Short Story Contest Entries for 2000 -- Part 1/2

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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. Sometimes 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 first thirteen SSC2000 stories are on this page and the others at SSC2000 – Part 2/2.

The Bet (buddies)

If You Can't Do the Time, Don't Do the Crime (machine/male)

You Got Mail – I (domestic)

You Got Mail – II (domestic)

Sorry, No Coyote Story Today (machine/male)

Feminine Wiles (F/F, domestic)

A Spanking Hard Day (M/multiple)

Sauce for the Goose is Sauce for the Gander (domestic)

Consequences (top/brat)

Crime and Punishment (domestic)

Red "F" and Red Tail (M/t, parental, schoolboy)

Moving On (Myth/Fantasy, Paddle)

Rent Day (M/F, F/M, public, nc)

Short Story Contest Entries for 2000 – Part 1/2

YLeeCoyote@juno.com

1: Two buddies, two teams, a bet and a paddle. Enjoy.

The Bet

They were the best of mates. Ever since they meet in the third grade, half a life time ago they had been the best of friends. They were more identical than twins – they agreed on everything. That chocolate was the food of the Gods. That blue was the right color for everything. That the Village People were the sexiest group (even though they were ancient). Even that May 29 was the best day of the year since it was their common birthday. They were inseparable and even their parents were sometimes confused about which one of the two was the son and which the friend.

They agreed on everything but one thing.

Exactly one thing – which was the best team: the Eagles or the Devils.© YLeeCoyote

A truly objective judge would have ranked the teams even, but George knew that the Eagles were the best while Roger was equally sure that the Devils were tops.

The season was drawing to a close. The last game was today. The teams were even and faced off against each other. George and Roger were riveted to the TV watching. The paddle lay on the coffee table beside the popcorn, chips and sodas.

They had bet their asses. The paddle was ready for the payoff.

The game was neck and neck until the very end. The buddies had stripped down. The bet called for an immediate payoff.

With just 2 minutes left to play, the Devils were two points ahead. Then Eagles scored and, surprisingly, once again. They won the game in the last seconds. The crowd went wild.

George smiled and picked up the paddle. He walked over to the chair that had been prepared. Roger was there already.

They shook hands like good sportsmen. There wasn't any need for words.

Happily George handed Roger the paddle and laid across his lap to collect the bet.

WHACK!!

George was smiling broadly as Roger started to payoff the bet.

The End

2: If you don't know what a Juvenile Punishment Center (JPC) is, you had better read Nialos Leaning's story: Timmy's Unpleasant Encounter of the Mechanical Kind on his web site at https://puericil.netlify.app/fna/ in the 'Young Spanking' section. You will probably be able to guess from the context here.

If You Can't Do the Time, Don't Do the Crime

Peter and Kev, his younger brother, were looking forward to this week for their parents had to go on a business trip. For the first time ever, they had convinced them that they could stay home alone.

Monday morning disaster struck Peter. There was a pop quiz in history. He dropped his answer card into the grading terminal and it popped out showing a "D" and that was not for "delightful" but "deficient".

It would not have been a major disaster if his parents had been home. Such a grade called for a spanking and then grounding for three days. He would not have liked it but it was not a big problem midweek. But with his parents away the spanking would come on Friday and the grounding would be for the weekend. The party Friday, his date Saturday and the barbeque Sunday would all be forbidden.© YLeeCoyote

Kev understood the problem. "I have it." Kev ejaculated enthusiastically. "We don't need dad, we can do this ourselves."

"You're not going to spank me and even if you did dad would not believe it was adequate."

"Not me, the JPC! Dad will believe that they did it right."

It took them over an hour to get the petty bureaucrats to agree without pre-authorization from their parents.

Kev watched from the spankatorium while Peter went inside. Soon Peter was being strapped down in the Spanking Machine. The SM raised its arm and the leather strap came crashing down on his waiting butt. He yelled. It really hurt! The action was repeated every six seconds without any fatigue for 3.6 minutes.

After one minute Peter knew he was being properly spanked.

After two minutes he started to cry.

