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The following story is fiction about CP of a youth.  The story contains scenes of a strapping in public.  If this subject is offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.  This story is sort of a continuation of The Open Window by H. H. Munro (Saki) but with the errant lass replaced by a youth.

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.

Returning to Reality Hurts


Mr. Framton Nuttel had been in the rural retreat for several weeks and was quite glad that he had come.  His nerve condition had gone away and he felt normal – simply good.  Just as important he had formed a couple of friendships.  If he was completely honest, he would give some credit to his sister who had given him several letters of introduction to some of the locals she knew from her visit a few years earlier.

However, it wasn't his sister friends who were his but the men that they introduced him to.  In the small community, the men frequented the Prancing Pony Pub which he found much to his liking.  They served good solid grub, a great local brew and even provided good competition at darts.  He had decided that he was not in any hurry to return home with all the stress of the great city.

This evening, Mr. Nuttel was enjoying the fine brew with a couple of his friends, Jinkerson and Osburn, when another man entered the pub.  Jinkerson immediately invited him to join them and then introduced him as Mr. Sappleton.  He explained that he had come to the pub to collect his nephew who had gone to the city for the day.  "Victor should be on the next train." he added.  The train station was across the street from the pub.  There was something a bit familiar about the name but Nuttel could not place it.

It was naught a half hour later when a youth entered the pub and quickly joined his father.  As lad was introduced, it all came back to Nuttel.  That most horrid experience with the boy and the story of his uncle's demise.  "We've met." blurted out Nuttel and the lad turned red.

The men asked for an explanation and Victor stood saying: "I'll wait for you outside Uncle."  Instantly, the boy's wrist was grabbed by his uncle who said: "You'll stay here, boy, while we sort this out."© YLeeCoyote

Nuttel quickly explained.  "I've been here but two weeks and went to meet Mrs. Sappleton with my sister's letter of introduction.  While I was waiting for her, Victor told me a fantastical tail of his uncle's death while on the moor and his aunt's nonacceptance.  Obviously, I see now that was a fabrication, but when Sappleton and his companions appeared I ran having believed the boy's story."

All eyes were on the lad.  After a bit he muttered a "Sorry." and "It was just a joke."

"I should hope you're are sorry." said Sappleton.  "But, your feeble excuse is not sufficient for LYING especially to a guest in my house.  Go get in position over the corner table and have your belt ready."

It was hard to tell it that the lad turned pale while he was blushing so hard.  He gave a quick try: "Can't we wait until we get home, please, Uncle?"

"Fear not for we'll have a discussion at home about your lying to your Aunt and me.  Now, go get into position."  As he well knew the penalty for disobedience he quickly went to the corner table, placed his belt on it, dropped his trousers and pants and got into required and embarrassing position.  It did not take long for every eye in the pub to be watching his neither cheeks blushing.

After letting the lad suffer waiting a bit Sappleton got up and went to the lad.  He picked up the belt and folded it double.  He found the proper spot and proceed to give the lad six hard cuts which gave new meaning to red checks.  Every man in the pub watched intently to see how each of the red strips would form on the bare canvas.  Then he ordered: "Into the corner, boy, with your hands on your head."

"Yes, Sir." sobbed the lad.

As Sappleton returned to his table, the men raised their glasses in approval.  After a while everyone disbursed.  Nuttel realized that he felt better about life.

The End

© Copyright A.I.L. April 4, 2019

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Last updated:  September 15, 2023