The following story is fiction about the birthday spanking of a youth.  The story contains a scene of spanking.  If this subject is offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.  The Law of the Sea regarding rescue and salvage is complex and the author knows little about it.  However, the only thing that is relevant and important here is that saving a craft gets a substantial reward.

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.

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The warden was a cruel beast.  Officially he was the principal of the reform school but warden was a much more appropriate title.  The bastard ran the place like it was a prison full of hardened felons rather than teenaged boys.  It was two days before my sixteenth birthday and I was before him for some petty shit Fatso (one of the nasty guards) falsely claimed I had done in violation of the myriad of rules.

The Warden had made the usual growls and snarls and was about to declare how many cuts from the strap I was to be awarded to teach me to behave properly.  But then Fatso said “Remember the Doc will not be back until Monday.” and also pointed to something on my file that was open on the desk.  The Warden smiled and thanked him.

“Leon Lewter, I was about to order twenty cuts of the strap today but since the Doc is away and in honor of your birthday – a special day for you, I’m reducing it to just sixteen cuts next Monday.”  And then to Fasto “Take him away.”

Great generosity.  Absolutely.  My sixteenth birthday.  A great way to celebrate with a birthday spanking – actually a vicious strapping.  Nice that he reduced the twenty to just sixteen – NOT!  That’s because the strap would change from the junior to the senior one.  The guys that had both said that it was twice as bad.  Some great birthday gift.  I guess it was to be expected from the cruel sadists running the place.

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I broke out that night in the storm.  I did not know where I was running to but just that it was away from that hell hole of a reformatory.  I was down at the waterfront when the storm got more intense so not only was I soaked but cold.  There was a small boat pulled up out of the water and I crawled under the tarp that kept it dry.  I tried to work out what to do but fell asleep.

When I awoke the storm was still raging and I was at sea.  I hadn’t any idea which way land was.  My fate was up to the Great Powers.  Would the storm blow me back to land or further out to sea?  Would the little boat capsize and sink so I would drown or feed the sharks?  Would it stay afloat and I would starve?  All I could do was huddle under the tarp, wait and pray.

The storm blew itself out by the evening and I just drifted both hungry and thirsty.  By the morning the boat had taking in a lot of water and continuing to do so.  I was sure that it would sink and then I would drown.  That would be better than the heavy strap and the rest of the torture.  There was not anything to do but wait.

But then I saw it – a BOAT!

I yelled and waved but there was not any response.  I used the seat plank as a paddle and got close and still no response.  Eventually, I got to her and clambered aboard.  She was deserted.  I found food and water.  I ate.  There was a rope that was torn apart like the storm had ripped the boat from some dock.  A runaway boat just like me.  I guessed that I was now captain and owner.

I felt rich for I assumed that I would be able to sell it when – and if – I got back to land.  But which way was land?  The answer suddenly popped into my head.  Horace Greeley told me the answer – "Go West, young man." for I started on the east coast so land must be to the west.

I was looking at the controls trying to decide what to do.  It looked like a cross between the airplanes and the cars that I had seen in movies.  Then I saw we were heading for a mess of rocks.  One did not have to be a sailor to know that was not good.  I pushed the start button and the engines, thankfully, roared into life.  I pushed the lever forward a bit and the boat moved.  I turned the wheel and headed away from the rocks.  Certainly a lot safer for sure.  I experimented and learnt how to control the vessel and stayed far from the rocks.

The compass told me which way was west and I headed that way.  The fuel gauges showed full which was comforting.  I hoped I had enough gas to get to land.  I kept going.

It was hours later that I encountered another boat.  It was crewed by a rough man with a large thirteen-year-old boy.  The man knew a lot and decided that I could follow directions to the nearest harbor which was just a few hours away.  He also explained that the parted line meant that storm had blown her out to sea and that if I got it to port I would be entitled to salvage fees.  I was shocked that it would be in the six figures.

I started for land but not five minutes later there was a loud explosion.  I looked back and the other boat was on fire.  I immediately headed back.  By the time I got there it had sunk and only the boy was in the water.  I pulled him aboard.  “Sam was yelling about the fucken fuel line again and he was working on it.  Then it fucken exploded.  He was screaming in pain.  Fire everywhere.  Taking on water.  I ran on deck.  Then she sank and you came back.”

I tried to comfort him but he was delighted with what happened.  “I hope that he continues to burn in hell for all of eternity.” he said shocking me.  I little later I learnt that Sam was his extremely cruel stepdad and he was delighted to be a proper orphan.  (Later, I would see both old and fresh marks of beatings as proof.)  “I will live with Uncle Thomas – my mother’s brother.”  Kris and I got to know much about each other’s unhappy lives on the way in.

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A few hours later I very slowly and carefully entered the port and reported to the Captain of the Port and told the story.  I showed the parted line and emphasized how I prevented the boat from being destroyed on the rocks.  Kris told his horrific story again.

I and the boat were problems.  Since I had found ¤2,000 on the boat I could rent dock space and shower access as arranged by the Captain until the salvage reward could be worked out by the lawyers and court.  Also, I was now in a different state with different laws and did not want to return to that horrid reformatory.  The Captain was happy to refer all these problems to the social services.

Things were simple for Kris.  A phone call and Uncle Thomas was on his way but it would take him a couple of days.  He agreed to Kris’s request that he be allowed to stay with me.

Kris and I went shopping for some clothes and stuff.  We ate in the dinner and used the laundromat.  We returned to the boat in fresh clothes after showering feeling much better.  Before we sacked out on the boat, Kris reminded me that it was my special day.

He insisted that I get over his lap for the traditional birthday spanking.  I knew it would be a breeze compared to what Fatso would have done with his strap but I would be amazed.  Kris sat on a bunk and I got over his lap.  I was surprised when Kris put a leg over mine and held my torso down.  “That’s not necessary.” I protested and he disagreed.

That first spank was good and hard was not a surprise but that were all that way was.  I was soon howling and then crying.  “STOP!” I shouted and added “Let me up!” but my protests were ignored.  Before he was finished I was bawling like a newborn baby and had a bright red flaming hot tail.  “This is a restart of your life, Leon.” he declared with a happy grin.

The End

© Copyright A.I.L. February 15, 2021

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Last updated:  September 15, 2023