At the end he was bawling like a baby.

He was released. He composed himself. He washed the tears away. In the mirror he saw that his butt was flaming red hot. He picked up the official record.

They walked home quietly. Peter showered and tried to quench the fire in his butt with the cold water.

Kev rubbed some Sportscreme on the bruised flesh and parked him in the corner. "Dad always makes us do some corner time, Pete. I'll get supper."

Kev promised his brother that he would never tell about what happened in the JPC and that he was sure that dad would be satisfied.

Kev also carefully documented that his brother followed the grounding rules. By Friday, the marks had faded.

Friday afternoon Pete, Kev and their parents meet to review the week. There was little to talk of except for one little item. Then Pete showed his parents the unacceptable quiz.

"This is not good, Peter."

"Yes, father."

"You know what we agreed."

"Yes, father."

"Please look at this, Father." Kev handed dad the JPC's certificate and grounding log.

While the boys partied, their parents talked about how grown up their sons were. They tried not to dwell on the huge mountains of dirty clothes, dirty dishes and the garbage through the house.

The End

3: This is a domestic story. As to gender and location, please select your own planet, sentient species and character genders.

You Got Mail – I

Pat and Chris had a wonderful vacation. Three glorious weeks touring the continent. Three glorious weeks worrying about bills NOT! The previous six months had been rough. Their creditors had been demanding payment. The utilities were at the limit – pay or be cut off. Then the contracts were finished and the clients paid on-time with good checks. Their bank account was never so flush. Of course, as soon as their own checks cleared that bank account would be much smaller but still adequate to allow the vacation and to live until the next set of checks.

They got home on Friday about sunset. They had to weekend to recover, prepare for the new week and the new clients.

Pat opened the door and flipped the switch to turn on the light. The switch moved but the light didn't. They entered and tried other things.© YLeeCoyote

The power was off.
The phone was dead.
The water taps did not even drip.

The post had worked and there was a pile of mail by the front door. Pat flipped through the mail and extracted nine letters in their window envelopes – three each from the electric, phone and water companies. In each case it was a FINAL NOTICE: Pay within 48 hours or be disconnected, the disconnect will happen on date and how to get service restored – business days from 9 to 5 with full payment (in cash, please) and deposits.

Pat had paid the credit cards and mortgage. Chris had been responsible for the utilities. Then Pat saw the three thin envelopes on the piano. The three envelopes with the checks for the electric, phone and water companies.

Chris groaned.

There was absolutely no question about guilt.

There was even less question about consequences.

Pat sat down on the couch and ordered "STRIP!!".

A lap was patted. Chris got into position.

Pat's hand held Chris's butt. Chris' hand held three envelopes.

Pat started to spank. Chris resolved never, ever, to forget to post letters again.

Pat continued to spank. Chris began to cry.

Pat had all evening. Chris knew that it was going to be a very long evening.

The house was not livable. There was not anything else to do.

As the last rays of the sun faded, the room was lite by the glow of Chris' butt.

The End of Part I

4: This is a sequel to the previous story.

You Got Mail – II

Pat and Chris recovered from the utilities-less weekend and got on with work and play. Pat, as you would expect, was still keeping a watchful eye on his partner to be sure such problems did not re-occur.

It was that time of the month again. The time when tensions are high.

Pat asked the question that Chris had been expecting for several days now.© YLeeCoyote

"Did you mail the utility payments, Chris?"

"Er, er, no but...."

Pat cut Chris' stammering short. "What did I say would happen if you did not mail them on time and with stamps.?"

"You would spank me. You would spank me extremely hard."

"Strip"

"But ...."

"Now!"

Chris obeyed for there was no talking with Pat in this state. Pat pulled Chris into position and started to spank – hard.

After a few minutes, Chris was sent for the hairbrush. The hated hairbrush that brought back horrid memories of mother using it all too freely.

"Please, Pat." begged Chris falling again in to the overlap position.

In a few minutes Chris' cries where like those of a banshee. The tears dripped on the carpet. Then Chris studied the corner for a long time.

After a long time, Pat spoke. "Get the checkbook and the bills, Chris."

