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. Usually 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.
The author would appreciate your comments – pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions. Please take a moment to email.
My last twelve SSC-2006 stories are on this page and the first twelve are at SSC 2006 – Part 1/2
- Marriage Contract Clause Picture
- Not a Good Day Historical
- On the Job Training Picture
- A New Protocol Child
- Gong Show Adult
- Spanking Is Fun Child
- Blind Date Disaster Child
- A Mugger's Tail/Tale Adult
- Rampage in the Shop Historical
- A Fair Catch Child
- The Temple Guardians Sci-fi/fantasy
- Window Box Boy Child
Several of these stories have been inspired by pictures although the images are not truly significant except at an initial stimulus. They maybe found at: asssville.asslr.org/2006/pics/thumb.htm
13: The picture is of a letter signed "Sorry!" with a wedding band (https://asssville.asslr.org/2006/pics/pic6.htm). What is this letter about? Here's one answer.
Marriage Contract Clause
I was devastated when I got the letter. It was the termination of our relationship. The ring I had given as a pledge of my love, glittered in the golden sunlight. Her final word, written in ebony India ink, was as black as a deep cave. I cried for a while and obsessively reread the letter over and over.
I never expected this reaction. Wendi and I got along ever so well. We had even talked about marriage. And, now, life seemed over.
It was not like either of us did anything improper as even inconsequentially just flirting with a stranger in passing. Wendi had asked me to do something; actually to promise to do something should the need arise. I reacted instantly but negatively. It was a hot button topic with me both as a personal issue and as a general social issue.© YLeeCoyote
I saw it as abusive and disrespectful. My own experiences had been that way and long ago I signed on to the progressive school of social understanding. Yet, Wendi asked for it. It was the next day that I got the letter; the letter that destroyed the universe. Fortunately, in it she explained how different her experiences and understandings were. She had an entirely different value system!.
When my eyes stopped trying to replicated an ocean in my room, I did some research. I was surprised at what I found. There was lots of data supporting both points of view. Neither of us were freaks. My understanding grew. Along with that, so did my curiosity. I was most surprised that I was having erotic thoughts about this.
I wrote Wendi a letter in the morning and enclosed the ring. I explained that I truly regretted my hasty response, had done some research and a lot of thinking. I understood a lot more now. Of course, I asked her to reconsider.
I even said I would come over and help her decide with a good, hard, bare bottom spanking like her father gave both her and her mother.
Not a Good Day
Stefan was worried. It was Saturday which was the best day. There had been two hangings in the town square at noon. It was the big market day.
But it had been a bad day for him.
Even with all that activity all he had managed was to find a couple of coppers and then he had to dig them out from under the donkey turds that fell on them. Yes, he got two purses but they were both light. The better of them had only one small silver coin.
At least the knife was sharp and he hadn't been caught.© YLeeCoyote
The butcher and his boy had been most diligent safeguarding the meat so he had not been able to snatch even a scrawny chicken.
It was his worst day in months.
He had not even seen a watch to try for.
He had to be extra careful and wary because the local Lord was in town with his guards and the Sheriff had all his men out. Many eyes were watching.
Maybe if he had gotten a ring or hairpin, it would have made up for the lack of other swag.
He knew what his father would say. He knew what his father would do was worse.
The market was closing and he hung about in hopes of getting some third rate produce a serf didn't want to lug back home. It was just more wasted time.
The Lord and his entourage had long left. The Sheriff's men seemed to be watching him more closely.
It was best to go before they nicked him.
* * * * * * * * * *
It was a league back to their wagon. The sun had set by the time he got there. He gave his father all the pitiful swag, apologized for his failures and begged forgiveness. His father was not understanding at all. "Two hangings and Saturday market should yield a lot more, boy. If you think that you will get even gruel for dinner, you are sadly mistaken." he growled angrily.
Stefan was not worried about missing dinner. He was used to that. He had expected that which is why he scoffed several apples that he had managed to pick along the road. It was what was next that he feared.
