This short story is an entry in the 2002 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and 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
Category: Child
The following is a what going on here story. It is based on an image of a boy leaning over a music stand in what looks like a classroom that someone sent to me. The boy is wearing short shorts and knee socks. His sweater and shirt have pulled up exposing his back just above his shorts. He looks apprehensive and has long bangs. Unfortunately, I don't know about its copyright so I can not post it. By now it is surly obvious that this story is about school boy discipline.
Alfie -- Version 2
By
Y Lee Coyote <YLeeCoyote@juno.com>
Alfie was staring at the clock on the far side of the room. Time was of the greatest importance both to Alfie and his mates hiding in the cupboard under the clock. Alfie had lost the bet and his forfeit was to remain bent over the stand for a full hour. That was not a hard thing to do. The risk was that the Head would drop into the room during that time.
The school's procedure was that young gentlemen deserving of punishment would wait in this room and without discussion receive six-of-the-best from the Head. The masters would inform the Head that a young gentleman would be waiting. Occasionally, the Head would miss a visit and a miscreant would get off scot-free. That might happen if a master forgot to tell the Head or he was otherwise engaged. It was also the Head's practice to check out the school frequently.
Alfie had ten minutes to go. This was the most critical time for it was now five minutes to the official report hour. If anyone came into the room during the next five minutes, the Head certainly would be stopping by.
"CLICK." went the door latch.
Alfie turned his head to see who it was. It was his best mate who gave him a swat on the arse as he rushed to the cloakroom. "I want to watch this."
The second hand crawled ever so slowly around the clock. Then the hour struck. Alfie was relieved for no other student had appeared. The odds were significantly better.
The second hand continued to creep about on its never ending rounds.
Five circuits to go.
Four circuits.
Three circuits.
Two circuits.
One circuits.
A half circuit.
It was almost over thought Alfie. He was almost free. His heart was racing. If heart beats were seconds, it would have already been over.
"CLICK." went the door latch again. Alfie's heart was in his throat before the sound could echo.
Alfie was afraid to turn his head to see who it was. Was it a late boy or the Head?
He heard the scrape of the cane as it was lifted from the table behind him. Then the swoosh as a practice cut was made. He thought he saw the cloakroom door flutter and thought he heard a faint giggle.
"Ready, boy." it was more of a command than a question. He grabbed the stand and braced for the first cut.
SWACK!!
It tore into his bottom like a white hot steel rod. He let out a cry.
SWACK!!
The Head did not hit this hard.
SWACK!!
The head did not have such a deep voice.
SWACK!! SWACK!! SWACK!!
Alfie was hurting. The cane was put down and the caner left. Alfie was in agony as his mates popped out of the cloakroom and surrounded him.
"You did well!" said one.
"Henderson hits a lot hard than the Head!" declared another. Henderson, the sports coach, was a big ex-marine with oversized muscles.
"Thanks." said Alfie.
The End
© Copyright July 26, 2002
Frank <sswitcher(at)yahoo(dot)com>
I quite like this idea. The possibility of getting a caning - and some respect from one's peers - without having to go to the trouble of doing something naughty makes for a fine schoolboy game. I'm sure the boy's mates, hiding in the closet and trying to sneak a peek at the action, risk a serious punishment themselves if discovered, however.
Needy Wench <needywench(at)hotmail(dot)com>
I love the suspense here, the click of the door latch, and I can almost feel the clock hands. I see it in my mind - one of those big schoolroom clocks that make a noise as each minute ticks away. Then to feel the pain of a caning, without seeing who holds the cane! Absolutely delicious! It doesn't wrap as nicely as I'd like however - why the coach?
John <johnb(at)ssec(dot)wisc(dot)edu>
Waiting. A dare. The nervewracking uncertainty. Did he have a hardon, the boy, as he waited for the punishment he did not deserve but might not get? We hope so.
RCG <rcg1574(at)yahoo(dot)com>
Most writers focus on synthesis while others focus on analysis. You seem to favour analysis as the basis for many stories. An intriging way to expand a simple pictoral idea into a coherent story.