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The following story is fiction about a boy's choices about to be spanked. If this subject is 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.
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The twelve-year-old ended the discussion with a simple statement: "Yes, Uncle, I should be spanked."
His uncle agreed as was expected. "When you are ready, come see me." he said simply.
The boy went to his room to think about things. The crime (actually more naughtiness) was not the issue. He knew that he had done the wrong thing. A spanking was the consequence. That part was easy. The hard part was selecting how and when. When he had turned twelve, his uncle told him that he was growing up and it was time that he made some real decisions. Among those were how and when he was punished.
The boy both hated and loved the idea. It was horrid to have to decide how to be punished. But, it was absolutely awesome that he was in control of his own destiny.
How easy it had just last year when he messed up. His uncle (or dad) would just take him by the arm, lead him to the bedroom and take down his pants. Then in various positions his bare bottom would be turned blazing hot red. After that it would be over. He would cry, return and apologize and it would be the end of the incident. Just the thing for a little boy.© YLeeCoyote
But now he was not 'just a little boy'. He was growing up. He was almost a teenager. Almost a young man. He wanted, er, needed, er demanded more freedom, i.e., responsibility. This was not quite what he had thought of but how could he refuse?
There were so many options to consider. Should he select the belt or the strap? That meant that he would drop his pants, bend over and take it like a brave young man without yelling or crying. He would take full responsibility for his mistake.
Or should he select a hand as the implement? Then he would have nothing more to do. His uncle would take down his pants and undies first and then pull him over his lap and roast his tail like he did when he was only five. He would cry like he was five also. When it was over he would be cuddled until he stopped crying.
Those seemed to be the extremes of childish and grown up. It was interesting how things were related. Like in that old movie showing a knights' tilting tournament where the marshal noted how each choice limited the options allowed the opponent.
There also seemed to be an endless selection of implements in the armory to pick from. They included straps, belts, paddles, brushes and spoons, all sorts of things that had been used in the past to inflict pain on his butt. And there were many possible positions to select from. The combinations seemed endless.
Finally, one could not forget that how much spanking was appropriate (required or necessary) also needed to be decided.
It was ever so complex.
It was ever so hard.
But he could not complain about these things for that would say that he was still a little boy. A little boy not able to handle responsibility and he most certainly did not want to be a little boy any longer.
He laid down on his bed and started to think about the confusing myriad of options that existed. Like every time the task was positively daunting. Each was right in some way but also wrong in another. None was clear as the right choice.
Should he choose a simple OTK hand spanking and just cry and then get cuddled? That was easy. It hurt some but the crying did not really mean that it hurt all that much for it was more of a habit.
Should he be a really big boy, no – a youth and just bend over for a strapping? That would hurt a lot more but when it was over he would feel a lot better about himself. It would impress his uncle also and that was a good bonus point.
And then there were all those in the middle options, like with one of the little paddles such as the hairbrush or ping-pong bat. It could be over the lap or just bent over. He might cry or might not. But would his uncle consider it a sufficient punishment? That was always the question that he must keep in mind.
Then there was the count. The all-important count. How many spanks or whacks or cuts were right for the offence and the method? That was also a complex question.
His head was hurting from all the thinking. Homework was easy by comparison. It occurred to him that all this thinking was punishment in and of itself and he could do without the spanking part. But he knew his uncle would never accept that. Actually, neither would he so that copout really did not exist.
He made hundreds of comparisons. Then he finally made his decision.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Uncle," he said offering the short strap. "Ten, please." He noted the slight smile on his uncle's face as he turned, lowered his pants and assumed the position. Bent over the chair he waited knowing that he made a reasonable choice.
It was almost over.
The End
© Copyright A.I.L. January 24, 2018
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Last updated: September 15, 2023