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These four short stories share the common theme of being PROUD. I wrote the first and made it a challenge on Malespank which was very popular and then I wrote the other three. They are all about discipline. The stories contain scenes of strappings. 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.
The author would appreciate your comments – pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions. Please take a moment to email.
- The Tardy Youth (2011)
- Michael and Juliet (2011)
- The JPC Is Very Educational (2011)
- Halloween Mischief Has Consequences (2016)
Dkellis, one of the other authors on MaleSpank, wrote Proud #22 which is posted here as I wrote an alternative end to it as Spankman #13.
It was careless and stupid of me. I didn't have any excuses whatsoever. I didn't even do anything worthwhile for my fuckup. I was just hanging at the Mall with the guys playing some games and did not watch the time. It would not have been so bad if I had only missed one bus but I missed two of them. The first interval is fifteen minutes but the second one is double that so I was three-quarters of an hour late. By the time I called home, I should have been there, and I had already missed the second bus. It would been better if I had called before the fifteen minutes had passed. Dad grunted at me and told me to park my ass at the bus stop so I could not forget again. I would have walked but there are not any sidewalks where the traffic is, so it is too dangerous at night.
Sitting alone at the bus stop and then on the bus, I contemplated my short term future. I was alone because my buds had gotten their bus to another part of town. Besides, their lateness was not relevant to my situation. What was relevant was that this was the third week in a row and my father was most displeased with my lack of responsibility. He had talked about taking measures. There were two – grounding and earlier curfew – that I most certainly did not want. Even a 'fine' (withholding my allowance) was preferable although not desirable. I kept thinking about the possibilities all the time waiting and riding.
I was certain of one thing only – that Dad was mad as the proverbial hornet. That certainly meant that he would punish me. If I was him, I would come to the same conclusion. It certainly would only make my case worse to argue or make up excuses. It was only as I walked the last couple of blocks to the house that I knew what the solution was.
"Hello, Dad. I'm very sorry. I'll wait for you in my room. Please give me a few minutes to get ready." I said to him as I entered the house and then dashed up the stairs. I quickly used the toilet and then stripped. I then sat on my bed with my heavy leather belt in my hands. I had my desk chair turned around for Dad to sit in while we talked.
I did not need to tell Dad where to sit for he always did that when we had these sorts of talks. I just hoped I would get to talk first.© YLeeCoyote
"Dad," I blurted out as soon as he came into my room, "I know that I really messed up tonight and that it's the third week in a row. I don't have any excuses. I'm sure that you are disappointed in me. I know that I deserve to be punished." I paused and took a deep breath. I stood up and handled the belt to him. Then I assumed the proper position with my hands on my bed and my butt up and presented. This was the first time I was in this position for it had been more than a year since Father had agreed that I was getting too old to be spanked like a little kid OTK in response to my complaints. I did not like the replacement punishments.
I was not sure what would happen. Would Father ground me? Change my curfew? Dock my allowance? Use the belt? He had not been overjoyed with giving up spanking me and this was a more grownup form of spanking that I could accept now that I was a teenager in high school.
Dad surely was considering his options. I could hear the snap when he pulled the double belt taut. "The belt will hurt a lot more than a spanking." he said.
Damn, that was so trite. "Yes, Father. It is suppose to." I replied keeping my position and trying to be very macho.
"Very well." he said moving into position. Then there was that first ever stroke of the belt on my butt. I howled and almost jumped up like a pussyboi but I gripped the bed tightly and held my position. Dad was right. This definitely hurt a lot more than a hand spank. Millions of other youths like me had survived such treatment and I was determined to prove to Dad that I was NOT an irresponsible baby.
Then there was the second, the third,…, and more strokes. Each seared my ass worse than the previous one had. But I kept my resolve until Dad stopped. He tossed the belt onto the bed and pulled me up. He gave me a great big hug. "You took that well, son. I'm proud of you."
