The following story is fiction; just a fantasy. It contains scenes of males being spanked, including teen and public spankings. If this subject is offensive or uninteresting to you or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please stop reading now.
On February 13, 1998 Kent Stoneking posted a story Career Day in the newsgroup <soc.sexuality.spanking>. In response to my complaint of discrimination (via email) that only females were spanked in this story and there ought to be a Second Career Day he said: "Excellent suggestion, but somewhere, in the back of my mind, I'd know I was writing a -/M scene. However, if you want to take a crack at it, you have my blessing." This story is the result.
This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.
The author would appreciate your comments – pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions. Please take a moment to email.
Ms. Cox had been very pleased by the results of the first Career Day. She carefully reviewed the chastisement records for her class and found that there had been a sharp and permanent drop in the need for public classroom spankings. Last year she had not been previously able to convince principal Whitherspoon that it was a worthwhile thing to do. This year she had real proof that it was. Evidence in hand she went to Whitherspoon's office. A few minutes later she emerged – triumphant – with the mission of lining up the speakers.
It was The Second Career Day and Ms. Cox was very excited. So excited that she atypically needed to respond to a call of nature during the first period. She appointed the class president as monitor and rushed down the hall to tend to business. Less than five minutes later she was shocked as she re-entered her class room. Peter Jones and Mark Smith, both members of the varsity football team were toe-to-toe and nose-to-nose in a loud argument that was turning physical. The rest of the class was watching in awe and not doing the assignment she had left them. She immediately parked Peter and Mark in the two front corners of the room and the entire class got a lecture about tending to business. According to her usual practice, Pete and Mark were going to get their big fannies reddened in front of the class. Twenty-seven of the twenty-nine teenagers in that class were anxiously awaiting that four big buns event. Pete and Mark were the two exceptions.
The hormone laced students were immediately experiencing reaction in their crotches observing the two hunks with their noses stuck in their respective corners. Of course, the two them had their jeans at half mast and were exhibiting their big buns wrapped in their no-so-white briefs while standing in the corners. Ms. Cox had her own problem. Each of these miscreants was much bigger (physically) than she was; each of them was over two meters and one hundred kilos. She knew that her ruler was not going to have much of an effect on these two particularly if she wielded it herself. They routinely hit each other harder in fun, and certainly on the football field, then she could possibly do with her 149 cm and 43 kilos. As she dug deep into the bottom of her desk for the implement she wanted, a recent gift from a former student, two of the three Career Day guests arrived. Each of them vividly recalled classmate filled corners. It was immediately apparent that Ms. Cox had not changed.© YLeeCoyote
After minimal introductions, she told the guests that there were a couple of small problems that needed to be resolved before they started. Since the guests were both personally acquainted with the particular customs that prevailed in Ms. Cox's domain they knew what was in store. Both of them wondered how the physically petit lady was going to make an impression on the two huge adolescent boys who were each built like the proverbial brick outhouse.
Peter and Mark were summoned from their respective corners and told that they were going to get their fannies reddened before the guests spoke to prevent the distraction of them standing in the corner. The two hunks smiled as they thought of the light ruler usually wielded by the tiny lady (as they thought of her). Those two smiles faded as Ms. Cox held up the heavy oak fraternity paddle. However, on twenty seven other teen faces smiles broadened. "Boys" she explained, "you will each get ten hard strokes with this paddle. You will alternate hitting each other. Light strokes will not count but you will still alternate. If you both have weak strokes, then you each get an extra."
"Ms. Cox, perhaps we should do this tomorrow when we don't have visitors." suggested Peter hopefully.
"Of course, we can. If you prefer Mr. McForrest can take care of the matter in the assembly tomorrow." stated Ms. Cox sweetly. McForrest was the no nonsense, former Marine DI and the boys' sports coach. His paddling were legendary; not for their rarity but for their severity.
Mark turned pale at the thought and politely said: "Now will be just fine, Ms. Cox."
