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Subject: {ASSM} St: The Stropping of R. Mark Nelson-Stanton III (t/t, strap, strop, hairbrush, spank, role reversal)
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St: The Stropping of R. Mark Nelson-Stanton III (t/t, strap, strop,
hairbrush, spank, role reversal) 

Summary: The posh teen learns some lessons from the new elevator boy.

_The following story is fiction about discipline and has scenes of spanking
and jo.  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 e-mail:_
YLeeCoyote(at)mail.com

_*Economic note:*  In 1950 the Federal minimum wage in the US was $0.75
although not everyone was covered and my character's wage was probably much
lower._

                               * * * * * * * * * *

It was not a dark and stormy night but it was a hot, muggy night with a
full moon and very busy one at the General Hospital that Saturday, August
11, 1934.  Two lusty boys gave their first screams as doctors held them up
by their ankles and spanked their tiny butts.  But the similarities in
their lives ended that night.  The first, R. Mark Nelson-Stanton III, was
delivered by a high priced obstetrician in the delivery room and then with
his mommy immediately moved to a private hospital room with extra nurses.
The other, Joe Pratt was delivered in the corridor of the emergency room by
a very tired intern who was trying get a history from his homeless mother
who had been brought in by the city police and was still on a gurney.  They
were not moved to the maturity ward for several hours.

Mark and Joe knew nothing about each other and their paths never crossed
until early in 1950, more than fifteen years later.  Mark had attended the
most posh schools while Joe had a poor attendance record at inferior public
schools on the wrong side of the tracks and dropped out of school when he
was fifteen.  They encountered each other in the elevator.  Mark lived in
the penthouse with his parents; Joe was the new elevator boy.

Joe would have been happier working in simple slacks and a T-shirt but the
building required and provided a uniform complete with a hat and tie.  Mark
over the course of a couple weeks, could have posed for every page in the
prep school section of the Brooks Brothers' catalogue.

Joe's vocabulary on the job was very limited.  It was his job to be extra
polite to all the residents but especially to the Stantons as he
transported them to and from their eyrie.  He was also required to mind his
own business, which most certainly did not include their affairs, and never
ever gossip.  However, since the Stantons talked in Joe's domain, he learnt
a lot about them.  Most of it was, to him, useless gossip although he
quickly decided that R. Mark Nelson-Stanton III was a very spoiled brat.
Since stuff about Mrs. Stanton's charity affairs and clubs were of even
less interest than the price of luxuries he was able to keep the neutral
expression wanted all the time.  It was far harder when Mr. and Mrs.
Stanton discussed their son's behavior or spoke to their son.

Joe heard constant threats and warnings about how Mark's allowance would be
cut, his movements restricted and even about returning to spankings.  But
none of that ever seemed to happen because night after night Mark returned
far past his curfew and high when he was not actually drunk.

The turning point came one night when Mark returned late after having had
too much to drink.  He upchucked in the elevator and without any apology
demanded to be taken to his penthouse.  Joe went over the line big time.
"Of course, _SIR_, but I shall report this to the Office which will report
it to your father.  I have heard what he plans to do the next time he hears
of your drunken excesses."  Mark was stunned and Joe continued.  "Something
about exile to a strict military school in a remote part of western West
Virginia, I beleive."  He paused, "That's after the long hard stropping."

Joe took the elevator down to the cellar and pointed to the janitor's sink,
mop and bucket.  "You _do_ want to clean _your_ mess up, don't you."  Mark
was stunned.  "You fill the bucket half way, add some cleaner and ammonia.,
wet the mop and mop up your puke.  Then you wring it out and repeat until
clean.  Finally, you rinse it and put the stuff back."

"But..." stammered the brat.

"Or I'll report this." snapped the elevator boy.

Mark went for the mop and stuff.   Under Joe's constant barrage of orders,
the job was done.  "Satisfied?" he asked.

"Not quite, Marky boy, not quite.  You still need that stropping that your
father generously promised you.  Give me your belt, drop your pants and
underpants and assume the position.  I'm sure that you had lots of practice
at those posh schools you went to."

"You can't do that."

"It's up to you.  Get into position immediately or I'll make that report.
Your father will certainly not be at all pleased."

R. Mark Nelson-Stanton III pulled his heavy belt from his pants and handed
it to Joe Pratt.  Then he lowered his pants and underwear and bent over.
Joe was smiling, perhaps even grinning, as he took the belt to the spoiled
brats' butt ten times.  Joe put his all into it making each stroke as hard
as he could.  The naughty brat yelled for each stroke although no one
except the two almost sixteen-year-olds heard those yells.  Joe was pleased
at how the red stripes had formed and as he returned to the ground floor
imagined that Mark was checking himself out in the mirror.

