Piccolo's Boot Camp (Manicorn)

[MelloMelon]

Tein Shinhan, for his part, was very much impressed with Piccolo's display of prowess in this... punishment. Sweat slipped down his temple as he stood, awe-struck at the sheer speed and strength behind the alien Z-Fighter's striking.

"He's gotten even stronger since the battle with Cell! Such speed!" He declared, clenching a fist before him, amazed and even commending the other warrior even through his anxiousness at what could eventually befall him in the future should he not adhere to the Namekian’s rigid training regime. He turned a brief glance to Yamcha, sharing his look of wonderment, “Even I’m struggling to keep up with it! Amazing...!"

Gohan hadn't taken a beating from the powerful Namekian for an age now, and it really showed. He felt as though his ass was being stripped systematically of the flesh there so tender had it become under only a couple of minutes' pounding. He didn't have the presence of mind to be ashamed of his howls and cries, as he had no way of stopping them! Just as always in this position, over his mentor's mighty thighs with his round demi-saiyan buns presented to all the world and more importantly, to the rigid green palm that was now a rigid green blur. No way of countering. It was though all his battle smarts left him when over a warrior’s knee ready for a spanking.

Seemed to happen with a lot of the bigger, stronger warriors around. As though their entire lives steeped in battle were wiped as soon as their rumps were bared and getting thoroughly trounced.

"Oowowowow!! Piccolo, I'm sor—SORRY OWW! I-I pr-prOWWPROMISE I-I-AYAAAHH!"

Piccolo never pulled his punches when he declared that he wouldn't and Son Gohan knew that now more than ever as tears cascaded down his flushed cheeks, blurring his vision of the earth beneath him. His own powerful fists clenched and one gripped the Namekian's calf, priding himself on not reaching back into that blurred line of fire smashing down his bubbled buns and setting them aflame. His one shred of Saiyan pride left behind all those yowls and howls and now sobs.

[Manicorn]

Piccolo nodded, then bent Gohan further so his bare bottom was even more vulnerable. "Good. And I'm proud of you for acknowledging your mistake, Gohan. I'll make sure to give enough discipline so it won't happen again. We're about halfway done."

At that, Yamcha stared at Tien. Halfway done? It seemed like the spanking had only just started. And yet, Gohan's buns already looked as red and swollen as though they'd been beaten relentlessly for over an hour.

"Eyes front, Krillin!" Piccolo suddenly barked. The short human jumped, then quickly turned to face the wall again. His own cheeks blazed out in the open, seemingly burning in sympathy with Gohan's.

Piccolo thoughtfully gathered Gohan's wrists and pressed them against his back. Then he raised his hand again. "This is going to hurt you much, much more than it's going to hurt me," he intoned, right before whipping his palm yet again on those muscular cheeks, going back over all the areas he'd previously spanked, raising the heat even hotter and leaving no inch of saiyan skin untouched.

[MelloMelon]

"H-huh... ?" Gohan mewled anxiously, daring a glance over his shoulder before he started as he was pushed forward, his barbed haired head forced down, "Wh-hey!"

At his mentor's words of warning, those twisted from his mom's promises of severity hurting herself more than her two sons, the demi-saiyan had barely a moment to gulp before the new caustic barrage came down across his bare ass with all the ferocity of raw lightening.

The young man stared with wide black eyes before him, seemingly into an infinite distance, a look of pure awe and shock on his face at the sheer completeness of pain that suddenly burst across his already thoroughly trounced rear. His mouth, now agape, seemed to voice several inaudible words before he drew in a breath, inflating his powerful saiyan lungs evolved for the battle-roars of war and fighting, to let rip with a series of impressive howls. Tien's three eyes bulged as he felt as though his ears might burst at that – Kami knew what it would do to the Namekian's sensitive lobes.

If the hybrid-human didn't know better, he could imagine the kid's father bearing witness to his son’s ordeal from the Great Beyond through the sound alone.