He went quietly as his father took him inside the wagon. He quickly lost his britches and leaned over the bed. His father removed his belt. Stefan braced himself for the assault. He did not have to wait more than a few seconds. The heavy leather belt was raised and brought down hard on his exposed butt at least a dozen times. Stefan lost count. He wanted to scream in pain but long ago he had learnt that earned painful extras. He bit his tongue to keep from screaming. At last it was over.
He was thankful for the thin blanket he could wrap himself in as he tried to sleep in his corner of the wagon.
It had not been a good day at all. Maybe tomorrow would be better.
15: An image of an intense redhead (https://asssville.asslr.org/2006/pics/pic8.htm). What is she about?
On the Job Training
Molly Clyburn was a very intense woman. She stared intently at the activity taking place in front of her. It was her first day and Mr. Lakeman was demonstrating how to deal with his ten-year-old son when he misbehaved.
It was clear that the lad was not happy being dealt with especially in front of Molly. The father had confronted his son with the report of his misdeed and given him a chance to respond. He had admitted his guilt. Then he acceded that a spanking was appropriate although he certainly did not look happy about it. Mr. Lakeman was explaining every step as he went along. Willy obviously knew them also. Fairness was most important and the boy must have the opportunity to contest the accusation and moderate the punishment.
Without another word, the man proceeded to undress his son. Shirt and undershirt, shoes and socks and jeans were quickly removed. Only when the man reached for the boy's briefs, did he say anything. "Please, father, please don't remove my briefs in front of Ms. Clyburn." She marveled at how controlled the boy and his father both were.
The man actually paused. "So, you don't want me to remove your briefs?" The boy swiftly agreed. He quickly realized he had made a tactical mistake for his father coolly said: "Ms. Clyburn, please do the honors." The boy blushed all over but he neither spoke nor moved. It was clear that he was expected to live up to some code and he would do so as best he could. Molly wondered about the penalties for failing to do so. It was an easy task to remove his briefs. The boy was mortified at being exposed but accepted his fate stoically.© YLeeCoyote
He quickly got over his father's lap without another word. The first spank caused a hand print to form on the boy's bottom. This quickly became a uniform red after a dozen spanks. "Please give him a couple of spanks, Ms. Clyburn." Molly gave the boy a spank. She could hear that the impact was much less.
"Was that a valid spank?" he asked his son.
She tried again much harder.
"You had better use the brush." She picked up the hairbrush from the dresser and gave the boy a WHACK.
The boy yowled.
The spanking was over.
The boy immediately went to the corner when he was lifted up.
* * * * * * * * * *
A week later the boy again misbehaved. Molly confronted him and he concurred that a spanking was the appropriate punishment. He stood still as she undressed him, pleading with his eyes when she reached for his briefs. He got into position. She held him tightly as she applied the hairbrush vigorously to his bottom which quickly turned bright red. Toward to end he was whimpering so she knew that she was being effective. The boy immediately went to the corner when the spanking was done.
But why, she wondered, did she dream of spanking Mr. Lakeman in the same way?
A New Protocol
It was past midnight and Sebastian Rey was pacing the floor. It was hours past his son's curfew and he was fuming. Then he heard the key in the lock and Santiago breezed in. "Are you OK, son?" he asked anxiously.
"Sure pop. I had a great time."
The man could not restrain his love for his son and he quickly embraced him in a bear hug. "I was so worried." he cried, "and so was your mother. She had to take several pills."
The boy knew what that meant so, still returning the hug, he said: "I'm sorry. I…."© YLeeCoyote
"Sorry does cut it, Santiago. You were most irresponsible. I'll have to punish you."
The youth thought a bit and said softy: "Yes, father." It was only when they disengaged that he added: "I deserve it."
The man sat on the couch and started to open his son's belt.
"I'm too old to be spanked like a little kid, father." the youth said stepping back.
"Should I ground you? Cut your allowance?"
Those were not things the youth wanted even mentioned. "You told me what Grandfather did when you were my age." There was not any need to finish the thought.
"It will hurt, son. A lot more than a spanking."
