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The following story is fiction about spanking a boy.  The story contains scenes of spanking, strapping and canning.  If these subjects are offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.  This story was inspired by the drawing by Arkham-Insanity at (no charge registration required for full size image).   Click to open the image off-site (NSFW).

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.

A Locked Room, a Curious Boy and a Hot Red Tail


I had been looking forward to the weekend all week.  My parents were going to visit some relatives while I would get to stay with a friend and have FUN ALL DAY LONG AND ALL NIGHT TOO.  These relatives were even older than my folks and their kids were all grown up also.  I would be bored stiff if I went as had happened in the past.

Then disaster struck.  Our phone rang early and my friend's mom talked to mine.  He was sick.  I could not visit much less stay over.  There was not any time to even try to make other arrangements.  So an hour later I was unhappy in the back seat on the way to these relatives.

It was even worse than usual for the one kid that I had played with on previous visits even thought he was two years younger had moved away.  All that was left for me was to explore and get into trouble.  I definitely wanted to avoid the later.  These relatives were very old fashioned and in the past had strongly advised my parents to spank me for each and every little infraction.  I rarely left their house without my tail being at least pink if not flaming red.

I went exploring outside for a while but then came the rain.  It was far too heavy to stay out even though I did not care about getting wet.  I read for a while but soon had my fill of that.  If it was now, I would have been on the web but that was still years away.  It was time to go exploring in the big old house.

One always reads about how kids explore attics full of junk and treasures.  This attic was baron.  Totally empty.  They had done some renovations and had to clear the space to install insulation.  They never returned the junk.  There was one room I did want to get into for it had always been locked in the past except for one time when I got a quick look before being dragged out and watching the door being locked.  "You stay out of there, boy." was the order followed by a warning: "Next  time you SHALL BE SPANKED!"© YLeeCoyote

I left my room very quietly and heard the adults talking downstairs.  I headed for the mystery room and tried the door.  It was UNLOCKED.  How wonderful and I went in.  There wasn't much furniture at all – just a heavy wooden table and two matching chairs.  It was simple stuff unlike the rest of the household furniture.  I was disappointed and was about to leave when I saw the closet door and decided to have a look.  It was empty.  Completely bare except that there were seven items hanging on the inside of the door.  There was a hairbrush, some leather thing, a paddle, a wooden spoon (like mom uses in the kitchen), a belt, a cane, and the strangest thing of all with a wooden handle and a batch of thin leather things attached.

I stared at the objects trying to figure out what they were for as a collection.  I was not getting anywhere when suddenly I felt hands on my shoulders.  They gripped me tightly.  I looked up and saw my cousin Linda who is old – like almost thirty.  "Let me go." I demanded.

She laughed.  "Not so quickly, boy.  There is the matter of you being where you're not suppose to be.  That is quite naughty."  She seemed very happy about having caught me.  "You're wondering about all those things, Tommy?  My brothers know all about them.  They each could tell you how much each hurts when used on a naughty boy's bottom.  Too bad they are not here today."

She went on telling me the names of all the things and promising to show me how they worked.  "That's very generous, Linda." I said.

"It will be my pleasure, naughty one.  Now kick off your sneakers and take off your pants."  I refused and suddenly found myself writhing on the floor because she squeezed something in my shoulder.  Fearfully, I proceeded to do as she said.  I also realized that she was going to fulfill her promise to show me how those things work by using me as a target.  She only laughed agin when I told her she need not do that.

Now, again I was standing in front of the seven spanking things but this time I was about to get spanked.  "Let's do them in order." said Linda.  The first one is the hairbrush.

She took it off the hook and showed it to me.  "It's like a little paddle made of heavy hard wood.  Feel its weight."  It was indeed heavy unlike the regular narrow brush I owned and gave it back to her.  I was surprised when she picked me up with one hand like I was a baby and held me tight against her hip.

Then without further warning, she began to whack my bare bottom with that hairbrush.  I howled in pain.  "Enough.  Please stop." I howled but she just gave me more painful whacks and stopped.

I started rubbing to try to reduce the pain but it did not help.  She returned the horrid hairbrush to its hook.  "Now that your naughty bottom is properly RED, we can demonstrate Mother's favorite – the wooden cooking spoon."

"That's not necessary." I said, but it did not do any good for she picked me up again and started to beat me with the spoon.  Again, I was howling.

"Feel how this works.  It not as heavy as the hairbrush but I swing it faster and the contact area is smaller so it still hurts a lot."

"Right.  I understand.  You can stop now."  I was not surprised that she did not stop.  She continued to whack me with that spoon until I was crying.  Then she led me back to my room and allowed me to lie on my bed with my flaming hot tail in the air.

"We'll try a couple of others tomorrow so you will learn all about them."  She left and I just lay there hurting.

When I went to eat later, she smirked at me and the others did not comment about how much I fidgeted throughout dinner.  I was sure that she had gleefully told everyone.

* * * * * * * * * *

It was after breakfast that Linda came to my room.  "It is time to continue your education, Tommy.  Please strip."

"I haven't done anything else wrong." I protested.

"No one said you did.  This is just a continuation of yesterday's punishment.  And you haven't anything to hide.  I saw my brothers naked a lot and you yesterday so no fussing or you get extras."  I was trapped.  I remembered how she made me collapse with just one squeeze yesterday.  I did as she said.

It was just seconds later that I was facing that terrifying display on the closet door.  I wondered which would hurt the least.  When I did not chose immediately, she did.  The tawse is next in line and she took it off the door.  As I held it, she explained that it was a lot like the belt but more effective because of the split at the business end.

She said that since this was for bigger boys, and that I should lay on the table rather than being held.  Then she was next to me and the tawse flying.  I howled to wake the dead and jumped up.

"No, no, no.  You must stay in place.  Now hold on tightly and we will continue."  She (mercifully) stopped after four painful cuts.  I can give a user testimonial that the tawse is a most effective implement to chastise boys.

When I had recovered some, she had me in front of the display again.  "Well, the belt is next inline but it is so like the tawse so I think the cane is better selection."  She demonstrated how it could be bent and why it was dreaded.

"I'll take your word for it, Linda." I said hopefully.  It did not do me any good at all for I was back over the table as she explained how this was used in British schools and of the tradition of six-of-the-best. "Now since you just felt the tawse, I'll only give you three."

True kindness would have been none.  I can attest that it truly hurts.  And I still had marks after a week.  I don't want to return there and learn about the other things.

* * * * * * * * * *

A couple of weeks later, Dad said I was growing up and gave me a special gift.  It was a taswe which he said would help me to remember to be a good boy.  I was simply thrilled – NOT!

The End

© Copyright A.I.L. August 7, 2018

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Last updated:  September 15, 2023