Flash fiction: more stories written in exactly 100 words.
The headmaster once joked to the chairman of Governors that if he had a pound for every stroke of the cane he had whacked across a boy’s stretched backside he would be a very rich man. Without knowing it he had stumbled upon the germ of an idea. The Old Boys Day at St. Francis consisted of the usual speeches and sports, but also (for a decent cash donation) the headmaster would offer a bespoke service in his study for those who wished to rekindle certain memories of their schooldays. In this way, the school acquired its first science building.
(Picture credit: Unknown)
When the juniors from Accounts photocopied their bare bottoms at the Christmas party it was his dream come true for their office manager. “Right,” he slurped, unbuckling his wide, thick leather belt before pointing a finger to the table, “since you insist on displaying yourselves …”
Drink played a large part and Anthony, blushing profusely, was first to drop his trousers to his ankles. He slipped his underpants to his thighs and offered a terrific target. The leather whistled across his pert cheeks and curious co-workers gathered at the sound. Next day they voted it the best office party ever.
(Picture credit: Unknown)
Back in the Sixties Henry was at college and summer holiday jobs were as rare as hens’ teeth. At last, just as his bank manager was about to call in his overdraft and he would have to give up his studies altogether, he found a position as a demonstrator with the Acme Brush Company and was sent door to door around the leafier suburbs of Brocklehurst.
His sales figures were atrocious until he arrived at The Avenue where the good people had found their own use for Acme’s wares and were only too pleased to try them out on Henry.
(Picture credit: C of Sweden)
I stood at the open window wearing nothing but thin cotton underpants, listening for the sound of my father coming up the stairs. Cold air swirled around my bare chest, hardening my nipples.
Without warning the bedroom door opened and he entered, clasping mother’s heavy oval hairbrush in his hairy hand. He cleared his throat to signal that I should prepare myself. He had said everything earlier, now was the time for action. He sat on the bed; I stepped forward, slid my pants down and although nineteen years old, once more submitted myself across his knee for deserved punishment.
(Picture credit: Unknown)
Andy was furious. How come he was driving Jenny and Dave back from the college dance. And they were making so much noise necking. It was obvious they were trying to wind him up. It should be him with a tongue down the back of the throat. His heart raced and his cock burst through the front of his trousers. It was a disgrace; he was deliberately being humiliated. Just wait, he thought, when I get my boyfriend Dave home I’ll give him a bare-assed spanking with our paddle and he won’t be able to sit down for a week.
(Picture credit: First Love Illustrated, 1956)
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Traditional School Discipline
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More stories from Charles Hamilton II are on the MMSA website
Also writing school stories as Scholastic here
Charles Hamilton the Second
Male on male spanking stories 