"Yes, father, I believe it is supposed to. And I'm not a little boy anymore – I'm fourteen (almost)." As his father watched, Santiago pulled his heavy leather belt out of his jeans and handed it to his father. Then he lowered his jeans and briefs and bent over the end of the couch just like his father had told him he had done years earlier at his father's directions. "I'm ready, father." he said bravely although the tremor in his voice betrayed him.
Mr. Ray sized up the situation. It really was not what he wanted to do, but not all parts of parenting are nice. He found the proper position. "Ready, son?"
"Yes, father." The youth gritted his teeth and grasped the cushion tightly. He knew that this would hurt.
He was neither wrong nor disappointed. It hurt a lot and it was all he could do not to yell like a little sissy. He so wanted to prove to his father that he was becoming a man. It was only that thought that kept him from screaming and bawling. After a half dozen cuts, his father said: "That's it son."
He stood up and gave his red hot butt a rub and then as he hugged his father said: "I'm really sorry. Thank you, father." and went off to bed.
* * * * * * * * * *
It was a very reserved Santiago that came down for breakfast in the morning. He kissed his mother (a rare act) and told her how very sorry he was for making her worry.
His father noted how carefully he sat down and that he did not fidget as he usually did.
17: Perhaps it was great to spend the summer with your cousin's family in a small town when you were little but for a high school senior – used to the activities of the big city – it is just not the same. This is set back in the 60's before the internet but after TV. A letter to a buddy back home tell how it was.
I'm sure that you are expecting still another letter telling you how awful it is having to spend the summer here in Podunk, a.k.a. Dullsville, with my uncle and family. Yes, my cousin is great fun but the local movie house is showing what we saw back in January. But this letter is going to be different; very different.
I'm sure that you can imagine how I felt when I was told that the big event for Saturday night was going to be an amateur night in the school auditorium. Yes, a gong show. You know how awful they are on TV so I expected even worse here.
I WAS WRONG!© YLeeCoyote
There, I said it. Well, most of it stank worse than a garbage truck in summer but one act was different; very different.
Well, I'll spare you the nauseating details and skip to the good part. The last group was called: The One Hand Clappers. When the MC invited a warm welcome, they dashed out onto the stage dressed in tight T's and short-shorts. All four had just graduated. The first chick had been the head cheerleader and the second was just drop dead gorgeous. The guys were winners also. The first had been the drummer from the school band and a swimmer and the other a football jock. Definitely the stuff of very wet dreams! <woof, woof>
Not only am I salivating but I am drooling. But it gets even better. Open your pants and get the lube, buddy.
The Anvil Chorus is announced. I sink in my seat. Opera I don't need to spoil the beauty in front of me. The chicks strip down to G-strings and Bikini tops and my jeans suddenly shirk. They have great figures. I stare at their pert tits until…
The guys sit down and the chicks get over their laps. Just like we did when our dads spanked us. I'm no longer slouching but am sitting up straight. [Pun intended!!] Let me assure you that they had asses to die for! And then they start to play. The hammers are the guys' hands and the anvils those gals' sweet, sweet asses. Those beautiful anvils quickly turn pink and the red and deep red as the piece progresses. If they had been playing the Bolero I surely would have cum in my jeans.
See, I told you to get the lube.
But there is more.
When it's over there is thunderous two-handed clapping. They are the obvious winners. They get to do an encore.
The guys strip to their jocks and get over the chicks' laps. The chicks play one of Sousa's marches on four hard cheeks. Lots of rhythm and I watch these two hunks get red butts.
Yes, a night to remember.
Your best bud,
Spanking Is Fun
Gareth and his best friend, Logan, were watching TV in the family room one Monday afternoon, when Gareth's mother came home. She acknowledged their grunts that passed for "hellos" as she flipped through the mail. Suddenly, she ripped open one envelope and yelled: "Gareth Garey, what is the meaning of this?"
The two boys got up and took a look. Gareth turned pale as he read the letter from his school asking about his absences.
