The following story is fiction about male/male spanking. The story contains scenes of spanking and strapping. If these subjects are offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.
This was inspired by what happened to me recently when I was walking on the sidewalk. Suddenly there was this arm in front of my face from a rambunctious youth. He said "Sorry." Most fortunately, he did not actually strike me. After he passed me, I noticed he had a very spankable butt in snug pink shorts and was far to old to be that careless. Thus this story which is set a century ago when many atitutes were different.
The expression Green Light Hotel is an old reference to a police station or jail in New York City from the time it was New Amsterdam.
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I was walking peacefully on the sidewalk to my destination. It was a pleasant day and I was not in a hurry. Fortunately, my reflexes are superb for a youth was jumping about like some dancer shown in the obits just a day before. Unfortunately he was not on a dance stage or in a rehearsal space but on the very public shared location of a city street.
However, I have super reflexes and when a fist suddenly whizzed by my face missing my nose by only a few millimeters I reacted. I grabbed the propelling arm and yanked and twisted hard. The owner of the arm suddenly found himself pushed up hard against the fence that bordered the city park on that block with his right wrist trying its very best to be above his collar. He was also howling both in shock and pain.
"QUIET, Laddie." I barked at him. "Why did you try to hit and injure me? We don't even know each other. You could have caused me real injury."
"Sorry." he mumbled. "I did not try to hit you for I did not even see you, I was just jumping about, Sir."
"Well, I'll just find a cop who will check you into the Green Light Hotel and the Magistrate will decide if thirty days is sufficient for you to repent and consider other behaviors than assault on the public highway. Or maybe that you need sixty days to reflect thoroughly. Or even that reform school would be best."© YLeeCoyote
"Oh, please Sir. Not that, please." he begged.
"Sir, it was just an accident and he did not intend to hit you nor did he." said his friend and now his advocate. "He is only a boy of fifteen years, Sir. Please don't make him a criminal."
That touched me for he really was only a boy. "But such terrible behavior must be punished." I said continuing to be harsh and then after a pause I continued: "I shall SPANK you instead!"
"Thank you, Sir." said the advocate.
The miscreant reacted silently by not resisting as he had been doing. He was surely familiar with receiving spankings as is every boy. I propelled him to the nearby bench. I pulled his belt out of his trousers and then unbuttoned them. They fell to the ground. I yanked his drawers down to below his knees. He went over my lap easily perhaps to hide his privates or perhaps he was very used to the position.
"Give it to him! Give it to him real good. These young whippersnappers get away with far too much these days. I saw how he almost struck you." interjected a passerby who had stopped. Another passerby immediately seconded the idea.
I proceeded to spank him with my hand. He had a hard butt and after leaving a few of my hand prints on him, I switched to using his belt. I folded it and wrapped the ends about my hand to get a good grip. I proceed to erase my hand prints with some massive overwrites with the belt. Now all the energy of my swing transferred to his butt and spared my hand. He was tough but I (and the belt) was tougher and soon I had his bottom a flaming hot-red pain center and harboring a great fire inside. He was stoic and did not yell out although he was whimpering before I stopped.
When I told him to get up, there was some applause from the few passersby who had stopped to watch which I acknowledged. A couple of smirking kids quickly disappeared into the park.
"Thank you, Sir. I'll be more careful in the future." he said after he pulled up his trousers. His friend rushed him away and I continued on my way.
© Copyright A.I.L. September 2, 2018
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Last updated: September 15, 2023