Each summer there is a Short Story Contest in the newsgroup soc.sexuality.spanking. It is only a contest in the general sense since the only strict rules are a limit of 500 words and that the stories are related to spanking. Usuually there are categories but with such brief stories it is not very significant.
All my stories are fiction and are spanking related. If such subject is offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.
These works are copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.
- Love of Chair – The Missing Episode (M/b, spank) Missing Scene
- One of Us (F/b, spank) Mini-saga
- Late for Class (M/M, spank) School
- Undercover Investigation (M/t, spank) Edge
- Gaining a New POV on Spanking (T/t, spank) Child
- Collection Day (M/t, spank) Child
- Another Collection Day (t/F, spank) Child
- A Good Start (MM/MM, spank) Age Play
- Payday Payoff (t/t, spank) Child
- Driver Education (F+/M, spank) Adult
- Disobedience Aftermath (b/F, spank) Missing Scene
A mini-saga is fifty words (plus/minus two).
22: A spoof of the PBS program "The Electric Company" soap opera.
"The Electric Company" was a PBS (Public Broadcasting Service) program which the 'graduates' of "Sesame Street" advanced to. Back in the early 1970, they closed with a segment called Love of Chair which was a spoof of the soap opera Love of Life. The voice over narration was done in the most solemn tones about a chair and a boy in a small room. The tag line was always the same and is used here.
Love of Chair – The Missing Episode
The chair is in the middle of the room.
"Come here, boy." says the man.
The man opens the boy's belt.
"Please, father, I'll be good." promises the boy.
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
The boy starts to cry.
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
The boy is crying very hard.
The boy is sobbing.
Will the boy be naughty again?
And what about Naomi?
© Copyright A.I.L. September 19, 2005
One of Us
The train was in the terminal.
On the platform I saw the lad; four at the most, being grabbed by his mother. She pulled and held him close, leaned over and gave him several spanks on his bottom.
He laughed.© YLeeCoyote
Then they waited calmly on the platform for his dad and boarded.
The events in this story are true. On a recent Sunday morning in the Hoboken terminal I was waiting on the 9:21 to depart and witnessed the described event. Unfortunately, I did not see what happened before to cause the interesting event. BTW, this was where the 'get the train to Washington' for Three Days of the Condor was filmed amidst a lot of steam.
© Copyright A.I.L. September 20, 2005
Late for Class
Nicolas Mahedy was late for class and he knew it. He knew that his excuses and reasons were quite irrelevant and he was trouble. It did help any when the bus had to wait a full 98 seconds for the light that it should have made. He bounded off the bus and dashed across the campus. Why, oh why did the class have to be in the furthest building?
The late bell sounded even before he entered the building. And the elevator was out of order. Well, at least the stairs were empty now. He was panting as he entered room A1101. The other students were in their seats listening to the professor. Zero chance that his tardiness would not be noticed.© YLeeCoyote
"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Mahedy." was what he expected the professor to say but instead it was: "How nice of you to volunteer, Mr. Mahedy. Just step over here, please."
Mahedy stood before the professor who immediately continued with the lecture. "Last time, class, we had gotten through the scolding lecture so that the miscreant doesn't have any doubt as to why he (or she) is being punished. What would be an appropriate reason today?"
All hands were raised and the professor choice one. "Tardiness." was the student's crisp response."
"Very good. Now we slowly open the belt and top button." The professor was demonstrating. "This should be done slowly so that miscreant's discomfort level is increased." Mahedy face's was getting redder as he anticipated what was about to happen. "Then the zipper is lowered so that the trousers can be lowered." Mahedy's superbaggy pants fell of their own accord and the class laughed. "There is one advantage of this ridiculous fashion. The next step is obvious – lower the underpants. When the naughty boy loses his pants, he will well know that he is just a little kid and not the macho youth he thought. Sometimes, he will blush when exposed especially if his pears are observing."
A student interjected: "Like Nicolas here." Snickers were barely suppressed.
"Yes, class. It also encourages the boy to get into position overlap in order to minimize such exposure." Mahedy was almost anxious as the professor pulled him over his lap. "When the miscreant is cooperative, then just placing one hand on the waist is sufficient like this. Otherwise hold a wrist so that you can exert pressure as in a hammerlock."