"So you played hooky, young man!" said his mother not asking. She knew that if he had any explanation, he would have said so. "Your father will spank you when he gets home Friday." It had been several years since such spankings had been declared "men's business". She did not have to add that he was also grounded until then.
Both boys were most unhappy since they had tickets for the Wednesday night game. Tickets that they had saved up for a long time and had special dispensation for a school night.© YLeeCoyote
Logan thought carefully about all these details and then spoke. "Mrs. Garey, it will be very difficult for Gareth to have to wait all week for his spanking. It will distract him from his school work. I could spank him for you." Gareth and his mother were both surprised.
The mother recovered first. "An excellent idea, Logan. Gareth, get the hairbrush, NOW." While the fetching was being done, Logan got into position. "Boys, I shall watch to be sure a proper job is done." declared the angry mother.
Logan pulled his friend over his lap and got the first maternal objection. "Not on his jeans." Logan lowered his buddy's jeans and started again. Again, she interrupted: "On the bare, boys!" After lowering the briefs he started again. He was quickly instructed to hit harder overriding his thought of going easy on his friend. The hairbrush quickly turned Gareth's bottom red and then deep crimson red. Every time Logan tried to stop he was ordered to spank more. Eventually, Gareth started to cry and soon afterwards Mrs. Garey was satisfied.
The boys retreated to Gareth's room. There Logan easily got Gareth to relieve the great stress that had arisen from the spanking. "I'm sorry I had to do it so hard but at least we'll be able to go to the game together now."
It was only on the way home that Logan had a terrible thought: his parents might also get a letter from school. He had no doubt they had when his father bellowed at him as soon as he got home. A few minutes later he was over his father's lap, bare bottom up awaiting a long hard spanking.
He only had to wait a few seconds until he felt his father's large, hard hand slam down on his tender butt. A few minutes later he was crying with a dark red behind.
That night Logan had spanking on his mind – but not his own – but how much fun it had been to spank his buddy.
Blind Date Disaster
Just a few minutes after he arrived to pick her up, high school senior Nikita knew that she had made a mistake agreeing to date Logan. He had scared her ten-year-old kid brother, Marky, for just being friendly by threatening to spank him. He was a lousy driver – almost getting into two accidents on the way to the multiplex. To prove he was a BIG COLLEGE MAN he got tickets for a R-rated movie she did not want to see. Perhaps just as well since he was all hands requiring that she concentrate on fending them off. She had a 'headache' after the movie and insisted that he take her home immediately.
Things got worse there. He forced his way in and soon they were both on the couch. It was even harder to fend him off here. To make matters worse, he even managed to get his trousers open. She was yelling loudly but that only excited him more. "You think that your kid brother is going to help you?" he laughed. She regretted letting him know her folks were away. She was not able to answer since he was pressing his lips against hers.
"YES! SHE DOES THINK HER KID BROTHER IS GOING TO HELP HER." roared a deep male voice as the lights came on. "AND SHE'S ABSOLUTELY RIGHT!"
Logan was surprised when a strong hand grabbed him and yanked him to his feet. His trousers fell to his ankles.© YLeeCoyote
"Oh, Rick, I'm so glad you were home." Rick was her fifteen-year-old kid brother.
"This cretin needs to be taught a lesson." snarled Rick. "How disgusting – he lost his pants."
"Let me go! Now!" yelled Logan. Rick laughed and twisted his captive's arm painfully.
"The little college punk doesn't have anything in his briefs. Look at that little bump and it's already hard. Marky's got more." Nikita joined him in laughing as Logan blushed in shame.
"Logan you have been a very naughty boy. Here naughty little boys get spanked."
Rick sat on the side chair and hauled Logan over his lap. Being a wrestler and weight lifter meant that he had lots of strong muscles. A quick yank and the briefs were down about his ankles.
"Spank him real good, Ricky. He wanted to spank me before." encouraged Marky.