"Let us get this over with promptly. Now both of you drop your briefs and Peter you bend over the desk." said Ms. Cox as she handed the paddle to Mark. The titters that rippled through the class were not just from the girls. Many of the boys did not like these two for their bullying and arrogant ways. It would be a delight to see them paddle each other's bare asses particularly in front of the girls. The girls were likewise delighted that these two chauvinist pigs were going to get it. And they would learn the truth about what kind of horses they were. Well, that's the way they boasted they were hung. The truth would soon be revealed to all as the two boys would have to alternate between profile and posterior views for the class. And, of course, the finale: an anterior view for the wrap up apology. Throughout the room crotches swelled and dampened at the anticipation in both boys and girls alike.
After a pause, Pete faced the desk, pulled his briefs down and bent over so as to present his ass for the class' inspection and the paddle now in the hand of his buddy. What must be must be mussed Mark silently as he pulled down his own briefs and stood in position to paddle his teammate. He was very embarrassed and his genitals were not only flaccid but shrunken. Many of the girls thought that except for the hair he looked like their little brothers; very little brothers. Mark raised the paddle and stuck Pete's raised and waiting butt with a soft whack. "Class, does that count?" Ms. Cox sarcastically asked.
There was a resounding "NO WAY, MS. COX!" from the class. Even the other jocks in the class wanted this to be real so that they could see if they could take it. Who wants pussy sissies for teammates? Pete took the paddle and positioned himself with it. His equipment was not in any better shape than Mark's. He raised and swung the paddle. And, again, the class decreed: "NO WAY, MS. COX!"
"That will be eleven boys. Let's get this over with." This time Mark brought the paddle down on Pete's butt with a resounding WHACK and Pete let out a yelp.
"Right on!" yelled someone in the class. Pete took the paddle. He was mad. The blow had HURT. He wanted to get even. All that mattered was getting even. He swung the paddle as hard as he could. This brought the hoped for yell from Mark. The two immediately forgot their audience for the nonce and also the reason for being in this situation. They were now in combat – the object of this completion was to hurt; to make the other yield to the pain – to win! But that could not happen. Now primitive biology was taking over. As they fought, hormones and endorphins filled their bodies. The rough stimulation of their butts caused each of them to get an erection. It was evident to all that they were like small pygmy horses and average humans.
As soon as they each had the eleven prescribed strokes, Ms. Cox said "Stop. Now is the time for your apologies." The two, still in the own private war zone, turned to face the class.
Before they could speak, some smartass called out from the back of the room: "Who are you pointing at?" They suddenly realized they were standing in front of the whole class – including the girls and Ms. Cox – and were the only ones with hard and exposed cocks.
They quickly put their hands in front of their crotches but it was too late; everyone had seen them. "HANDS AT YOUR SIDES, BOYS" snapped Ms. Cox. They each quickly mumbled a vague apology. They also blushed all over so that their faces were as red as their bottoms.
Ms. Cox then said: "Pull up your pants and return to your seats. We have guests to listen to." Pete and Mark quickly pulled up their briefs and jeans. They could not hide how their erections caused their jeans to tent. They were so happy to be out of the limelight that they did not care how much it hurt to sit on the wooden desk seats. They would hurt a great deal in the next few days when the endorphins were gone.
This was not a class that anyone would soon forget. By the end of lunch every one in the school would have had heard the story.
The guests had a very hard act to follow.
Ms. Cox introduced the first speaker-guest. Ms. Tanner had graduated a few years earlier and was the office manager for her family's business. First she recalled how both she and her brother had endured the standard treatment offered by Ms. Cox's ruler and how their father had liked the idea. He liked the idea so very much that it was now part of the family business. Spankings were even described in the company's Employee Handbook.
Ms. Tanner was soon talking about George. He had been hired as an office boy last summer right after he graduated high school. He needed to earn some money so that he could go to college. It was just his third day when he got his first on-the-job-spanking. He was due at 0730, so that the first mail could be delivered before the office opened at 0830. He was two and half hours late because he had gone out with his friends the night before. (They did not have to work.)