Mahedy was most nervous as the professor was patting his butt. "Authorities disagree on whether the hand should be flat like this…" SPANK. "…or cupped like this." SPANK. "But that is, of course, only for small targets. In this case to protect one's hand, an implement is required.
It was then that Mahedy realized that the other students were examining a very wide hairbrush. The professor reached out and took it. "This is much more effective…" WHACK!! Mahedy yelped in pain. "… as you can see."
The demonstration continued for some time.
Mahedy was never late for spanking class again.
© Copyright A.I.L. September 22, 2005
There had been unsubstantiated reports. I was here to investigate and to bare witness should those anecdotes be proven true. Along with a hundred others, I reported on the first day of school. I was just another new freshman. I did not feel good about this assignment; it was a dirty sort of job but I was assigned and my oath required that I do it and to the best of my ability. Sometimes the way to a better world is through not so nice methods.
Things were going well for within two weeks I located the school toughs; the guys who constantly caused trouble. The ones most likely to know of the evil that was being committed but who obviously could never be called to testify. I made friends and enemies. I was generous and could be counted on to obtain beer. My reputation grew quickly; all knew that I was a nasty character.
I quickly moved from one detention a week to three. I had many visits to the VP. We did not like each other at all. He had a reputation for using the paddle. A big, nasty paddle like a fraternity paddle on steroids. The toughs did not appreciate a mere freshie moving in like I owned 'their' place; we had fights.© YLeeCoyote
I was there just two months when the VP used IT on me. He gave me a choice – drop my jeans and briefs and bend over or be helped by the gorilla-like janitor to do it. The second option came with a bonus of 10 percent. I took the first option. I dropped them and assumed the position. I got five hard ones. I was red for days. Freshmen usually get only three the first time but he was in a generous mood. I called him some creative names and disparaged his ancestors. He laughed. The guys admired my butt in the showers; awesome was the word they used.
It was a week later that I went for it. In the morning I told off sweet old Ms. Krinke and walked out of her class. Then I slipped into the girls' locker room. That was fun. When they spotted me, they freaked.
The VP was smiling when the gorilla dragged me into the office. "You went too far and are going to be a very sorry boy." I tried to escape but soon they had me stripped and in position. The VP stepped into position and attacked my vulnerable butt with a vengeance. I screamed on the third and I got twelve cuts. He put his all into it.
They were both surprised when I pulled out the cuffs and snapped them on as I arrested them on a section 826f charge: assault with excessive number and force. I had the proof for the court.
If I had been a human I would have had a busted pelvis but I'm an android. For this assignment I was enhanced with EDGE (electronic data gathering equipment) in my butt.
In these closing days of the contest I realized that I had not done an EDGE story. I find them hard to do because I like to have some fun and edgy is not usually fun. I checked to see what acronym might fit in hope of doing a twist on that. Well, I did that but the story is actually edge for it is about excessive punishment.
© Copyright A.I.L. September 22, 2005
Gaining a New POV on Spanking
It was a blazing hot day even at the lake where my family and my cousin's were spending the week. My cousin Jeff (my age) and Timmy and Andy, our kid brothers, were going to go swimming. Jeff insisted on putting on all his gear so that he looked like an alien and his flippers slapped every step on the stair.
Our dads were chatting and as we went down the porch step, Uncle Peter called out: "JEFFERY, WHAT HAVE WE SAID ABOUT WEARING FLIPPERS OUT OF THE WATER?"© YLeeCoyote
Uncle Peter was obviously mad and as Jeff searched for a nonexistent answer I gave my butt an involuntary rub remembering all too well what it had gotten just a week ago for the same offence. I was sure that Jeff was now sorry that he hadn't taken my advice.
"It's too hot for me to give you the spanking you deserve, boy. Stay in your room." We all groaned at that. Partly in sympathy and partly since without Jeff we wouldn't have as much fun.
Then my dad spoke. "Rick, you remember what you got for doing this last week?"
"Vividly, father, most vividly."
And then to uncle "Perhaps Rick can share his experience with Jeff in a way that would make a lasting impression? They are both growing up." Dad liked to talk in a roundabout fashion at times. He already had me spank Timmy under his direct supervision. My heart sped up at that which is surely why my trunks got tighter.
Uncle Peter gave me one of his penetrating looks and I managed to return it. With a faint smile, "Richard, do a very good job. Jeffery, do I need to tell you what you are to do?"
