I'd taken the cane a good few times in school, but nothing prepared me for my judicial caning in Mombasa. I was 15 and had been convicted of trying to shoot someone with an air rifle. I didn't do it but the new government in Kenya in 1965 wanted to show they were really independent of their hated white masters, so I lost my case.
The sentence was six strokes of the cane. Hard enough to take from an 18 year old school prefect, which I'd done OK. But this time it was from the Court. I'd been warned it would be very hard to take.
Thankfully, the sentence was carried out immediately. I was taken to a room where there were three men waiting -- a muscly sergeant to deliver the punishment, an askari (or entry-level soldier) to hold me down across the vaulting horse, and a witness. The askari was cute, he was about 18 to 20 and very tall and slim. The sergeant was about 30 and built. I didn't take in the witness at first.
I was wearing my school shorts -- tight khaki. The witness said "Six strokes, Sergeant."
"Yes sir!" The sergeant replied. He said to me "Bend over!"
I bent. The askari took hold of my arms and pulled me up on the horse so my arse was raised right on the corner of it. My khaki cotton drill shorts were pulled tight across my arse.
"Begin!"
Thwack! The first cut took me before I was ready. There was a fire in my arse, followed by a deep dull pain. I set myself to take the rest, but the sergeant was taking his time, enjoying dishing it out. He made sure I was getting the benefit before he brought his strong arm down again.
Thwack! I felt myself getting hard so I wriggled my arse and spread my legs a bit wider. The askari saw this and pulled me up on the horse some more. I was looking right into his crotch and I was sure he was getting hard too. Spreading my legs had tightened my shorts even more.
Thwack!! the third stroke of the cane came down, I'm sure harder than the first two. This was far harder than anything I'd ever taken at school and I didn't think I could take any more. I managed not to scream out, but it took all my resolve. My arse felt like it was on fire.
Thwack!! I cried out at that one, I couldn't hold it back. It hurt so bloody much. I thrashed around on the horse but only succeeded in stretching my legs farther apart.
The sergeant knew exactly what he was doing. He waited even longer this time. My cock was harder than it'd ever been, rubbing up against the leather of the vaulting horse and kept there by the sexy young askari. I wriggled my arse again, I couldn't help it.
THWACK! The hardest yet, and I spunked just after the cane landed. I let out a groan of pain and pleasure mixed, as my creamy cum flooded my shorts. I was in heaven!
THWACK!! The last stroke came down on my quivering buttocks, harder than any of the rest. I cried out in real pain and tears ran down my face. But the askari pulled me upright and let go of my arms. I started rubbing my throbbing arse, and he put out a hand and fondled my cum-drenched balls.
The witness said "Well taken, Boy!"
After a few more moments of the askari's attention, I turned to him and said "Thank you, Sir!" The sergeant just smiled.