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Boxers Get Me a Red-Hot Butt

by Y Lee Coyote

Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 29 Jan 2018


The following story is fiction about strapping a man.  The story contains scenes of spanking and strapping.  If these subjects are 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.

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My ass is red-hot because it was just strapped a gazillion times.  It fucken’ hurts also as you would expect.

Lance was furious when he discovered that a pair of his boxers was gone.  His room was a disaster area when I borrowed them so who would have thought that he would notice that they were missing.  It was after I tossed them back under his bed while he was in the john the next time that he had the conclusive proof.

I guess that I should explain.  Lance is a seventeen-year-old Adonis that I tutor in his home.  He has an Alpha personality and manages to be in charge all the time.  I guess there are times when society demands otherwise but even then his Alphaness bristles.

My personality is very different for alpha people like Lance easily dominate me.  It has been that way since I can remember.  To round out the picture, you also need to know that I’m a graduate student at the college here in town.  Oh, yes, just one more important detail.  I have not been allowed to graduate from kiddy briefs like all the others in my cohort.  You know, tightie-withies, BVD’s or Y-fronts by my parents.  They insist that boxers (and other stylish designs) are for whose who are men – those who live on their own and not with their parents like I do.

It was last Friday that my life of crime began.  It was in Lance’s room where I do the tutoring that I was overcome with desire.  The place was extra messy so while he was in the john I snatched a pair of boxers from the mess and stuffed them into my bag.  I wanted to know how it felt to wear them.  What harm could it do? I thought.

Now, unfortunately, I know what harm.  And I don’t like it at all.

I wore those stylish boxers on the weekend.  I was very careful not to let my parents see them, changing into them just before I went out.  They are so different from the constricting tw’s that I normally wear.  It was like not wearing anything under my pants.  It was like going commando although in a more sanitary way.  It was terribly comfortable that my privates could move about as they wished.

That evening I carefully hid then in my bag so I would not be exposed although I wished that I could have worn them all night as well.  On Monday and Tuesday I again wore them for a few hours while I was at work at the college feeling safe and daring.

I was amazed at how neat Lance’s room was on Wednesday when I was back there for the next tutoring session.  It never occurred to me that he would have missed them in the clean up and was watching for them.  I thought it best to return them sooner rather than later as that would reduce the discovery opportunities.  I guess that by now it is clear that was a miscalculation and I should have waited for another mess or just dropped them in a public trash can.

When Lance went to get us drinks, I pulled the wonderful boxers out of my bag and tossed them under the bed where (I assumed that) they would be found during the next cleaning cycle.  I figured that would be in a week or two.  I was very wrong for it was within a hour that my world disintergrated.

When Lance took out his wallet to get the cash to pay me, he dropped it.  When he bent over to pick it up, he saw and also got the boxers from under the bed.  Since the place was clean and neat he knew that I had had them.  I was caught!  It was practically like he saw me put them there.  So rather than being handed my fee, I got a long harsh lecture about how stealing and disobeying my parents are unacceptable behaviors.

I don’t stand up well for such things especially when an angry Alpha is delivering such a lecture.  I was quickly reduced to a quivering little boy.  A very naughty little boy who stole.  A very naughty little boy who did what his parents told him not to do.  A very naughty little boy who had earned a severe spanking.  A very naughty little boy whose head was hanging in shame.

It no longer mattered that Lance was just a high school boy and that I was his several years older tutor for I had been transformed into just a little boy due a severe punishment spanking.  He was the Alpha male who easily took command of the situation.

He started to undress me as I quivered and stuttered apologies and made promises.  In that state I was particularly helpless and soon I was naked.  Lance sat on the bed and pulled me over his lap – just the position to punish a naughty little boy.

Then came the first of a zillion spanks.  I started to kick and howl.  He stopped my kicking by putting a leg over mine and then continued to spank harder.  I was already sobbing when he switched to the strap.  A few minutes of that strap whacking my butt easily turned me into a blubbering little boy.  A well-spanked little boy fit for only one place – with his nose the corner and his hands on his head.  And that is where he parked me to cry and to think about my crimes and terrible behavior.

You wouldn’t expect that things could get any worse now that my ass was on fire after my transgressions had been exposed.  Unfortunately they did.  A couple of Lance’s friends came visiting after tutoring time was over.  I was still bare red assed in the corner and they saw me.  Lance explained – in great detail – why I was filling the room with red-hot radiation so that I was quite humiliated.  They each carefully examined my roasted tail and told Lance that he did a good job chastising the naughty little boy and that they wished that they had been able to watch.  I thanked my (somewhat tarnished) lucky stars that they had missed that.

Eventually, Lance told me to collect my clothes and get out.  I dressed on the back porch.  As I walked home, I hoped that my parents would not notice how I was in pain and that I would be fidgeting in my chair at dinner that evening.

I little latter, I realized that I had not gotten paid my tutoring fee.  I hope I will get it next time but I am doubtful.

Crime does not pay.

The End

© Copyright A.I.L.  January 29, 2018

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