"Thanks, Dad." I squeaked. He left me and I got into bed. I lay prone without even the covers touching my very sorry ass. The thing that was echoing in my head was the word "Proud". I certainly had fucked up this evening but had found the way to redeem myself. Dad was probably still angry but probably satisfied that I was repentant.
In the morning, Dad did not say anything about it. I left the subject closed.
* * * * * * * * * *
It was a fortnight sleepover in modern parlance. Michael, the young master, heir to his father's estate and titles, was but sixteen. He went, properly escorted, almost a day's journey to the neighboring castle to stay a few days. It was good politics to be friends with one's neighbors in case of invasion.
His host, Demond, was heir to his father's estate and titles. The visit was an opportunity for the two to become better friends and to share a hunting trip. The two relished the opportunity to compete with a peer rather than with mere commoners who were somewhat deferential. Having had the best, especially of food, both were healthy, strong young bucks and split the contests. Their tutors were most pleased.
Unfortunately, Michael had eyes for Juliet, Demond's sister, a maiden of just twelve summers. Things would have been alright if he had just looked but horny young bucks want more than just to look. To be fair, his interest was encouraged by Juliet's flirting, even under the watchful eyes of her nurse.
Michael was determined to get close to her no matter the risk. One night, he climbed out his window and worked his way to her window. It was a perilous task clinging to the rough stone wall of the castle. As it was a hot summer night, as hot as the blood of a love-struck youth, the window was open. He made his illicit entry and saw, by the light of the moon, the maiden asleep in a diaphanous garment. He admired her beauty and then leaned over her and kissed her on the lips.
She awoke with a start which was their undoing, for her nurse heard. She dashed into the room and shrieked loudly. It was a very loud shriek that could be described as sufficient to wake even the dead. It was more than sufficient to summon the guards. Michael was taken.
* * *
In the morning, the Lord was informed. Once he understood that Juliet's honor was secure and nothing more than a kiss was taken, he relaxed. He was not that much older than Michael so that he could remember how the blood of youth runs hot in his veins. He also appreciated Michael's bravery and daring and certainly he was a candidate for his daughter's hand in the near future.
Had Michael been a serf, the guards would have dispatched him immediately for such a heinous crime. A free man of low rank would have been flogged and languished some time in the dungeon if he was fortunate enough to keep his head attached to his neck. But Michael was of high rank, as high as his own son and had to be treated with care. While he was deciding, both Juliet and Demond pleaded with their father that he show mercy to their friend.
The Lord made his decision. The room was set up and the proper witness were assembled. Only high ranking witness were permitted but the report of punishment must be wide spread to discourage others. Accompanied by his tutor, Michael was the last to enter the room to hear his doom. "Sixteen strokes." was the sentence. The Lord was of few words.
As instructed by his tutor, Michael approached the spanking bench, dropped his tights and kneeled. He waved off the stewards who wanted to strap him into position and instead tightly gripped the handholds. The strong sergeant, naked above the waist so that his great muscles showed, approached with the heavy strap. There was a drum roll and he began.
WHACK!
A steward called out the count. Michael tightened his grip and clinched his teeth ever tighter on the leather in his mouth. Over and over the strap bit Michael's posterior turning it fiery red with only the WHACKS of the strap and count of the steward being heard.
"The sentence had been carried out, My Lord." said the steward and the sergeant withdrew.
Michael spit out the leather, released his grip and stood up. After pulling up his tights, he bowed respectively to the Lord and turned to leave. He took but five steps before Juliet caught up with him, threw her arms about him and gave him a kiss. "You were ever so brave, Michael." she said and dashed off.
A little later with Demond in his rooms, he was told that you did very well, Michael. I'm proud of you and Juliet must be also.
It was a painful ride back home on his sore tail just a day later. It was a chance to talk most privately with his tutor as they rode. "It was a most foolhardy thing that you did going to Juliet, lad. You could have died broken at the bottom of the wall or killed by the guards."
"Aye."