Chris did not sit down but just put the checkbook with the bills on the table in front of Pat.

Pat was stunned. The "enclose this part with your payment" stubs were not there. Each statement was stamped paid. Pat looked questioningly at Chris. "I was downtown last week, so I paid them at the bank and saved the postage."

Pat rose and embraced Chris. "I am so sorry. Please forgive me, Chris, Please."

The embrace was enthusiastically returned. "Of course, I will forgive you. You are my life."

Pat kissed Chris. "You're so kind, Chris."

"There is a small price to pay. A spanking...."

"A spanking?"

"Yes – seven spankings in fact.
    A spanking for spanking me unjustly.
    A spanking for jumping to conclusions.
    A spanking for not trusting me.
    A spanking for not letting me finish a sentence.
    A spanking for using that dreaded hairbrush.
    A spanking for being a pig headed, stubborn ass.
    And finally a spanking because I love you so much."

The End

5: Sometimes machines are not as predictable as we would like.

Sorry, No Coyote Story Today

I was depressed yesterday.

I had not originally planed to put up a SSC story everyday but it sort of happened and I wondered if I could thrill the group with a COYOTE STORY – one-a-day for a week. But yesterday I just could not come up with anything. Every idea was a bust because it was no good or too good and already over used. As you can imagine this was very depressing for a genius like myself.

As I sat at my typewriter my eyes wandered about the room. They caught the ACME GENERAL MERCHANDISE CO. catalog. Maybe some ideas there. I started to browse. In the things for the home section, I saw it. I wish I hadn't but.... The ACME Spanking Machine! As with most items, available in three models: good, better and "our very best". They were the same machine except the "better" had a motor, rather than a rope, to lift the weight driving the paddle and the "very best" was completely automated.© YLeeCoyote

I filled out the order form and dropped it the corner post box. I was almost run over as the delivery truck roared out of my driveway. I had ordered the "good" not really needing the convenience of the "better" and its higher cost. They sent the "better" and explained that the other was out of stock and this one was on sale.

I set it up in the garage and tested it. I put a bolster in the machine, set it for medium and zero-five spanks. I pushed the start button. The motor turned and the paddle came down with a thud on the pillow. The counter dial dropped to four. I watched as the machine cycled four more times and stopped when the counter reached zero.

I set the dial for ten and got into position. I pushed the start lever. The clamps about my limbs closed assuring that I remained in position. The paddle rose. It crashed down on my rump with a loud THWACK!! I howled. It really did hurt. The counter dial went to eleven! The cycle started again. Now it was at twelve.

Then I saw that count up/down lever had slipped into the count up position.

It was now at thirteen.

I could not read it by the time it passed sixty-three on the way to ninety-nine. I was, dear friends, crying by then.

Eventually it reached zero-zero. The spring pulled the start lever back and the clamps released. I crawled to the cool stream to soak my flaming rump.

And that dear readers is most regrettably why there is not a COYOTE STORY for you today. If I can sit at the typewriter maybe tomorrow.

The End

6: Not my usual combination as this is F/F story. It is definitely not lesbian nor romantic but family. Other combinations of genders would work, but I think this is the best choice.

Feminine Wiles

Mary paced the floor nervously. The grade report had come in the morning post and it was not good. To put it bluntly, it stank. It was so awful that it rated an major spanking.

Mary was hoping that Jennifer, her daughter in college, would get home before Joseph, her husband, did. If Joe was home first it would mean a trip to the woodshed. She knew how angry Joe would be and how very hard he would hit with his heavy belt. It had happened before and she did not want it to happen again.

She saw it in her minds eye. Joe walks in, sees the report and then immediately yells: "To the woodshed, now!" To hide the report until after dinner would have its own penalty. The music must be faced. Mary and Jen must take care of this before Joe gets home.© YLeeCoyote

As Mary continued to pace the floor, Jen came home all happy. She had a date with the one she most wanted. Mother and daughter reviewed the report together.

There was nothing to say that would help.

