I was inspired to write this by a combination of H. H. Munro (Saki) delightful tail of horror "Sredni Vashtar" www.classicshorts.com/stories/vashtar.html and Jonathan's drawing www.malespank.com/spankcartoons/christmas02.jpg.  Thanks to the "magic" of fiction, Conradin aged only fifteen years in the century plus since Munro wrote about him and his personal god, Sredni Vashtar and also emigrated to America.

The following story is fiction about two young men.  The story contains a scene of a paddling and is fantasy.  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 e-mail.

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Conradin had been unhappy with Lars for a while now.  They loved each other dearly but of late the blond boy had gotten impossible.  Lars thought that he was an emperor.  With unwelcome regularity, Lars found great fault with Conradin's mole hills and spanked him.  After each hard thrashing, he brutally fucked him and made him sleep on the couch.  Lying prone and through his sobs, Conradin made his plea to his personal god. "Do one thing for me, Sredni Vashtar.''  It was unnecessary to explain to a god what was wanted now, any more than it had been when he had been a boy of ten.

It was Xmas morning and the couple had returned from a party in the wee hours.  The little boy in Lars insisted that it was time to open the presents under the tree.  There were the usual things from friends and relatives but there was one strange box which they opened together.

It contained a hard wood paddle with holes drilled through the business end to make it more effective.  Conradin's heart sank for he quickly decided that Lars had gotten it to use on his butt as if his strap were not sufficient.

"I got to try this out, Con." he said and pushed him over the arm of the big easy chair.  He raised up the paddle and swung.  It did not crash into Conradin's butt for Lars twisted around and fell.  "What the fuck!" he yelled, sprawled on the floor.

Only when he spoke did they noticed the fur-trimmed, red-suited, white-bearded figure with the black gloves and boots.  "It can't be used that way, Lars.  It is a very special paddle.  Try it Conrandin."  Conradin stared at the figure and saw that he had a white muzzle rather than a white beard, a pink nose and a black mask as he had first thought and knew that it was not Santa.

Conradin picked up the paddle and it felt strange.  It made him feel strange.  He sat down in the easy chair, pulled his mate over his lap and gave him a light pop.  Lars howled like a banshee and jumped up.  Conraden grabbed Lars's belt, opened it and then his shorts and yanked them down to his knees.  He got Lars over his lap without any hassle holding him in place with a hammerlock.  Then he spanked Lars long and hard with the special paddle turning his butt bright red and making Lars yell like a little boy.

"There are going to be a lot of changes around here, young man.  You are going to be polite and considerate to everyone – especially me – or you won't be able sit.  Understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Bedtime, then."

The two went off to bed and as Conradin held his subdued mate he remembered to thank his personal god, Sredni Vashtar the Beautiful, for the gift.  Things would be very different from now on.  He hugged Lars tighter and kissed his nape lovingly.

The End

© Copyright A.I.L. August 27, 2010