Before the morning was over George was in Ms. Tanner's office being told that this was not acceptable behavior. His irresponsible behavior impacted on the efficiency of others and thus on the whole company. It was the old story of 'for the want of a nail the horse was lost … the kingdom was lost'. George was given a choice: discharge (he was still on probation) or a spanking. Hobson had more choices he thought as he reluctantly agreed to the spanking. Ms. Tanner led him to the employee lunch room. As it was now 1215 the room was crowded. At one end of the room was a raised platform with a simple chair. She sat down on it with George standing next to her. As if by magic, a hush fell over the room and all eyes turned to watch.
Ms. Tanner opened George's belt and slacks. Then she pulled them down to below his knees. This was just like his parents had done when he was a little boy. Although he was not a little boy any more; it was happening to him just the same as if he was; in fact it was worse for he was in a room full of strangers. He did not realize that most of those watching had gone through this before him and presumably many others would do so after him. He was most acutely aware that he was very embarrassed. When Ms. Tanner put her thumb into the waistband of his briefs he squealed: "No. Please don't." and instantly was blushing all over. She did not listen to his plea and two seconds later she lowered his briefs. Ms. Tanner noticed that he had a heart shaped birthmark just above his pubes. A gentle tug and he fell over her lap with one bit of relief – his privates were no longer on public display. It was questionable that this was an improvement as her hand came crashing down on his upturned naked butt. SMACK! A red hand print was immediately evident upon the struck buns. George was astounded at the intensity of the blows continuously striking his increasingly painful and crimson buns.
After what seemed to be an eternity she stopped. Another couple of minutes and George would have been in tears. She stood him up and put him into the corner. She lifted the tail of his shirt and tucked it into his collar. "You are to stand here in the corner until 1245. That will be the second time the bell sounds." George knew that the bell rang every fifteen minutes so that he would be exposed at least that long. He was truly regretting his irresponsible behavior last night. He wondered how he would be able to face his coworkers when he made his rounds in the afternoon. On the other hand, he was grateful for not having been being fired.
When the bell rung the second time he quickly pulled up his pants and dashed for the lavatory. There he adjusted his clothes in the privacy of a stall and washed up. That afternoon, he was constantly blushing thinking that everyone was talking about his hot, red buns. The actual truth was the only ones who did were doing so for sexual reasons. George's buns were very, very cute; sexy cute; particularly when rosy red.
It was a month later and George was now scheduled for a late shift – 1100 to 2000. One morning when he reported for work his supervisor told him to go directly to the main office. Mr. Higgans reminded him of his own father – the same image of a mature proper gentleman. "George," the man asked "did you use the copier last evening?"
"Yes, Sir; there were several copying jobs that took about an hour."
"I mean for anything personal, very personal, young man?"
"Sir?" George said innocently. He had indeed had done something very personal copying. In the almost deserted office, he had lowered his trousers and briefs, and copied his equipment. He even had gotten hard and did it again. He was certain that he had taken all the copies.
George, one of the secretaries almost fainted when she was sorting the copies she had just made. That was because she found this." He took out a sheet of paper from an envelope and handed it to George. "Do you recognize that birthmark?"
There was no point denying it. The evidence was as unique as if he had signed the picture of his hardon. "Yes, Sir. It was an accident, I thought that I had taken all the copies. I certainly did want to offend anyone."
"I'm sure that you did want to do that, lad, but you did. Of course, if you hadn't been making copies in the first place it never would have happened. And making personal copies is strictly against the company rules and is technically STEALING."
"Yes, Sir. I won't do it again."
"Do you remember what the Employee's Handbook says?"
"Not exactly, Sir."
"Well, look at it when you get back to the mail room and then meet me in the lunch room at 1220."
At the appointed time George approached the waiting Mr. Higgins on the raised platform. He got the order immediately: "Please, drop your pants and underwear to your knees and lean over the chair, George."