"But you took that strapping very well." he added. "Juliet is certainly enamored of you and you impressed the Lord as well." He paused before adding, "I daresay that your Father will be proud of you."
* * * * * * * * * *
My buds and I love to go the Judicial Punishment Center (JPC) downtown to watch – not participate – in the proceedings. We are all in high school now and have moved on from OTK spanking by our fathers to more mainly things – belts, straps, paddles, slippers and even canes. The details vary, but when we have earned a whipping, it's "UP AGAINST THE WALL, BOY." Not quite that way but to bend over and lean on it with our bare butts stuck out for our fathers and others to thrash. None of us like doing that, but it is an entirely different matter to go to the JPC and watch the proceedings.
Occasionally, we all go to watch after school. The unlucky guys who are still in school are assigned reporting times after school hours although most of them are JD's who cut all the time. It is fascinating to watch some of these tough hoods act like little pussybois when they have their pants down and their bare butts up for the state's strap. Sometime, they even are whimpering before the first stroke. Those end up bawling like babies after they are freed. They rarely start with hardons and always finish looking like they had just gotten out of a cold bath.
To be fair, some of them are really tough and take it quietly so that they can boast to their buds how macho they are. Occasionally, one of them will shoot a load and even remain hard as he walks off the stage showing off his hot red tail defiantly.
Today was different. School got cancelled after the first period because of some fire violation with the oil system. Who cares – we got the day off and hot footed it down to the JPC. In the morning, it is more interesting for that is when the older guys are scheduled.
One gets to see real criminals who get a score (or more) of the heavy strap before they are shipped off to the penitentiary. For the most part, they take it quietly. After all, it not a good idea to be tagged a crybaby when you are going to the pen. They also do the minor offenders who have gotten traffic tickets and the like. The behavior of these guys varies a great deal. Anyway, it is mixed bag what one sees on any particular day.
We got there early and got great seats. I have learnt to pee at the beginning so I have an opportunity to slip a condom on. These strappings are very [s]exciting and this prevents me from having an embarrassing wet spot on my jeans. It was more than enough that I got razed about one a previous time.
Anyway, we were sitting waiting for the show to start. By then we all have at least half hard ons but by the time we left we had all have iron rod tent poles demanding attention. The first dozen were routine strappings. A third of the men take it, well, like men and a third like boys with the rest in between. We kidded each other about how we each take our strappings from our dads. Truth be told, we are all about average, and it varies with how many cuts and how angry our dads are each time.
Then came the shocker. Ben suddenly punched me in the arm. "Dude – that's your old man." I looked and sure enough it is. In case I had any doubts, it was up there on the screen. He had gotten a speeding ticket – nine strokes with the medium strap as the sentence. I was torn about staying or not. My buds had no such problems and wanted to watch. They insisted that I stay.
At least I was not initially embarrassed for he kept himself in good shape for an old man of forty. No paunch, toned and a reasonable sized dick. I wouldn't have mentioned that except the guys did. At least they were not laughing or making fun of him (and indirectly of me). I guess that I got caught up in what was happening as he was bent over the spanking bench. They always put a thick strap over the guy's back to be sure he does not move. The man wielding the strap was all business as usual. He approached, knowing exactly where to stand and proceeded to swing the strap. The reports filled the hall as it always did. I saw the first red stripe form on my father's behind. He did not scream or yell. Fortunately, he did not embarrass me.
After all nine strokes were done his ass was a hot red swollen pain center. He had not yelled or anything. He took it just the real tough criminals did – in silence – like a true man. I hurt for him. Although I had not swing the strap myself I was beginning to understand why he always told me that it hurt him to spank or strap me.
My friends were very impressed about how well he behaved.
"He did not yell." said one.
"Your dad is tough." said another.
* * *
That night, after dinner I asked dad if we could have a private talk away from my siblings and even mother. We met in his den. The place where I had gotten uncountable lectures and many spankings and now even strappings. This time was very different.