My mind was racing as we headed for the lake. Once we got there I gave Jeff a lecture on safety and all that. He took it very well for he knew he deserved it. Then I got to the fun part. "Lose your trunks and assume the position." It was the moment of truth. But Jeff was responsible and got into position even handing me a flipper for he knew that was what my dad had used on me. I got into position also. It took a couple of tries to find the right way to hold the flipper as a paddle. I gave him a few easy strokes to get both of us warmed up and then hard. Jeff as well as our dads would expect no less. He was entitled to at least what I had gotten from dad.
It was less fun than I expected. I began to understand the this hurt me more than you stuff but I had a responsibility and persisted. When I finished Jeff was truly well and throughly spanked with a bright red butt. He was even on the verge of tears as he dashed into the water to cool off forgetting his trunks.
The rest of the day was fun.
© Copyright A.I.L. September 26, 2005
Carl was feeling pretty good. He was ninety percent through his route and everyone had paid in full even the three who had been behind – and with nice tips. It sure felt good to have that thick pack of bills in his case. If things continued this way, he'll could have enough to get that game cartridge he wanted so much. He turned into the last driveway and carefully parked his bike where Meriwhether insisted that he park it. Grouchy, old Meriwhether insisted that everything be done right and he always knew what the right way was.
Carefully taking the extra time to stay on the path and off the grass he climbed to the porch and rang the bell. The expected growl was the response. "Paperboy, SIR. It is collection day, SIR." He was feeling good. He had taken extra care to be sure that Meriwhether's paper was always on his porch and never on the lawn or, horrors, in the bushes.
He entered, collection book, pen and change in his hand and ready as Meriwhether expected . The old man was looking at his book. "Boy, you did very well the last two weeks and this week also…" Carl smiled as he remembered the previous praise for perfect porch delivery. "… except for Thursday. I don't pay for my paper being in the bushes, boy."© YLeeCoyote
"No, Sir. You do not. I'm very sorry. I apologize, Sir. I'll be more careful in the future, Sir." Carl said quickly. He was sure that he had not missed like that but Meriwhether was not to be argued with.
"I surely expect that you will, boy." He consulted his records again. "The penalty is six, boy. Get into position."
Carl put his stuff on the table and pulled his thick leather belt out of his jeans. He handed the belt to the geezer, dropped his jeans and briefs and leaned over the chair with his naked butt sticking up.
Meriwhether took his position. He folded the belt and raised it. He brought it down hard on the target with a loud WHACK. Carl gritted his teeth to keep from screaming. Meriwhether did not approve of screaming. Many times he heard him say: "Take it like a man, boy."
The other five cuts were just as hard. Carl's butt was bright red when he pulled up his pants.
He checked his book. "It's $8.25 for the week, Sir." Carl said preparing to sign the receipt.
Meriwhether handed him a tenner. "Keep the change, boy."
"Thank you, Sir." He said as he left carefully keeping the door from slamming and staying on the path back to his bike. He rode his bike standing all the way home.
Carl was bothered by this all evening – through dinner and homework. It was only after he was in bed that he figured it out. Thursday was the day that he went to the dentist and his friend Keith had done the route. He would have to have a long three way discussion with Keith.
© Copyright A.I.L. September 27, 2005
A folowup is next and see the sequel Payday Payoff.
Another Collection Day
Just one more house to return to on this collection day. Mrs. Shani Justel was a problem. She had not been home earlier and she would never leave the payment on the porch like many others did. At twenty-five she appeared to have trouble managing her life, especially the weekly newspaper payment. Every time Carl was in her presence his heart sped up and his pants got tight for her luscious curves and potent pheromones did what nature planned.
He noted the dirty dishes on the counter and the shopping bags from the mall on the table when he walked in. She floated into the room and smiled at him. They exchanged greetings. "You owe $24.75 for three weeks, ma'am." Carl tried to be businesslike; he was only fifteen – she was an older, married woman with a husband away at war.© YLeeCoyote
She searched her purse. "Oh, dear. I don't have it, Carl." She sounded sincere but she had it for shopping. "Next week for sure." she added, "I promise."
This was just like Carl's sister pleading with their dad. "I'm afraid that I'll have let the office handle this. You've already had an extra week."
She looked crestfallen. "It's so hard being alone. Dad and Jason use to guide me but they're not here." She seemed even more like his kid sister now. "I miss their hard hands."