Though... the shining, ripe apple-redness of Son Gohan's naked buttocks really sent Tien's mind into a frenzy of concern for his own self. Or, more rightly, his own backside, which he unconsciously placed a calloused hand in sympathy upon. His firm, muscular buns tensed under his green gi, as if bracing in sympathy against the very strikes that were being meted out all over the entire blistered mass of Gohan's rump.

[Manicorn]

Piccolo didn't hold back. The training would be pointless if he did. Not only was he going to teach the four Z Fighters how to buckle down and get back into shape, he was going to teach them how to endure hardship as well. His palm lashed across every inch of Gohan's fantastic bottom, each slap a new flare of pain, and all delivered so fast he couldn't even register them as separate hits.

Part of it was a show, of course. Piccolo wasn't without a flare for the dramatic when necessary, and he knew both Yamcha and Tien were staring agape at Gohan getting his just desserts. Both their butts were tensing with reflexive sympathy for their friend Goku's progeny, no doubt picturing how they'd handle such a fiery, relentless punishment themselves. If they played their cards right they might get through the training camp without finding out, but Piccolo doubted they'd last even until the next morning. Men like them, when one got spanked it wasn't long until they all were, like a row of sobbing, bare-bottomed dominoes.

Speaking of sobbing, it was about time for him to wrap up Gohan's spanking. With a last three dozen stinging licks he stood him up. The demi-saiyan was hiccuping with tears in his eyes, just like when he'd been a boy. Piccolo didn't show mercy however, but just steered him towards the same cliff face Krillin was standing against. "Hands on your head, and no rubbing," he directed. "And don't even think about pulling your pants up."

[MelloMelon]

Son Gohan knew from brutal experience that his hands were to stay on his head, as far away from the blazing set of suns that were his red raw and glowing buttocks at his green mentor’s command. As he sidled beside his fellow Z-Fighter, he flushed more hotly, thoroughly embarrassed by the fat tears that were making his cheeks shine. His poor beaten backside seemed to be giving off its own energy source and the demi-saiyan feared foolishly that he might be putting Krillin at risk of sunburn just from being so close. With a wet sniffle, he took a sidestep away from the ex-monk, his head down and muscled buns clenching and unclenching uselessly.

Piccolo was feeling a certain self-satisfaction from this little workout. Barring the faintest of heat in his battle-hardened palm, he had barely felt any affects from his rigorous workout. Despite being out-of-practice, being without any apprentices or fellow fighter (or even enemy) bottoms to beat, he felt that he was on greater form than he had ever been in this regard. His muscled arms flexed expectantly as he stared at the two remaining warriors before him, narrow dark eyes surveying the two, daring either one to raise a question. Anything. He considered his options, feeling that time would be wasted in waiting on Gohan and Krillin to finish their ruminations should he not fill the time with more constructive activity. He chewed his inner lip and frowned. He'd yet to sate his frustration despite his vigorous pounding of a pair of fine, if out-of-practice male bums, and although he considered it somewhat serving of his self, he wanted to work it out on the remaining two remaining men.

They’d need to learn endurance regardless. This would be an agreeable means to test out how they fared now against when they completed the regime in a couple of weeks.

With that in mind, his gaze flickered between the two fighters, and soon settled on the scarred man, “You.” He beckoned with a tilt of the head to the same boulder that had been the mantle for his punishment of his young Saiyan charge.

[Manicorn]

"M-me?"

Yamcha looked from Piccolo's forbidden face to the boulder, then back again.

"H-hey, now c'mon," he said with an uneasy chuckle, trying to put a joke to it even as his finely muscled buttocks clenched inside the relative safety of his gi pants. "You're not thinking of... I mean... I haven't even done anything yet!"

He glanced at Tien at his side, hoping for some support from his fellow fighter. "C'mon Tien, back me up here!" he hissed out the side of his mouth.