But there was one thing to do. They could deal with this woman to woman; mother and daughter together. Joe might be angry at them, but there was not any double jeopardy in this house.

"Over the end of the couch."

"With the belt."

They agreed.

She stripped and got into position. The strapping started.

She yelled. And then she cried.

Joe came in at the end as she was going to the corner.

"Good evening dad, mom messed up school, again." Jen said dutifully.

Joe sighed.

The End

7: If TVLand was like this, that's what we would all watch. Think about those 1950 family sitcoms like Leave It to Beaver. (Will someone please spank Eddy long and hard.)

A Spanking Hard Day

As the kids raced for the bus stop, Alexander kissed Betty and left for the office.

The day was pretty quiet until he discovered that his secretary had misfiled the reports he needed for the President's meeting. He was late because of that.

The discussion with Chris was only a minute. Then he pulled Chris over his lap, raised her skirt, pulled down her panties, admired her cute butt and spanked her hard. In just five minute her butt glowed like the setting sun.© YLeeCoyote

That afternoon, the office boy was up to his pranks once again. "Donald, what did I tell you I would do if you disrupted the office again?"

"Spank me, Sir." Donald whispered.

Alexander opened frightened youth's belt and pants which fell to his ankles. The briefs followed and overlap he went. Alex picked up the heavy ruler and started to use it as a paddle. He liked the way Donny's butt turned red in nice straight strips. That was just a brief and passing phase for soon the lad's butt was completely red and the other end crying. He led the boy up and noted that there had been a response in the front also.

"Donald, if there is a next time you'll get it in the outside office. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Alex was hoping to rest when he got home. It was not to be. As he got out of the car, he saw Esther sitting on the porch steps. It was not a good sign for it meant that Betty had said: "Just wait until your father gets home." Esther had a long story but finally admitted that she did deserved a spanking. Alex lowered his daughter's jeans and panties and pulled her over his knee. She tried very hard not to cry, but she did as her cute little bottom turned bright red. When he was finished, she ran off to cry in her room.

As he was reading the paper, a softball – shattering the window – came into the room. Seconds later his two sons dashed in. Fred spoke first to his brother: "George, were in big trouble." and then to his father: "Hi, dad." There was no need for discussion. Alex watched as the boys cleaned up the mess.

They both knew all too well the price of playing ball in the front yard. They handed their belts to dad. Then they dropped their jeans and briefs and assumed the position. They each got fourteen hard licks with the belts which they accepted without a whimper. At the end they each shook their father's hand and thanked him for disciplining them.

When he went out to close up the garage he noticed the new scrape on Betty's car.

"It really was not my fault, dear. That lamppost jumped at me." she claimed. He pulled her over his lap and raised her nighty. He just loved those cute and sexy buns. He caressed them tenderly before spanking them hard. Then they got into bed and

>ERROR: File truncated to maximum size.
Warning: rest of data lost.

The End

8: The title indicates equality; perhaps.

Sauce for the Goose is Sauce for the Gander

She so wanted to please him. The joy of the honeymoon was still with them both. This afternoon she baked a cake. She did it from scratch using grandma's old recipe. She put it in the oven and then went out into the yard after plugging in the 30 meter telephone extension cord and picking up her laptop. Then at the far corner of the yard, under the trees she started to browse the world wide web. In fact, she went to her favorite site the Unofficial Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Netring [now defunct]. Links to so many wonderful sites to chose from with so many wonderful stories and even more links. She did not look up for more than two hours.

When she did, it was to see and hear her wonderful husband of just three months. She jumped up at the sound of his voice and ran to hug and kiss him. But today his response was strangely cold. He looked angry. She never saw him angry like that before.

"What is wrong with you?" he snapped, "The house was full of smoke and the smoke alarm blasting. The oven on and a brunt crisp inside. And you out here playing. The house could have burnt down."© YLeeCoyote

She was confused and upset. She tried to talk but couldn't.

He looked at the laptop to see what she had been reading. He read some of the stories on sss that she had read. He hit the back button on the browser and read some more. The history list provided even more evidence. He learnt a lot about what his wife was interested in. He logged off and lead her back to the house.

