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Truth Or ...

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: 23 Jul 2017

The following story is fiction about man getting disciplined by several teen boys.  The story contains scenes of spanking, strapping and hair brushing.  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.

The author would appreciate your comments – pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions.  Please take a moment to email.

It was the second week of summer camp.  It was an engineering camp for tech high schoolers who want to build stuff.  The second week was for the older group – the fourteen to sixteen-year-olds.  The first week was for the younger batch – the twelve to fourteens.  It was held on a college campus with the kids staying in the dorm and using the labs which are thrilling for them in addition to the actual course.  I had the not so enviable task of being a chaperon and staying in the dorm although with a couple of assistants by day for the fun part with very enthusiastic students.

I had done this for a couple of years while I was a graduate assistant/student and the money was good.  The eagerness of the kids made the teaching easy as there weren’t any discipline problems.  They were all attending because they very much wanted to.

The evenings, however, were a bit different.  A pack of boys has a tendency to get wild and they need reminders to calm down and not fight.  For many it is the first time away from home (sleepovers don’t count) so they need some reining in.

It was a couple of hours after dinner on Monday when the troubles started.  Nick asked if the stories he had heard were true?  Of course, he had to explain what stories.  Oh, your getting pantsed last week, Mr. Malcolm.

Scott quickly added with a smile: And getting wedgied in your tightie-whities.

The horrors of the past week immediately filled my mind.

It started on the very first Monday.  The younger boys had started to get too rambunctious and I got caught up in the turmoil when I tried to calm them down.  I guess it wasn’t the best idea to wear sweet pants without the waist tie tight because suddenly there was a breeze on my thighs as my sweats had been yanked down to my ankles.  Before I could even yell HEY! it was clear that the group found it hilarious.  The teacher was pantsed and his tighty-whites were exposed.  That’s what little boys wear so why was I wearing them was the immediate question.

Because my wife likes them. I responded but that did not impress them.  They did not yet understand that pleasing one’s girl was a good thing.

I missed the warning signs and forgot to keep a grip on my briefs during this interrogation.  One of the other boys took advantage and grabbed the back waistband of my briefs and yanked up hard – very hard!  The wedgie hurt, of course, and I gave a yell which they found funny – the nasty little sadists.

You’re hurting him.  Better stop. said another kid.  My sigh of relief was premature because the wedgie giver immediately did a complete reversal pulling my briefs down to join my sweat pants at my ankles.  There was lots of laughter.

This lead to further humiliation for me as I have a small penis.  Boys starting puberty are very aware of genital size.  Big and hairy are taken as synonymous to manliness.  Very quickly there were comments about how undersized I was.  Things were made even worse because my wife likes me hairless.  Explanations about size not being a measure of manliness and the wife’s preferences did not get me any succor.  I never got to point out about the normal distribution curve that for every oversized one there is an undersized one and they don’t show up in porn.

The comments were crude and hurtful and went on for a while.  I was glad to escape when it was bedtime.

Nonsense! I said hoping to stop the discussion.  That was a mistake.  A very big mistake!  I soon learnt that three of the boys in this session had younger brothers in the previous session.  The three big brothers had compared their kid brothers’ stories and the total concurrence convinced them that they were true.  I was surrounded by a wolf pack of testosterone driven adolescent boys on the hunt.  There was not any place to run and hide.

I tried to tell them to review the class work or to play their video game or to surf the web but I barely opened my mouth when I was pantsed once again.

Several proclaimed that it exposed my first lie – that I didn’t wear tighty-whities. Not much of a bulge for a twenty-five-year-old. one of them shouted.

Before I could react, another yanked my t-w’s down.  Now I was fully exposed and they all saw that I was small and hairless.  The stories they hard heard were obviously true.

My wife likes me in tightie, er, briefs and smooth.  It’s good to please one’s woman. I tried to explain.  They did not care.

YOU LIED!  That is very naughty. Nick declared firmly and they all agreed.

The punishment is a SPANKING. added Scott.  There was not any lack of agreement, alas.  My opinion was of zero import.

I got pushed to the half wall in the common room where we were and a couple of the big guys grabbed my arms and forced me to bend over.  Between being pushed from behind, hobbled by my pants and being held bent over I was helpless with my ass completely exposed.  Remember these are almost fully grown young men and not little kids.  They had muscles and mass and even the potency of numbers.

They started to work out who would get to spank me when the Eagle Eyed one said, to my horror, He has been spanked recently!  See how his butt is still a bit red.  I did not tell them that my wife always gives me a maintenance paddling whenever I go away to remind me to behave properly.