Logan could not believe how he was being controlled by this kid. A few seconds later he howled as Rick gave him that first spank. Before the echo stopped there was a second just as hard. The spanks rained down hard, fast and heavy. Logan had never been spanked and he was in agony. Rick, furious, was very protective of his big sister. The spanking went on for a long time. Logan kicked a lot but all that did was to cause his pants to fly off. The crybaby never noticed Marky using his camera.
They threw Logan, his wallet and keys out. Half-naked he returned to his dorm. He never ordered any photos so they were posted on the web.
20: This story was inspired by Jonathan's drawing which I found at https://jock-spank.com/unlucky-mugger. Click to open the image off-site (NSFW).. My previous effort based on this drawing is at: The Unlucky Mugger
A Mugger's Tail/Tale
Business was terrible that night for me. It had rained and few potential clients were in the park. I really needed the bread so I was doing overtime even though working under the sun was much more risky. At last, I spotted a good mark. He was a can collector but carried lots of bread and was sleeping on a bench. I went over and was about to cut the cord holding his pouch when I was brutally attacked. There was a crack; a searing pain in my wrist; I dropped the knife. I turned and saw the old man with his cane raised. Then there was another blow – this time on my head – and all went black.
I was told it was only a couple of minutes later that I was conscious again. Someone seemed to be trying to break my arm with a hammerlock holding me over his lap. It was the old man with the heavy cane. While I was out, the old codger had stripped my jeans and hood off. My right wrist hurt so fucking much that I could not bear to use my right hand even to try to get free.
Then he started to beat my butt with his hand and it hurt like hell. I was yelling and kicking but he was as strong as a gorilla. My briefs went flying and he continued spanking me like he was trying to break my ass. He must've had a black belt in spanking for even when dad took his belt to me when I was ten, it did not hurt like this. Look at the picture in last Sunday's Tabloid Press and you can see how viciously he beat me. I'm the cover picture – not that those finks paid me one red cent for my image.
I was saved by a cop. He stopped the mad spanking monster and called for the ambulance. But he also handcuffed me to the bench half naked.© YLeeCoyote
The old man told the cop I was trying to ripoff a guy that was sleeping on the bench. That guy fled so there was no case there. Unfortunately, they had a description of me with my hood so they booked me for a couple of jobs from the previous week. That was after I spent hours in the ER getting my wrist x-rayed and put in a cast still without my jeans. The codger's bitches shredded my briefs. ER finks wouldn't do anything for my painful butt but they checked it out and slapped it. When I howled in pain, they smiled and said: "Seems just fine."
I told the Legal Aid shyster that I wanted to sue the old man for busting my wrist and spanking me but he just laughed. Even if there was not a case, a couple of witness confirmed the old man's story and they got me on the other charges. I'll be a guest of the state for three to five years.
Rampage in the Shop
It was not the first time that the man left his eldest son in charge of the shop while he went to discuss an order with an important client. The youth was old enough to deal with a customer who happened to drop into the shop. Had he not been his first born, he certainly would have been an apprentice to someone already. He was feeling good as he returned to his shop for he had secured a large order for some twenty idols including four jumbo size ones. He even had some items in stock so he could make an immediate delivery and get some prompt payment before the upcoming festival.
Never in all his years did the man experience a shock as he got when he entered his shop. It was a disaster area. Everywhere he looked there were smashed idols. Months of hard labor were now reduced to firewood. Only one was undamaged and it held a large axe. The man was absolutely furious.
Only when the first shock passed did he wonder about his first born and called. He implored the one remaining idol that his son was safe and not broken like the stock or kidnapped to be enslaved. That would be a terrible crime in Ur, the greatest city in the world.
His heart was uplifted when he heard: "Father, I'm here."© YLeeCoyote
The man embraced his son after giving thanks to the great idol he had begged just moments before. Then came the obvious question.
"Father, mother made a fine feast for the idols and I brought it to them. But when the smaller ones tried to get their share, the great one got enraged and picked up the axe and broke them; each and every one."
"Do you take me for a fool, boy? The idols cannot do anything like that." the man yelled. "You have gone mad." With that he grabbed his disrespectful, mad son and dragged him over to the bench and sat down.