Then it registered for Carl; she had not said hard "cock" but "hand" when referring to her husband. They must have spanked her just like his father did to him. He made a decision.
Carl pulled a chair into the middle of the room and sat down. "I'll be back on Friday to collect." He paused as she started to thank him. "But, now young lady, you have earned a spanking for mismanaging your money and even your house." She looked shocked. "COME HERE, Shani."
Silently she obeyed and he pulled the complaint woman over his lap. He lifted her skirt up to reveal her pink, lace-trimmed panties. His father's words echoed in his head as he slipped his hand under the waistband and yanked them down to expose her delectable bottom. He got a firm grip on her waist. After he gave her a rub and a couple a gentle pats, he gave her the long hard spanking that she needed and so truly deserved.
He enjoyed how she turned pink and then red and then crimson as he spanked. How her vocalizations changed from no's to promises to pleading and finally to crying.
He rode home feeling that he saw the sun set as a man with a sticky mess in his pants.
* * * * * * * * * *
Things were very different when he returned. The kitchen was immaculate. On the table were bill payment envelopes ready to post. She handed him the plain envelope "Newspaper" containing two twenties. "This covers through this week and a tip." she said. "You helped me a lot."
Carl hoped that she would need another spanking soon.
© Copyright A.I.L. September 28, 2005
The 'fathers' (ties and slacks) were in the front seat; the 'boys' (T-shirts and shorts), in the back as decreed by the bet. It was a long drive from the city to the cabin in the woods. It took more than an hour in the summer traffic to get over the big bridge and then there were two hours of highway before the turnoff.
It only took a half hour before the boys were at each other and for the fathers to yell – and threaten. Not that there was anything to fight about but boys will be boys and they were real boys. Besides vacations, especially an all male one was not the time to be genteel. The fathers were most glad for the seatbelts which keep the boys apart.
It was only twenty minutes after they left the viewpoint and its public facilities that Rickey started to whine that he had to go pee.© YLeeCoyote
"Why didn't you go at the rest stop?"
"I did not have to go then. I HAVE TO GO NOW!"
"You're too big to go by the road so use the bottle. And be careful and don't get the seat wet."
"And Jammie, you sit still and let him go or you'll get it with the STRAP."
Ricky complained but eventually did it with Jammie giggling.
They began the chorus of "Are we there yet." as they approached the halfway point. They pulled into the next rest stop to drain, stretch and eat. After packing up, the boys got the expected lecture about behaving properly. They smirked at each other through it all. The two men were ready and grabbed them both. The picnic table-bench was just perfect – forming a sturdy, firm and steady support. They sat on opposite sides and each took hold of their boy. A tug here; a tug there and shorts and briefs were soon about ankles rather than waists and laps covered with surprised bare-bottomed boys.
The loud spanks and howls attracted an audience. The spanks were hard for the dads were angry. Each boy would regret kicking for shorts and brief soon took flight. Very soon two naughty boys had bright red bottoms and teary faces. Most important they had an attitude adjustment.
They all heard the sweet little six-year-old girl ask: "Why are those boys getting spanked, daddy?" Two boys blushed all over especial when Ricky was ordered to tell her. Another kid wondered if a red behind was actually hot. Jammie provided an example to be touched. When after many promises they were allowed up, they amused the crowd trying to get their briefs and pants which they had kicked off as several kids were really enjoying the impromptu game of keep-away.
Two very subdued boys returned to the car and sat very quietly for the rest of the trip. They wished they hadn't made and lost the bet. Each wondered if he could survive being a ten-year-old boy for a week to their twenty-five-year-old friends.
© Copyright A.I.L. September 30, 2005
30: Paying your buddy in full is what a man does. This a complete story in its own right but it is also a sequel to a previous story, Collection Day
It was payday for the newsboys and Carl was happily riding home with the pay envelope securely in pocket of his jeans. It was what he worked hard for in order to get those all-important extras required by young men to be admired by his peers. Along with his savings, he would go shopping on the weekend but now there was a related matter to attend to.
Keith was home and expected him for the same reasons. This last month he had filled in for him four times and was entitled to get his share of both pay and tips. There was an extra bit this time Carl was sure Keith was not expecting.