"Dad," I started, "I was at the JPC this morning." I could see the surprise and then concern on his face. "No. Not hooky; school was cancelled. I saw you get strapped." I took a big breath. "Dad, you showed how a real man takes his punishment. My buddies were impressed but not like I was. I'm so PROUD of you and that you are my father."
* * * * * * * * * *
I'm Nelson. I'm thirteen years old and live with my father and older brother Jed. He is two years, eight months and twelve days older than I as he has been reminding me since I learnt to count. It is probably fair to say that he is an a-hole. Anyway, last week Dad had to go on a business trip for a few days. There is one thing Jed and I do agree on is that we are old enough to be on own for a few days especially when we have to attend school and keep up with our homework. This was an unusual trip because Dad would be gone Thursday until Sunday evening for that how his business obligations demanded. We agreed on special rules especially for Friday evening which was Trick 'n' Treat night.
I wasn't particularly surprised when Jed stayed out past his curfew and I just hoped that Dad wouldn't call to check up which, fortunately, he didn't. What did surprise me was what I saw him doing with a batch of eggs. He was throwing them at our neighbor's car. Mr. Rendleman had foolishly left it parked in his driveway like he was asking for it on this night of mischief. But that is not any excuse to be a vandal and I got a great video showing Jed's multiple choreographed windups and missel launches.
I sent him an email nicely entitled: "Halloween Vandal Caught in the Act". You probably heard him shriek when he checked his mail in the afternoon. It did not take very long for Jed to find me and he was livid. His remarks were both incoherent and extremely vulgar. He was even madder when I told him what three things he had to do. First, apologize to Mr. Rendleman. Second, clean up the mess he made. Third, (and probably the hardest) ask me to give him the strapping he so richly deserved. I made it absolutely clear that it was totally his decision what to do but I did suggest that Dad would enjoy the video.
Steam practically came out of his ears for he fumed so much. But after a while he went out to see Mr. Rendleman and tend to his car. Then he returned to see me. It took him many tries before he could actually ask me to use the strap on his ass. I demanded that he actually ask me in precise terms what he wanted from me and eventually he did. It was better than the sweetest music I ever heard. I sent him to fetch the tawse. It is a nasty piece of leather cruelly designed to inflect great pain on the boy whose is leathered with minimum exertion by the wielder. It was a role I was delighted to assume.
I thought how it would be nice to have a woodshed but those days are long past. I was working on the back porch and decided to do it there. It is private enough that I could make Jed strip completely and bend over the railing to get his ass into a good position. I even had my camcorder neatly set up to capture it for prosperity although I did not tell Jed about it.
Once Jed was in position I took the tawse and got into my place. It was quite a thrill to swing it and mark my naughty big brother's ass good and proper. He yelped which brought a big grin to my face and hardened my cock even more. I gave him ten good hard cuts leaving his butt bright red and swollen. He rushed away to try to cool it but also so I would not see how tearful he was.
We both thought the matter was closed, however, on Monday evening Dad brought it up. It seems like Mr. Rendleman had told him about Jed's remorse and all. He told Jed to fetch to strap because he should have known better than to throw eggs in the first place. I could have kept my mouth shut and let Jed get strapped again but that did not seem right. Jed was dismayed that he was going to get it a second time. I told Dad that Jed had already been strapped and showed him the proof. This time Jed was grateful that I made a recording.
The upshot was that Dad was very impressed. He lectured Jed and told him that he was ashamed. However Dad was super proud of me not only for being well behaved but for disciplining my brother so appropriately.
I was delighted with that but totally thrilled that he said: "From now on Nelson will be charge when I am away with full authority." He did not have explain what that meant. Jed definitely was not happy about all this but I was positively elated to be appointed the brother-in-charge.
The End of the collection.
© Copyright A.I.L. April 25, 2011 and September 12, 2016
Your comments are appreciated. YLeeCoyote@juno.com Male Stories (without sex) Main Directory
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Last updated: September 15, 2023