"Father, please…" the boy yelled. But his father was not listening. He was intent on teaching his son right from wrong. Many years of hard work carving idols and carrying the heavy logs had made him strong. The boy was helpless in his grip. The man pulled him over his lap and lifted up his robe. Quickly, he moved it under the arm holding the lad. He was too young to have any underwear on so his bottom was now exposed.
"You will regret this terrible deed for a very long time. You have taken the food from your mother's mouth; your father's mouth; from your little brothers Nahor and Haran's mouths and even your own! Do you want to starve?" With that he raised up his hand and brought it down hard on his son's bare bottom. The boy yelled as naughty boys do when walloped hard by their fathers.
Terah stopped only when Abram's bottom was dark red and he was bawling out of control.
Based on several comments about this story, I get the feeling that many people did not recognize the original story. Here are two references: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abraham_and_the_Idol_Shop and www.azamra.org/Earth/mount-03.html or search «Breaking idols Abraham Terah»
A Fair Catch
Vice-principal Elrod was watching the hall monitors from his office. It was after four and club hour was over. The few students still in the building should have been heading for the exits. But he noticed Rumble and Steakley heading the wrong way. He knew these two troublemakers far to well. They were the two oldest and biggest sophomores in the school and they had Bierly between them. Bierly was the youngest and smallest freshman in the school. This was not a good sign at all.
Moments later he was in the hall and spotted Rumble and Steakley heading for the exit. The route they had used only had locked classrooms and students' lockers – freshmen's lockers. He smelled trouble!
"Mr. Rumble; Mr. Steakley there been a report that Mr. Bierly is missing. Have you seen him?"© YLeeCoyote
"No Sir. He's just a freshman."
"Would you help me look for him, please?" The two looked at each other, hesitated before agreeing. They felt trapped but refusal would not be taken well. They checked that the classroom doors were all locked and peeked through the windows. Then the banging on the locker door could be heard. Young, small Mr. Bierly was greatly relieved to be freed. He had horrid thoughts of spending the entire night imprisoned in his locker.
"Thanks guys, I was really afraid that you were going to leave me there all night." he said before noticing the VP. Although small, Bierly was not stupid.
"Let discuss this in my office, gentlemen." and he led them there. Once there he took out the punishment book and the paddle and placed them on his desk. "Do you have anything to say before we continue?" The criminals and the victim remained silent. "Very well, you know the procedure. Get into position."
Rumble and Steakley stood, opened their jeans, slipped them and their briefs down and bent over leaning on the desk as Elrod wrote in the book. Bierly sat there watching intently.
The VP picked up the paddle and got into position. These two really deserved this. He was smiling as he raised the paddle and swung it down hard on Rumbles' bare tail with a most satisfactory WHACK. Then he gave Steakley two in rapid succession. They sounded even better. Rumble got the next two. The following one, on Steakley's butt, was the half way point.
Bierly was thrilled with the show. His hand was fondling the hard bulge in his pants.
The second half proceeded in the same way except that Steakley was first. There was a wet spot on Bierly's pants by the time that the miscreants' pants were raised.
Four signatures finished the book entries. Elrod told Bierly to go and held the others for a few minutes.
In the cafeteria the next day Bierly was invited to join Rumble and Steakley. He was, not surprisingly, nervous. They told him he was a pretty cool guy. If anyone bothered him, just tell them and they'll deal with it. Bierly nearly choked on his food.
The Temple Guardians
Curt and Cory were identical twins. They were so identical that they got into mischief constantly and together. They were on vacation in a distant land but instead of staying in their hotel room they snuck out to have some fun.
Just a short distance down the road was the ancient temple. The place was not locked and guarding the gate there was only a pair of fierce tiger-like creatures. They sneered at the great stone carvings and even hit them. Inside the temple precincts they entered many buildings tracking in mud for they did not remove their boots. When they encountered the temple proper, they laughed at the fiercely carved-wooden, human-like creatures that flanked the entrance.