The young man did as he was told and Mr. Higgins raised his arm and swiftly brought it back down. This caused the 65 x 6 cm heavy leather strap in his hand to come crashing down on the waiting target. There was the expected SPLAT as the strap connected with the defenseless buns, and then a red strip appeared marking where the contact had been made. And finally, George whispered: "One, Sir."
This was repeated until George said: "Ten, Sir." Then he was permitted to raise his pants and return to work. That was a few years ago and George has been a diligent worker since then.
Ms. Cox thanked her guest. The class was too stunned to ask any questions.
Michael Roger Kennedy was late. He was due in Ms. Cox's classroom at 0930 and it now was 1028 by the school's clock as he dashed up the main stair to the hall monitor. The monitor was a little surprised at his appearance. He had seen Ms. Cox's other guests and they were all very presentable – hair combed, clean and neat business dress, shined shoes and, of course, punctual. But it was not his place to correct a visitor so he just did his assignment and politely directed Michael to the office to get a visitor's pass. MRK entered Ms. Cox's classroom just as she was saying: "Class, I was expecting another former student but he's not here. So we will continue…." She stopped in mid-sentence as the classroom door flew open, smashing loudly into the wall (another no-no), and MRK dashed in saying:
"Very sorry I [sic] late Ms. Cox. [sic] Missed the bus."
"Michael, you are a mess; what happened?" she asked, ignoring the bad grammar.
"When I was running across the park, I got caught by the sprinklers, then I slipped on the wet pavement and fell onto the wet grass. But it was much too late to go back to change, Ms. Cox. I'm very sorry, really."
The class was shocked. Ms. Cox was very insistent that they be presentable and punctual. She had even reddened a few butts for such transgressions. She constantly told them that they were 'young ladies and gentlemen and she expected that they look and act the parts'. That included that the boys wearing ties. It was rumored that she was the one that insisted that the new, young vice-principal also wear a tie; turtlenecks she said were for turtles. Dress-down Friday was akin to blasphemy to her.
Ms. Cox went digging in her desk for the second time this morning. In just seconds she came up with a class grade book. As she looked in it, the class could see that it was dated two years earlier. "Michael" she said, "I see that you have not changed your ways. You used to require a spanking every six weeks to remind you that you needed to be punctual and presentable. It seems that you need another reminder. Please drop your muddy trousers and lean over the desk."
The class went into hysterics until the tapping of the feared ruler was heard. As silence descended, Michael said: "You must be joking, Ms. Cox."
Ms. Cox snapped at him sharply. "No back talk, Young Man; NOW!" It was then the class realized that Ms. Cox was treating her guest just as if he was still a student. Something snapped in the young man and he felt like he was a student again. The class watched in awe as he opened his belt, dropped his trousers and leaned over the desk as ordered by his former school marm. Meanwhile, Ms. Cox picked up the still warm paddle from her desk and asked Zachary Zenger to please come forward. Zak was a large young man and a top gymnast. He was also very strong. She handed him the paddle and directed him to administer ten hard strokes.
Pleasantly amazed, he said: "Yes, Ms. Cox." accepted the paddle and moved into position.
Just as he was about to start she held up her hand to indicate that he was to wait and stepped up behind the unfortunate Mr. Kennedy. She slipped her index fingers into the waistband of his boxer shorts and lowered them to the young man's knees. A slight nod to the paddle holder and he brought it down on the target with a definite resounding thud immediately followed by a yell. A broad red stripe immediately formed across the target buns.
By the fifth paddle stroke, Michael's bottom was a hot crimson red. Zak had managed to use his athletic skills to uniformly attack the unfortunate butt. Three minutes and an additional five paddle strikes later Michael Roger Kennedy was standing in the corner, with his hot, red butt exposed to Ms. Cox's still amazed class.
With Michael parked in the corner Ms. Cox then turned to the class and explained that they would continue with the third guest for the day and proceeded to introduce him in greater detail than before. Many in the class had noticed the dignified bearing the well dressed Mr. Gerard presented. "Mr. Gerard of the Gerard Construction Company has promised me a wonderful tale. I'm sure that you all know of his firm." Mr. Gerard stepped to the front of the class and started to speak.