The smoke had cleared and the alarm was silent. They looked at the cinder that was to have been the first real cake for him.

"Oh, darling, I'm so sorry." she exclaimed.

He lead her to the bedroom. He stripped her. He spanked her hard. She yelled and cried but strangely did not resist.

When he lectured her, she meekly said: "Yes, Master." with great feeling and sincerity.

As he caressed her hot red glowing buns his fingers slipped between her legs and down into her sex. He was amazed at how she was dripping. It was only then that he realized how his own sex had been straining at his trousers for a while. He laid her down on the bed and quickly striped.

Later, they both realized that this had been better even than the first night of their honeymoon. He realized that his old grandpa was right about how to deal with woman. A traditional marriage was still a great idea.

The End

9: I was asked: "Why is it that none of your stories ever go into a descriptive spank scene?" Because in the SSC there is not the space to do both a story and a detailed spank scene. The comment continued with "Please, give us a good spank scene to savor?" So here it is. (See what constructive criticism can do.) Please don't ask me if "M." is master or mistress for I just don't know. I know that the narrator's "I" is the voice of an Assville brat.

Consequences

It was the third time that I did it and the consequence was a spanking. There was not any need nor time wasted on further discussion.

It started with my being stripped. Shirt and pants, shoes and socks, and finally my underwear formed a pile to the side and I was stark naked; fully exposed. Even though this was to be a punishment spanking, as the Church Lady would say, my naughty bits were fully engorged. This fact did not go unnoticed although it was not mentioned.

Now more roughly than M. had stripped me, M. flipped me OTK. M. grabbed both my arms and held them tightly high up as they would go between my shoulder blades. It was clear that I was not to move nor do any other than be the target. M.'s large strong hand caressed my buns. The hand moved all around. The fingers explored everywhere. Although M. was intimately familiar with every bit of me M. explored everything every spanking.© YLeeCoyote

The hand stopped exploring. I knew what was next. I did not have to wait long. M. lifted up the hand. I felt the coolness of the room. Then the gentle breeze before M.'s palm connected with my butt cheek. It connected with great ferocity. I could not help but to yell. Every time I promise myself that I will not yell on the first spank; every time I scream. Before my scream echos off the wall of the small room, M.'s hand had once again gone through a full cycle and has crashing down on my other cheek. My screams blend into one. I have absolutely no doubt that I am being spanked.

As my entire being – body and soul – are spanked into that special space where I am totally M.'s. M. waits and watches. M. loves to see the hand prints form on my bottom. M. caresses me some more as this happens. Then M.'s hand lifts up again and comedown again and again and again. I quickly lose track of the number of spanks. There is some sort of measurement device in my bottom, but it is quickly overloaded. All it can do is report:

"SPANKS! SPANKS!! SPANKS!!! PAIN! MORE PAIN!! EXCESSIVE PAIN!!!"

All I can do is cry. Then I bawl. M. continues to spank. I know I am being punished. I also know I will be forgiven. M. spanks. I cry. M. is in control; total control.

M. will always be in control. I will always submit. That is the way of the universe.

M. stops spanking and lifts me up. M. hugs me and comforts me until I stop crying. M. forgives me. M. takes me bed. M. holds me all night.

The universe is at peace. M. is at peace. I am content.

The End

10: Some crimes are of interest to the State while other are just domestic issues.

Crime and Punishment

Robin was not the happiest of campers. Pat was away and would not be back for several days. There was lots of required overtime at work so there was not time for Robin's favorite play (with Pat away) – reading sss. It was the beginning of June and the SSC was really going strong. People had lots of pent up stories and were eager to post them.

Robin loved all of the stories posted but loved the SSC stories the most of all. It was because they almost always had cute twists in them like Munro and Porter did so beautifully.