                               * * * * * * * * * *

It was before eight in the morning when Mr. Stanton woke his son.  "Your
buddy's father telephoned about your disgusting behavior last night and
that he sent you home.  You're going to get that stropping promised, right
now."  He picked up his son's belt from the dresser and yanked back the
blankets.  He also pulled his son's briefs down and then starred at the
belt marks from just a few hours before.  "HOW DID YOU GET THESE MARKS?" he
demanded.

Mark was too foggy to say anything but the truth.  "Joe stropped me,
Father, after I puked in the elevator last night."

"And a right good job he did, boy.  We'll speak of this tonight.  Don't go
out."

Joe was most surprised when Mr. Stanton spoke with him as he took him to
the street.  "Thank you for stropping my most naughty son.  You saved me
the trouble and he more than deserved it.  Don't hesitate to do it again if
he comes in late or drunk."

Joe was most appreciative of the five dollars Mr. Stanton gave him.  "Yes,
Sir."  Joe said.  He knew that it was not necessary to say more and
certainly not to add that it would be his pleasure.

As Mr. Stanton left Joe hoped that the next time he would get to strop Mark
would be very soon.  The stuck-up, spoiled brat surely needed more.

                               * * * * * * * * * *

It was only three nights later, and Joe had barely started his shift when
the annunciator indicated the penthouse.  It was an unusual time, but he
responded immediately.  Mark was there, but not dressed to go out.  He was
holding a razor strop and looking very sheepish.  "Father said I am to ask
you to strop me for being insolent, Sir."

Joe was surprised but delighted.  "Of course, Sir.  If you wish to wait
until the hour, things will be quieter and we won't be interrupted with
other calls for the elevator.  Whatever you say, Sir."  Mark quickly
decided to wait rather than risk an interruption in the process which would
not be pleasant and leave him exposed longer.  "I'll expect your summons
then, Sir."

At the appointed time, Mark rang for the elevator.  When Joe opened the
door, he said: "How may I help you, Sir?  It's too late to go out."

Mark gulped for he did not want to give the embarrassing reply that was
necessary.  "Please strop me for being insolent to my father."

"Certainly, Sir.  Step in please." responded Joe.  Although Joe was more
interested in doing the stropping, rather than hearing the embarrassing
request for it, it was still nice.  Mark was surprised to see that Joe led
him to the employees' lounge.  He left the door open so that he could hear
the call buzzer in the elevator.  "Please drop 'em and bend over the arm of
the couch, Sir."  Although it seemed to be a kind offer, the well-paddled
arm would keep Mark from tempering the force of the strop by moving
forward.  Joe took the strop and the insolent brat dropped his pants and
briefs and laid down on the couch arm.

Joe found the proper position and delivered the first stroke.  Mark's yell
was much louder than when he had reacted to the belt.  He even jumped up
and grabbed his tail.  Joe felt good and just barked: "POSITION!"  Joe saw
how there was now a wide red stripe across Mark's butt and realized that
the razor strop carried a more potent sting than the belt.  He gave Mark
another five strokes but a bit less forcefully although each solicited a
yell. "I'll be right back to take to you up.  I have a call." said Joe
hearing the call buzzer.

It was Mr. Stanton returning from a very late meeting.  "Has Mark seen you
tonight, Joe?"

"Yes, Sir.  I just left him downstairs to pull up his pants when you rang.
Do wish to go to him or upstairs, Sir?  I think that he is a most repentant
boy."

"Downstairs, please Joe."  As they rode down Joe got another bill and
thanked Mr. Stanton.  Mark was not so happy to see his father at that
moment and Joe carefully kept his eyes on the shaft way for the long ride
to the penthouse level.  "Into my study, boy." commanded Mr. Stanton as the
two got off.  Joe could only speculate on what their discussion was about.
He immediately returned to the cellar to tend to a most pressing need of
his own.

                              * * * * * * * * * *


It was normally Joe's day off but the other operator was sick and Joe got
the overtime.  At three AM he was surprised when Mark came in.  Mark was
also surprised for he did not expect Joe to be on duty.  As they entered
the elevator, Joe asked: "Do you have special permission to be out past
your curfew, Sir?"  Mark knew better than to lie and shook his head.  Joe
took the elevator to the cellar and led Mark to the lounge again.