Immediately following that, a hard hand propelled by strong, enthusiastic teen muscles connected with my bottom.  Even though I was used to being spanked, it was still a painful SPANK and I reacted.  If not for the guys holding me in place I would have jumped up.  The appreciative crowd cheered and the second spank landed on the other cheek with identical results.  He kept at it for at least a dozen on each side.  It was very painful.

I thought it was over when I heard: That enough. but my relief was premature.  Another one began whacking me with a flip-flop.  What this second spanker lacked in muscle power of the first was more than made up by far greater efficiency of the rubbery mini-paddle he was wielding.  Soon I was in serious discomfort.

That was your dozen. said someone and the whacking stopped much to my relief.  That relief was short lived, however, as that someone added:  It’s my turn, now.

It was most definitely NOT music to my ears when I heard the all too familiar snap of a belt folded in half and pulled taut.  My bottom was already sore and now it was going to get strapped also.  Please, ... I started to beg but was cut off as the belt connected with my already blazing hot tail with a loud and painful whack.  I could not control myself and I yelped.

Be silent, WIMP!  This is what my father uses on me and he’s a lot stronger than I!  Then the belt struck again and again with me making a lot of noise and then sobbing by the time he stopped.  I was let up.  I was rubbing my ass.

They ordered me to go to bed, like I was a naughty little boy, and I was sure glad to be able to pull up my pants and run off.  Need I tell you that I slept, restlessly, prone.  The kids were very quiet and I don’t know when they went to bed.

I was awakened by the kids in the morning pounding on my door.  Get up lazy bones.  Don’t be late. they chanted.  I rushed to shower and all.  I saw several that looked much more manly than I but there was not any teasing.

The second day was starting and my butt still hurt and was still red from the previous evening’s punishment spankings.

The late start caused me problems.  I had to rush breakfast because I was late getting there and managed to spill my coffee on both my shirt and pants.  That, in turn, required me rush back to the dorm to change which took some time.  Then rushing back out, I managed to forget my papers and had to return to get them.  It was bad timing since one elevator had been pulled out of service and the other was slow.  I was almost ten minutes late for class.  I was treated to a sea of smiling eager faces when I got there.  I wished that I had been that bright-eyed and bushy tailed.

The day went well.  The kids treated me with respect due an instructor without the vaguest hint that they had stripped and punished me with a public spanking the previous evening.  It was, except for the still uncomfortable and red butt I had as if it never happened.

It was when everyone was back in the dorm after dinner that things changed drastically.  I was in my room with the door open so I could hear if things got out of hand and respond as needed.  That did not happen but I was invited to come to the common area so they could ask some questions about the project.

There were a few questions and then things changed.  We have decided that your being late to class this morning is unacceptable.  We are all punished when we are late like that.  You have earned a SPANKING, Sir.

Chuck spoke: I have been selected to deal with you for this lateness.  I shall do it as my mother deals with me – with this hairbrush.  He then sat on the couch and patted his lap.

You can’t do this. I protested but I was told I had best cooperate or I’ll get it for noncooperation also.  I was trapped.  I dropped my sweat pants and got over Chuck’s lap.

NO!  Tightie-whites down also, young man. I raised myself up and lowered my t-w’s.

THAT BRUSH IS HARD.  Chuck whacked hard.  It hurt a lot and I yelled.  I was spanked to tears once again.  Don’t be late again, boy. he said, And off to bed now.

And that is how the week went.  By day I was the respected instructor and in the evening the naughty little brother.  I was very, very careful the rest of the week.

Saturday morning I was surprised that I escaped being spanked by the half dozen kids that had to stay over.  I felt good about that.  Unfortunately that good feeling was soon lost in the showers.

Everyone was in the shower together.  (I no longer had anything to hide.)  We were drying off when Mr. Eagle Eye made the comment.  Your butt is not red this morning, Mr. Maclom.

I’m glad about that, boys. I said.

But that is not good.  You came with a red butt and so you should leave with one.  You surely would not want to go to the lost property office next week and ask if any turned one in.

That wouldn’t happen. I said getting a little nervous.

We can help you, Sir.  Now just bend over like a good boy and we’ll give you a nice red butt like you came with.  I hesitated and he continued.  If you don’t cooperate, that would be naughty and you do know what happens to naughty boys.

I was trapped.  They had me bend over and lean on a sink.  Then each of them gave me ten hand spanks.  They were not baby nor hard spanks but playful spanks.

They all agreed that my rosy butt looked much better.

The wife was pretty amused that evening and was delighted that they looked after me so well.

The End

© Copyright A.I.L.  July 23, 2017

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