spotted the lazy streak in young Pete.

I can't say how much pleasure I got from watching the horror and fear in my kid brother's eyes when it dawned on him what Joe was proposing to do to him.

He fought like a tiger as they tied his wrists and started dragging him in the air. To some extent this added to the spectacle and enhanced our enjoyment as we observed at close quarters. He screamed and cried when the first lash landed across his narrow ribbed back. In the true family tradition, young Pete pissed himself upon stoke one.

Pete was a much nicer and more respectful boy from that day on, and I had no qualms in leaving him there to grow for the next two years.

When I next saw my brother, he was a man of eighteen and he was nicely muscled. He took some pride in showing me his striped back. By all accounts old Joe had given him plenty of treats.

The End.