"You are acting like a little boy, Mark." he lectured as he undressed the
errant youth.  He recalled how much he hated it when his mother did that
even when he was just eight years old.  "Surely you know better than to
stay out this late."  Joe undressed Mark -- item by item and stacked them
on the couch.  Finally, Mark was naked while the lowly elevator boy was
still in his uniform.  Joe removed his own jacket and fetched the old
wooden hairbrush from his locker.  He placed Mark's shirt across his lap to
protect his uniform trousers before pulling the chagrined lad across his
lap.  He did not warn Mark what he was using but just gave him a hard spank
with the implement of choice of many frustrated parents.  WHACK!  Mark
yelped having expected only a hand spank rather than this miniature paddle.
Thirty whacks later Mark was crying.  He was behaving just like a little
boy after a proper spanking.

Joe picked up his clothes and led the naked lad into the elevator.  At the
penthouse, he found Mark's latchkey and opened the door.  Joe handed Mark
his clothes and pushed the crying lad inside and returned to his duties
although he took quick break to relive the tension.

When Mr. Stanton left for work in the morning, Joe reported that he had to
spank Mark once again for staying out late.  He got the usual tip and thank
you.  That night Mark got called to his father's den once again for a
discussion he did not want.

Joe was most happy with the special benefits provided by the Stantons.  Of
course, the extra cash was really welcome, but spanking the stuck up,
spoiled brat who was his age was really a delight.

                              * * * * * * * * * *

It was a Friday evening and Joe was on duty.  When he responded to the
penthouse call, there were Mr. and Mrs. Stanton and their son waiting.  On
the way down, Joe was not surprised to hear Mark talk back to his parents
but was shocked that he was both insolent and vulgar when he was admonished
to remember to follow the rules -- not to drink and to be home before his
curfew.

Approaching the ground floor, Joe wished the adults a good evening as he
opened the door but said to Mark: "Your stop next, young Sir." and quickly
started to close the door to prevent Mark from exiting with his parents.
Mr. Stanton turned and smiled as the door closed so that both boys could
see it.

Joe took the car back to the penthouse and once inside directed Mark to
strip and return with the strop.  Mark did as he was ordered.  After being
told that his insolence and vulgarity in the elevator were most
unacceptable he then bent over the arm of a large chair in the ample
entrance way.

Mark's yell from the first stroke was just fading when the elevator call
buzzer sounded.  Joe had to leave him to serve the other resident.  When he
returned, the first stripe from the strop was most evident.  He managed to
do two more before the next call.  It was a busy time of the day.

Now halfway, Mark's butt was already glowing brightly to rival the setting
sun.  Joe appreciated the interruptions since he could see better how
Mark's tail responded and changed color.  Mark, on the other hand, did not
appreciate the delays.  The fourth and five strokes were delivered to the
usual yelps but Joe again had to respond to an elevator call.

Mark had to wait more then five minutes for Joe to return for the sixth
stoke.  Joe could not help but to admire his handy work in painting Mark's
bottom bright red.  As he took position for the sixth stroke, Joe was
overwhelmed by his own need.  He delivered the sixth stroke and Mark
yelled.  This stropping was not really harder but spreading them out
apparently made Mark more vocal.  

Mark's howls and his bright red rump excited Joe a great deal.  Although he
did not conscientiously think about it, he was aroused more than usual just
like the alpha male of a baboon troop is by the bright red rears of the
ready to mate females.  It only took him seconds to open his uniform pants
and allow his hard rod to pop free.  Mark was still bent over and Joe
quickly jerked his shaft splattering the stropped boy's hot bottom with his
hot jizz.  He quickly rubbed his man cream all over the posh boy's rump
before he restored his uniform and left Mark to recover by himself.  He was
glad that he came quickly before another call from the elevator.  When he
checked an hour later, the door to the penthouse was closed.

It was almost the end of his shift when Mr. and Mrs. Stanton returned.  He
was able to report that Mark had decided not to go out that evening at all.
Joe felt very good as he made his way home with the extra bill in his
pocket and having dominated the spoiled brat in a new way.  This job was
more lucrative than he had expected and a lot more fun too. 

The End

(C)(c)  Copyright A.I.L. September 1, 2009

Y.

Valid return address is <YLeeCoyote (at) mail.com>
(Posting address is for the spammers)

See my stories at /~YLeeCoyote/
See Goldilocks stories at http://www.geocities.com/goldilocks1938/

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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