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This story is fiction and deals with the spanking of youth and suicide.  If such subjects are offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.

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.



I did not know where I was.  I could tell it was some sort of waiting room for creatures were coming and going constantly.  I saw new arrivals come in, sit and wait – just as I had done.  Others would suddenly get up and leave using the portals indicated by a blinking light.  Strangely, I did not hear any calls yet it all appeared most orderly.  Although everyone was comfortable breathing the same air and being at the same temperature, it was obvious that not everyone was human.  As everyone was naked (or should that be nude?) there was a far greater variety in bodies than in the sci-fi shows I had seen on the screen.  My sense of time was certainly off and I didn't feel any need to eat or eliminate.  The silence was most weird for everyone was mute.

I did not understand what was going on.  I was, however, extremely self-aware and could remember in fine detail my past – even back to when I was an infant and before I had words.  I reviewed most of my memories.  Prior to this place, there had been a period of absolute blackness of some indeterminate duration.  Immediately before that there had been a supernova (for the lack of a better word) in my head and a great pain in my neck.  I did not have to perform any tests to know that my neck was functioning normally now since I had been looking about and there had not been any pain.

I reviewed my past.  There were happy times that I felt good about.  There were painful times also.  Strangely the pain of some of them seemed less intense than I thought they should have been compared to the pleasure of the happy times.  Certainly, that was still another puzzlement.  I was reviewing my most recent past – at least that which I could recall.  The unhappy times greatly outnumbered the good times and gradually I was recalling the period leading up to the supernova occurrence.  I wondered why my body remained calm as I had these most unpleasant and emotional thoughts.  I hid my face in my hands as my most recent memories coalesced in my consciousness to close the gap.  Sunday had been my fourteenth birthday party.  I had my friends over – all two of them – and Milton, my eleven-year-old brother, was also there.  My parents – my uncaring mother and my cruel stepfather – had come downstairs with my so-called present.

"Here, for the big baby – a package of diapers." sneered my stepfather.  It was nasty but as my friends knew that I needed diapers, and did not care, it did not really matter.  "And starting Tuesday, when you turn fourteen, Milton will be in charge and shall spank you whenever you wet or disobey.  Diapers are for babies!"

I knew that was coming but just then I wet my diaper and my stepfather noticed.  He did not waste any time but immediately grabbed me, pulled down my pants, yanked down my diaper, flipped me over his lap and spanked me long and hard.  He spanked me so long and hard that I cried like a baby.© YLeeCoyote

"I'll break you of this wish to wear diapers, boy, if it's the last thing I do." he said as he pushed me off his lap and left.  My friends helped me to put on a fresh diaper and pull up my pants while my brother watched.  I did not even get any birthday wishes from my parents.

Monday was the usual sort of school day.  After dinner I got spanked; spanked for wetting my diaper.  As always, I pleaded with my stepfather that I could not control it and that I did not want to wear a diaper but had to.  "Do you think it's fun being made fun of constantly?" I asked to no avail as I was flipped over the parental lap again for my daily spanking.  As always, I cried.

At breakfast Tuesday my stepfather reminded me that my kid brother was now in charge.  He had said that would happen months ago if I was still using diapers by my fourteenth birthday.  It was a normal day until I returned home.  I needed a change, as usual, when Milton appeared.  "You're wet again so I have to spank you, Ryan."  he said.

"No, little brother, that is wrong and I won't allow it."  I said it as firmly as I could but was careful not to scare my brother.  "I can never allow that, for I love you."  He did not argue for he knew he could not force me.

At dinner, my stepfather asked Milton if he had spanked his wet diaper baby brother.  Before my brother could answer, I spoke.  "I cannot; will not allow that.  It is wrong.  It is wrong that you spank me for wetting for I cannot control that."  My stepfather was, as expected, furious at my standing up for myself and for my defiance.  In less than a minute I was across my stepfather's lap, bare bottom, getting a very hard spanking.  There were some ten minutes of rapid and hard spanks that turned my butt fiery red and my eyes into fountains.  I was soon limp.  My stepfather lifted me up and placed me across Milton's lap.

"SPANK HIM, Milt!" was the order.  Milt did as he was ordered for he also had known the wrath of his father.  Because my butt was already tender, Milt's spanks were painful.  I cried for an hour while stretched out on my bed.  Milton brought me a washcloth with ice in it and told me he was sorry but he was afraid not to obey.  We hugged each other.  I told him I understood that he was not responsible.