The arrangement was a strict pro rata deal based on days worked so the cash settlement was easy. When Keith reached for his money, Carl stopped him because there was the special matter Mr. Meriwhether. The grouchy, old man was very particular and let it readily be known in no uncertain terms as Carl had explained to Keith several times. A few days after Keith had done the route, it was collection day and Carl collected more than he would have liked. It seems that the paper had been in the bushes that day – the day that Keith had done the route – and that had some special pay. As he was explaining, Carl was removing his belt. I got six cuts for your fuckup, Keith. It's only fair that you get the same.
Keith was trapped. He had made a deal but never expected to share in a strapping. He could refuse but… That was not the way of an honorable man.
He looked at the pile of cash on his desk and the belt in Carl's hands before dropping his jeans and shorts and bending over. He heard Carl snap the folded belt and braced himself for the first cut.
It stung but he knew he must bear it like a man. Carl realized that his own ass must have developed a red stripe just like the one on Keith's ass.
Carl repeated the cut twice."Halfway." he announced. He realized that it was better to give than receive. His attitude improved as he began to deliver the second half. He swung a little bit hard and a little bit faster.
WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!!
"That's all, Keith. You may pull up your pants."
Keith stood and turned. His hard shaft was pointing direct at the tent in Carl's jeans. "It would be more fun if you dropped yours instead." he quipped. Carl hesitated only for a moment as he realized that his buddy was quite right.
After some very erotic wrestling, Keith managed to get Carl over his lap. "OK, buddy, part of those six cuts were due to your past fuckups so I'm giving you those back." He then proceeded to spank his buddy until his butt was nice and red. After which they fucked some more and planed to do it again.
© Copyright A.I.L. September 30, 2005
Krystal was tired of trying to get Mr. Know-it-all to ask for directions. It had been this way for years on every car trip. He would study the maps – he always managed to get several – the night before but inevitably he would get lost and their trips were less fun.
For years she had begged, pleaded, implored, entreated, beseeched him to ask for directions to no avail. On better days the diversions took only an hour or two. When she got really lucky she could get some help when they stopped at the rest stops in a way that he did not feel was committing that sin of sins – asking for directions.
It was her cross to bear.© YLeeCoyote
This trip was not any different. It was Day Three and they were still on the road although they should have been there on the second day. Things were not looking good. They had not seen another car for an hour. That carried no weight with him at all when she tried to get him to return back to the main highway. The main highway with gas station attendants who knew the area.
She prayed that they would get somewhere – anywhere – where there were other people before they ran out of gas.
"THERE IT IS!!" he yelled triumphantly, "See the sign." When they got to the sign there was little to read for vandals had used it for target practice leaving only the word "Camp". In five minutes they entered the camp. It was not "Camp Wehavphun" but "Camp Teachumboy". She jumped out of the car and ran into the office while he studied his maps again.
The manageress was most helpful. She quickly determined that Mr. Know-it-all had confused several Indian names and that they were more than four hours away from their planned destination. Krystal, after learning about the camp, decided to register. Fortunately, she was able to cancel the other.
They cleaned up and went to the pre-dinner event. Mr. Know-it-all was surprised that several men were accused of 'crimes' by their wives. Four out of five were convicted and were paddled bare-assed in front of the assembled crowed. It seemed strange how they accepted the punishment and even the loss of their pants until dawn. He was even more surprised when he was called to the dock. When he resisted he was dragged to the place.
He was quickly found guilty of numerous crimes of stubbornness, wasting time with massive detours and a total failure at map reading. He was sentenced to 68 paddle cuts over the next week and three two-hour long re-education classes. He was dumbfounded.
He was so dumbfounded that he was dragged over to the spanking bench for the first paddle session without a fight. Boy, did he howl for those first 12 cuts. A few were from Krystal but most from strong and experienced man-butt paddlers intent on teaching her the most effective techniques.
Mr. Know-it-all was a changed man by the end of the week.
© Copyright A.I.L. September 30, 2005
32: Disobedience gets it reward. I hope that those of you who know what wonderful children's poem I have the chutzpah to supply a non-poetical missing scene for please forgive me as I hope A.A.M. will to whom I apologize.
James James Morrison Morrison Weatherby George Dupree
She had gotten quite messy at the end of town
James James Morrison Morrison Weatherby George Dupree.
He gave her a long and stern lecture
Then he gave her a long and hard spanking
James James Morrison Morrison Weatherby George Dupree
© Copyright A.I.L. September 30, 2005
The End of Collection
© Copyright A.I.L., Summer, 2005
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Last updated: September 15, 2023