BBFC: Matthew Late

Nobility can come at a painful price, in this perky puerile-prize-puppy’s priviliged position a particularly-pitifully-pink-to-pain-purple-pounded pantless posterior. While Catholic canonization-candidate Krystof cheers for his fellow best-behaved buddy and young Jan aptly adores both as amazingly-admirable examples, for fatally-frequently-for-flippance-flogged-foppish-foolish-fellows like Viktor and Paco, Teodor’s all-AAs golden boy inspires intense green-envious jealousy, as if he (too?) deserved their dreafdully-dire due daily deserts doses of dejectedly-dick-dangling defrocked-derriere-dooming discipline, instead of plenty of proper performance-praise and remarkably rare penalties per peccadilos.
Finding it unbearble ‘injustice’ they got whooped for wayward ways and poor grades twenty times each this week and all-AAs Matthew not at all on best behavior, the jealous duo sneaked in while the smart squirt slept to systematically soil his smart clothes with sticky, smelly sludge. So waking up for his weekly trustee task, to help Teodor with the house accountancy, he had nothing to wear but(t) the briefs on his butt, none of his mates having such small size.
While Krystof rushes to get enough of his things cleaned before school, Matthew reports for duty and decides against ratting, rather relying on reliably-responding strict Sir supposing something similar, so instead of the frightful full-force-flogged-flailing likely to be incurred by a usual suspect in such state, he gets off with a semi-symbolical stripping-spanking stern-submissively-sticking-out. It’s mild by the house standards and near-nothing compared to the terrible teen-tail-terror at home, and something tells him karma will make it pale with the comeuppances the cruel cloth-cluttering cahoots can have coming up considering their careless, contemptibly-cruel counter-comrades-code conduct.