I had previously decided that there was only one way out of the hell I was stuck in.  I had made preparations and had gotten everything I would need so now I was concentrating on exactly what I wanted to say to everyone.  My stepfather was easy as was my uncaring mother.  I worked out the details for my two live friends and several in cyberspace.  Milt was the hardest one of all for he was the one I most cared about in the entire world and the most vulnerable.

* * * * * * * * * *

Wednesday was not an ordinary day. My alarm woke me and I pretended to go off to school but returned home an hour later.  The house was empty for this was my mother's going-to-the-city day; my stepfather was at work and Milt was at school.  I got to work.

First, I wrote the brief and very bitter letter to my parents.

Cruel and evil stepfather and uncaring mother:
        Ever since you married, you have made my life a living hell with your arrogance and cruelty; beating me for what I cannot control.  Well, no longer.  I hope that you both rot in hell forever.

Second, I wrote to my friends.

    I have reached the limit of endurance and have decided that there is but one way out and will take it.  By the time you get this, I shall be hanging from the RR bridge with a broken neck.  I wish that there had been another way but minors are helpless in fighting adults.  Maybe the law will be changed someday.
    Please try to look out for Milton, for the one thing I regret is that I won't be around to do so.
    Thank you for being my friends.  Goodbye.

My cyber-friends got a shorter version.

Third, I wrote the most important letter.

Dear Milton,
    The one truly good thing from our parents' marriage is that we became brothers.  It is only because of you that I have endured until now.  I'm sorry that we will not grow up together but I wish you every success in whatever you try.  Your father will surely try to fulfill his dreams that he failed to achieve through you.  That will be fine if they are also your dreams but you must follow your own heart and your own stars.  It will be great if you are that football hero he never was but if it is tennis or debating or chess or the math team where you excel, then that is what's right for you.
    Most of all please know that I am doing this not because of you in anyway and you should never think otherwise.  I regret that I won't be here to help and protect you.
    With the most sincere love, your brother.

Fourth, I made a short video using his webcam telling all of this and put it on my blog.

Then, I printed everything, set up all the emails with video and burnt several CD's.  I left the stuff for Milt in the midst of his school books with duplicates with my friends.  I showered and dressed.  After sending the emails, I dropped the letter to my parents on the table and cycled to the RR bridge dropping the other letters into the mailbox on the way.

At the bridge I removed my diaper, peed for the last time, put on my new boxers and walked to the center of the span with the rope.  I realized that I did not care if a train came or not.  I carefully put the rope about my neck and tightened it just like the webpage had explained it must be done.  I wondered if Billy Budd had done that or had help when he was on the yardarm.  I wrapped the other end about a tie leaving the proper amount of slack so that my neck would snap.  Then, like Billy, I stepped off into the void.

Now I'm in this waiting room.  Well, that answered several questions that I had thought about.

"Ryan Jaques of Sol III.  Report!" sounded load and clear.  Initially, I thought I heard it but when it was repeated, I realized that it was only in my head.  I stood and headed for the flashing light.  The question that was upper most in my mind was «Is this my first time here?»  The answer would imply whether the fire-breathing evangelists or the peaceful Buddhists were right.  I hurried to find out.

I entered a hall and there was another flashing light.  More anxious than ever, I rushed to it and knocked on the door.  I heard some gibberish and then a clear "Enter" resounded in my head.  As I opened the door, the room was still metamorphosing into a familiar sort of office with a man behind the desk.  I wondered what he looked like before.

"Not very different, Ryan.  I match the species of one being interviewed and you saw much of the range in the waiting room."  The man paused and then continued.  "Actually, it is your perception that is altered rather than my form.  Most individuals coming here are more comfortable that way."  There was another pause and things changed again.  I was sitting, cross legged Indian style on a lush patterned carpet facing the interviewer who was sitting with many legs tucked under his green, reptilian (to my eyes) body at the other end.  Now my heart was racing with excitement for I was actually face-to-face with an alien.  I sure hoped that this was not a dream.  He (it?) spoke.  "And then there are the rare few who are not xenophobic; you are one of them.  It is nice to deal with those as we both can be ourselves."

He told me his name but I could not even think it without causing him to laugh.  He gave me another one to use.  I watched as he scanned a file and said: "You're early; you were not due for another four-score of your years.  Would you care to explain why?"