"These may scare sprits but not us." they agreed while they taunted them with slaps. Then they entered the temple and continued their desecration. Then as they left they heard a voice commanding them to stop. They did not see anybody but the voice seemed to surround them. They looked at each other and laughed as they continued down the great entrance stairs. The voice continued to reverberate inside their heads.
They reached the ground and the wooden temple guardians moved in front of them. Neither could recover before great hands grabbed them. They were held as securely as if they had been chained. «How could idols move?» they wondered. They each were draped over a bar and held in place by one wooden hand while a second ripped the seat of their trousers open shredding their underpants simultaneously.© YLeeCoyote
They had known nothing about spanking but they learnt a great deal that night as the Temple Guardians spanked them – each long, hard and to tears. During the spankings, the voice was lecturing them about behaving properly. Released, they ran out of the temple precincts and back to the hotel.
They were going to report this great assault, but they decided that they would not be believed. Wooden statues just don't move. The next day, their parents noticed that they were strangely quiet especially when they toured the temple.
Back home they were good for a few more days and then the memories of the spanking faded and they reverted to their old ways. They decided that the new boy at school was a nerd and thus should be locked in his locker. They each grabbed an arm and forced the unfortunate lad in and slammed the door.
They felt that powerful grip once again. The Temple Guardians were here! They were bent over the bench and their pants once again shredded. The powerful, hard hands spanked them again. They were bawling when the VP came by. They hadn't any choice but to tell that Temple Guardians had attacked them. Everyone else said that suddenly they lay over the bench, their pants parted and the sound of spanks filled the air along with their cries. Without any apparent reason their butts turned red and they cried. Nobody touched them.
Eventually, they learnt to be good so that they could sit.
24: This story was inspired by the image I describe. I have also done a long version of this story: WindowBoxBoy.html
Window Box Boy
Christopher was only thirteen. He sat in the window box with a malevolent grin on his face. His right hand gripped the end of a rattan cane which he was flexing and holding in position with his left hand. He knew what was going to happen. He was savoring the anticipation. Every second gave him great pleasure as he awaited his brother's capitulation.
Orlando, Christopher's brother was having one of those talks with his mother. The details are not of importance but suffice it to say that his mother was most displeased with her son. If his father had not been away he would have been having this discussion and it would surely have ended with six of the best applied to Orlando's backside.
Orlando already knew that there was not any way that he would not be caned. He was now arguing about who should do it. As much as Christopher was anticipating the great joy to come, Orlando was dreading it a hundredfold more intensely. He begged his mother to allow him to wait until his father's return but she was adamant. After a while, she gave him an alternative. He could ask the headmaster to give him twelve in front of the entire school. But if he refused, then his brother would give him the twelve at school.
They all knew that the head did not approve of the cane so he would be most unlikely to agree. And, of course, twelve from the head would really be terrible especially in front of everyone. To get it publicly from his brother would be social suicide.© YLeeCoyote
Orlando finally acknowledged that he had only one choice. He already had been told exactly what he must say. He turned to his waiting brother and spoke in a low whisper. "Christopher, I have been a most naughty lad. Since father is away, please give me six of the best."
Christopher did not make him repeat it but replied: "Dear brother, I shall be honoured to try to act in father's stead. Please strip and get into position."
Orlando wished that his mother would leave but she remained to watch. As he striped he realized that his mother had not seen him naked since he was a boy of ten. Now he had grown and matured and was obviously approaching manhood. But he did not have any options. He stripped and quickly got into position.
Christopher got up and stood near his brother. He carefully checked that he was in the right place and raised the cane. It SWISHED down with as much force as he could muster and slashed into Orlando's cheeks. The first track mark was forming as he started the second cut. Christopher was elated. He relished the delivering each of the six cuts.
It was bitter for Orlando to thank Christopher for the caning. There were tears on his cheeks and tracks on his bum.
Orlando still had a worry – would Christopher tell that he caned his older brother?
© Copyright A.I.L., Summer, 2006
The End of Collection
The URL for this page is:https://yleecoyote.asslr.org/SSC20062.html
Last updated: September 15, 2023