Then a happy surprise at work. The rush job was finished and boss gave everyone the afternoon off with pay (in addition to the overtime already earned). Robin was delighted and rushed home to relax. Relax with the SSC wishing that Pat was also there. In the three days since Robin last logged on, more than a score of stories had been posted. Robin devoured them like a starving animal suddenly finding food. Then went back and read them all again slow to savor them. Finally, in appreciation Robin posted many: «Great story. It really surprised me that it was XXXX who spanked YYYY rather than the other way.» re's usually following a quote of the last paragraph.© YLeeCoyote

Robin went to bed a happy camper. Well, as happy as possible with Pat away.

The next day, after work and shopping, Robin logged in again but going to sss suddenly discovered: "Access Denied – Parental Restrictions in Effect". Robin then checked the mail; Pat surely would have sent an explanation. Robin wrote and asked? What was the transgression? Robin tried to watch TV but that was terrible.

Two days later Pat returned and Robin was exhibiting extreme withdrawal symptoms. Robin not only had not been spanked but had not even been reading about it. Robin also knew that asking why was not a good idea but it was best to wait until Pat decided to tell.

It was well after dinner and was cleaned up that Pat decide to discuss the matter. "Have you figured out what you did wrong?"

Robin's head swung back and forth to indicate no.

"It was your posts to sss?"

Robin's head swung back and forth to indicate still no idea.

"They all gave away the twist. It ruined the stories for anyone who read your "re" before the story. The author's work was destroyed. The readers were deprived of a happy read."

Robin groaned the groan of leaning of committing an inconsiderate, stupid, selfish, unthinking fuckup. Robin knew what was required. Robin striped and got the paddle. The big heavy frat paddle for a punishment spanking not the nice light ping-pong paddle for a play spanking.

Robin handed to paddle to Pat and assumed the position.

Pat got into position and raised the paddle and brought it down hard on Robin's butt. Raised and lowered it many times.

Raised and lowered. Raised and lowered. Raised and lowered…

The End

11: This is a story about parental disciplining a schoolboy is pretty standard until the end. Try to guess the twist.

Red "F" and Red Tail

Dick walked home from school, slowly for he was depressed. Stuck into his books was a history test with a great big fiery red F inscribed on it by his teacher. When he was handed the paper in class it came with an angry order: "GET YOUR FATHER TO SIGN THIS AND BRING IT BACK TOMORROW." Dick was not a happy camper for he knew he was going to get a lecture at both ends. He knew that his butt would be as fiery red as that horrid F by the time he went to bed this night.

As always, Alfred had a snack ready for him when he got home and informed him that Mr. Wayne was working downstairs. He waited a little, trying to do his homework but finally decided that he had better go face the music. He took the "order of execution" and went downstairs to the workshop.

The result were very predictable. Parental anger and disappointment. No interest in hearing about how he was kept from studying by the need to assist his guardian the two school nights before the test.© YLeeCoyote

Then the long lecture.

Then the straight back chair moved to the middle of the room.

Then his slacks lowered.

Then his boxers lowered.

Then positioned over the parental lap.

Then the hand raised and lowered by the strong arm repeatedly.

Then his yells.

Then the hard hand raised and lowered forcefully upon his boy bottom over and over.

Then his promises.

Then the reprise of the hard hand striking his bottom.

Then his crying. The worse thing possible. Robin, the Boy Wonder, crying like a baby.

The End

12: The "Myth/Fantasy" seems to be the only category that this fits into. By now I'm sure you're not going to be surprised that this is gender non-specific, however this tale of tail beating is also species non-specific. The location I can only specify as off Sol-III.

Moving On

Pat swung the paddle, again. Robin screamed and had a great orgasm. Pat loved being top but could not abide being bottom. Pat also climaxed. And then the aneurism of Pat's aorta bust. Pat was dead instantly; well almost, the last twenty heart beats were very painful indeed.

Well, more precisely, Pat was now in the next world. Naked but still carrying the paddle and in line. Pat observed that dress was varied and was soon at the head of the line. "Name, date and place of previous birth, please." intoned the clerk with obvious boredom. The clerk checked some device and directed Pat to Portal "B". Passing Portal "A" Pat noted that it was quite plush with a smoothly running moving stair going up. There was a table with refreshments and an attendant serving the guests. Portal "B" was a mess. The refreshment table was covered with the drunken attendant who now needed a change. The non-moving moving stair was blocked by an old OUT OF ORDER sign and directions to use the down stairs to level 228. This was level 456.