When I got out of college with my shiny engineering degree, I was certain that I knew everything and the best way to do everything. My father realized this and arranged for me to work on a construction site in the next state for a friend of his. He explained, somewhat evasively, that starting as the boss' inexperienced son is not a good thing.
A week later, I was at my first real job not counting being an office boy during the summers. I stayed at Miss. Tilly's Boarding House where several other out of state workers stayed. She set a good table and packed great lunches. On my first morning on the job, I was shocked to discover that, first, no one was interested in My Great Knowledge or, for that matter, in my degree and, second, I was the gofer of choice. All day long it was: "Gerard, go fer this."; "Boy, go fer that, pronto." and "Kid help unload that truck." They were particularly not interested in my great ideas about how to do their jobs better.
I got my lesson on that first Wednesday evening at quitting time. We had locked up the equipment and most of the guys had left for home. The first couple of days, the guys I was riding with were never the last to leave but I thought nothing of this delay. Then the guys surrounded me. There were only three, but that was plenty. They explained that I was being a wiseass pest and, even worse, cutting into their bonuses by slowing down the project. Then came the clincher: they were going to punish me – corporally. The class snickered. That's right kids, just like Ms. Cox does when you act up.
Then Tom, the biggest one, said: "Get your butt over here, now!"
As you can imagine, I objected and refused.
Then Dick continued: "You can do this the easy way or the hard way, boy."
I started to make for the woods but they grabbed me and tied me, bent over, to a couple of studs. Believe me, they were well nailed into place. One of them reached under me and opened my jeans while the second pulled them down. My jeans were soon followed by my briefs leaving me bare assed and in position. Then they each took their heavy leather belts and proceeded to strap my ass. You can believe that hurt. They were big, strong and mad! They definitely got that message across. I was screaming. They laughed at that because we were in the middle of nowhere for this construction job. They must have given me some fifteen or twenty blows – each. They let me scream for a few minutes and then they untied me.
Again, it was Tom who spoke. "Shutup and get your sorry ass over here, boy, pronto.
You can bet that I did that. When I was in front of him he asked: "Ready to this the easy way yet?" I nodded and he pulled me over his lap. He proceeded to spank me. Particularly after the strapping, my bottom was no match for his tough hand attached to a strong arm. I quickly felt like a naughty small boy and was soon bawling like one. Then I got the lecture that I was just a cub and should watch and learn.
Then Dick and Harry had their turns. You can bet that I had one very red and very sore ass that evening. It hurt through to the next week. With my jeans still down Harry picked me up like I was a sack of sand, put me over his shoulder and sat me down on the sun baked car seat. The hot seat, particularly on the bumps did not feel good at all on my hot bottom. When we got back to Miss. Tilly's, one of them handed me a wet handkerchief and said to wipe my face so that Miss. Tilly wouldn't know they worked with a crybaby. I kept my mouth shut for a long time after that and learnt a great deal.
Fifteen years later, I met Tom. I told him that I hated him for a long time after that spanking but had gradually understood that it was for my own good. And that I wanted to thank him for it. He laughed heartily and then told me that it was a put up job. My own father had asked them to do because I was far too much of a smartass to take into the business. That summer I learnt a great deal about the world and how to behave. Some if it I could have learnt in this very classroom. Mr. Gerard looked at the red bottomed young man in the corner. As embarrassed as he is I hope that he realizes that there is much to learn here.
Ms. Cox told Michael to pull up his pants and come meet the last guest. After the introduction, Ms. Cox asked Mr. Gerard if he would consider hiring Michael. He really is a good lad but he needs a little help occasionally. Mr. Gerard gave Michael his business card and told him to call in the morning.
Then the lunch period bell rang and the class evaporated. The lavatories were more crowded than usual that day.
© Copyright A.I.L., June 22, 1998
The URL for this page is: https://yleecoyote.asslr.org/CareerDayRevisited.html
Last updated: September 15, 2023