"I was afraid."  He communicated that he was puzzled and I should explain more fully. "I was afraid that I would hurt Milton.  I was becoming more and more angry.  I couldn't let him spank me and there was not any way to stop him without hurting him.  Ideally, I would have attacked his father but that also would have hurt him.  The authorities were not of any help.  Centuries ago I could have runaway to sea or to the West but that doesn't work anymore.  My life was terrible and there was only one way out."  He did not say, er, think anything so I went on.  "It was the only control I had over my own existence.  Some preach that it is a sin but so is to suffer.  I see that it is not the absolute end."

He chuckled.  "You're most perceptive, Ryan."  He continued to look at the file he held.  I realized that I was wrong in assuming that it was like the paper files I was familiar with as I could see the page shimmer indicating that the content was changing.  After a while, he spoke. "I am allowed to offer you a choice – to return or to continue in a different universe."

"I would only return if my stepfather was gone and I was not responsible.  Otherwise I could not face Milton.  Is there anything that you can tell me about that different universe?"

"I can not tell you any more.  In fact your memory of this place will be gone regardless of which path you take."  He studied the file some more.  "I have received approval to return you at the moment your alarm clock went off this morning.  Everything will be the same except that you will not have the courage to do what you did but will decide to wait another day.  Milton will need you."

* * * * * * * * * *

Wednesday was not an ordinary day.  My alarm woke me and I did not have the courage to carry out my plan so I just took my sore ass to school.  Hopefully, I thought, I will be stronger tomorrow.  I was disappointed in myself as I sat through classes.

It was early afternoon when I was summoned to the principal's office.  The school shrink was also there.  They had news.  My stepfather was in the hospital in critical condition after being shot.  They did not have any details.  My mother was on her way back from the city.  We were to pick up Milt and go to the hospital.

Milt clung to me like a leech even after we were at the hospital.  Because the prognosis was grim, we were allowed to see him to say goodbye.  He had many wounds, had lost a lot of blood, was in a diaper and was barely coherent.  Milt was understandably distraught; Mother likewise.  I appeared to be macho and stoic but, inside, I was overjoyed.  He would hang on for two days.

The newspapers had the sordid story.  He had been seeing a married woman.  Her husband had caught them flagrante delicto and used his shotgun.  He wasn't killed immediately because it was loaded with birdshot rather than buckshot but he had gotten hit both fore and aft.  Once, on Thursday afternoon, I had the joy of changing his diaper.  The assigned orderly was late, the nurses swamped so I did it because I knew he would hate it.  I even taunted him about needing a diaper like a baby.

The happy moment came on Friday afternoon when I knew that he would never, ever, hit me again, for he died in a wet and soiled diaper.  I did my best to comfort Milton.  Everyone thought that I was so brave.

Over the next few months, many things changed.  Without her cruel second husband, Mother was slowly reverting to her former, nicer self that I remembered and loved from when I was twelve.  Milton and I became very close as he saw me as both a brother and as a father figure.  For all his faults, my stepfather had done one thing right; he had a lot of insurance so money was not a problem.  And, in some ways best of all, I've regained control and don't need diapers anymore.  The shrink had gotten me to a skilled urologist for a proper exam.  He found and most successfully treated a long term urinary tract infection which had been the cause of my incontinence.

* * * * * * * * * *

It has been a long day for me.  It was my ninety-fourth birthday and the party left me exhausted.  The little ones ran me ragged but it's a happy tired rather than one from creaky old joints and I'm glad to be in bed.  Everything will wait for tomorrow.

I'm sitting in a huge waiting room.  It is a very strange place for it is very quiet, although people are coming and going.  Everyone is naked and I am not aching for the first time in years.  I have a strange feeling of déjà vu yet how could I have forgotten something this strange?  My memory is playing tricks on me for I can recall stuff from when I was a baby.  How did I get here?  Slowly I recall my birthday party yesterday and going to bed but that's where it all ends.  Either I'm having a great dream or I have died.  Perhaps, I should say 'passed over' since I'm still self aware.  Then the nova exploded in my head.  I have been here before – eighty years ago.  That memory is coming back to me.  I'm called and rush to the door with the flashing light to learn my destiny.

When I open the door, he is sitting just as I left him on the carpet with his many legs tucked under his green, reptilian body.  "Welcome back, Ryan."

"Thank you, er …." and I stubble over his name just as I did eight decades ago.  He laughs.  "I'm glad that you gave me a second chance.  Milton really needed me.  Would he have been shot if I did not go back?"

"Yes.  That is why you were given the chance to return.  You were one of those cases where free will is in control but you would have made a different choice had you known that was going to happen."

"Do I have any choices for my next existence?" I ask with great wonder.

The End

© Copyright A.I.L., March 27, 2007

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