Ages latter Pat, knees and feet hurting, stepped into another lobby. The clerk was abrupt. Pat was directed to Room 123-00-P and then was to go to Room R123-56-B7. When he handed Pat the direction slip, he noted that he already had a paddle and was ordered to go directly to Room R123-86-K7.© YLeeCoyote

Pat was sweating by now. Pat went off in search of Room R123-86-K7. He was confused about why he was so docile. Why everyone was so docile. And why the fuck was it so hellishly hot?

Entering Room R123-86-K7 Pat could not help but to smile. There were long rows of paddlers and paddlees. It was like the sweetest music to Pat's ears how the paddles sounded as they struck. They were synchronized so that sometimes they all hit in unison with a very loud WHACK and other times there was a ripple effect not unlike a precision drill team.

Pat bristled with excitement and played with the paddle anxious to get started. Things could be a lot worse Pat mused swinging the paddle in the hot air.

The clerk in charge of the room led Pat to an empty position. Coming from the other direction was something Pat had never beheld before. It look liked an ugly gargoyle on steroids. IT had muscles that seamed to have muscles of their own but IT did not have a paddle. Fortunately, thought Pat.

Pat did not expect what happened next. For in a fraction of a second Pat was pushed over the spanking bench and the strap fastened. Then IT picked up Pat's paddle just as a ripple paddling started.

Pat screamed for the first time.

Pat had a very long time to consider that the future was bleak indeed.

The End

13: A bit of a change for this is a gender specified story.

Rent Day

The favorite day of the month for Mr. and Mrs. Jones was rent day. They were the resident owner-managers of the "123 Garden Apartments". Most of the time their fifteen tenants paid the rent on time. They were pleased about that for they, in their turn, had to pay their creditors. They had worked out an inducement system to discourage tardiness with the rent payments. Actually it was penalty system but it also gave rewards to those who paid early.

Today Mr. 8 and Ms. 12, (both new tenants) did not have their rent payment. "Please be at the pool at 9 pm tonight." they were told. Word among the other tenants spread quickly. Everyone was gathered at the pool. Mrs. Jones explained that the penalty specified in the lease were to be enforced. Each of the delinquents were to get a spanking – here and now – publicly. The spankers were to be chosen by lot from those who checks had already cleared.

Ms. 12 reached into the bowl and selected her spanker. She was horrified that it was Mr. 10, her immediate neighbor who was always leered and undressed her with his eyes. He, contrariwise, was elated beyond words. He was going to enjoy this. She would be sorry not only for being late with the rent payment but for snubbing him.© YLeeCoyote

Mr. 10 started by giving Ms. 12 a lecture fit for a little school girl. As she stood there, starting at her toes he started to strip her. He pulled off her blouse and then her tight jeans. He unsnapped her bra and letting her perky tits be viewed by all. Then he slowly lowered her panties, carefully examining her bush and the treasures that it concealed. He sat down on the diving board and pulled her over his lap. He caressed her cute, firm and shapely buns. She was repulsed by how his member was throbbing under her tummy. Then he lifted his hand and started to spank her. He spanked hard and fast. Her butt turned pink, red and then deep crimson in a just few minutes. She was crying loudly by the time spanking time was up.

She wanted to run to her apartment and hide but that was not permitted until everyone was allowed to examine her bottom.

Mr. 8 chose Ms. 13. She was a feminist and hated all men. She skipped the lecture and immediately ordered him to strip. She pushed him over the diving board commanding: "STAY!"

She selected the heavy, thick leather strap and stepped into position. She brought it crashing down on Mr. 8's butt over and over. He yelled at the first blow and had to be held by the time she got to the maximum. Ms. 13 dropped the strap and returned to her apartment.

The two delinquents were helped back to their apartments and were treated to ice packs.

By the third day they each managed to pay enough of the late rent so has not to have to make an "interest/penalty" payment.

The End

Collection Continues in Part 2

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Last updated: September 15, 2023