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From: See@Signature.line (Y. Lee Coyote)
Subject: Story: Career Day -- Revisited  (Mixed/M, nc, teen, spank, public, paddle, strap)
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Story: Career Day -- Revisited  (Mixed/M, nc, teen, spank, public, paddle,
strap)

Back on 2/13/98 Kent Stoneking posted a 5 part story called "Career Day" on
s.s.s.  In response to my complaint of discrimination via e-mail that only
females were spanked and there ought to be a Second Career Day he said:
"Excellent suggestion, but somewhere, in the back of my mind, I'd know I was
writing a -/M scene.  However, if you or one of the other newsgroup members
wants to take a crack at it, you have my blessing."  

The following story is fiction; just a fantasy.  It contains various
combinations, including teen and public spankings.  If this subject is
offensive or uninteresting to you or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please
stop reading 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 -- both pro
and con, including constructive criticism, suggestions and where you saw this.
Please E-mail to: YLeeCoyote@Juno.com


Career Day -- Revisited
by
Y. Lee Coyote 


Preamble
Ms. Cox had been very pleased by the results of the first 'Career Day'.  She
carefully reviewed the chastisement records for her class and found that there
had been a sharp and permanent drop in the need for public classroom spankings.
Last year she had not been previously able to convince principal Whitherspoon
that it was a worthwhile thing to do.  This year she had real proof that it
was.  Evidence in hand she went to Whitherspoon's office.  A few minutes later
she emerged -- triumphant -- with the mission of lining up the speakers.


Part 1
It was _The_Second_Career_Day_ and Ms. Cox was very excited.  So excited that
she atypically needed to respond to a call of nature during the first period.
She appointed the class president as monitor and rushed down the hall to tend
to business.  Less than five minutes later she was shocked as she re-entered
her class room.  Peter Jones and Mark Smith, both members of the varsity
football team were toe-to-toe and nose-to- nose in a loud argument that was
turning physical.  The rest of the class was watching in awe and not doing the
assignment she had left them.  She immediately parked Peter and Mark in the two
front corners of the room and the entire class got a lecture about tending to
business.  According to her usual practice, Pete and Mark were going to get
their big fannies reddened in front of the class.  Twenty-seven of the
twenty-nine teenagers in that class were anxiously awaiting that four big bun
event.  Pete and Mark were the two exceptions.

The hormone laced students were immediately experiencing reaction in their
crotches observing the two hunks with their noses stuck in their respective
corners.  Of course, the two them had their jeans at half mast and were
exhibiting their big buns wrapped in their no-so-white briefs while standing in
the corners.  Ms. Cox had her own problem.  Each of these miscreants was much
bigger (physically) than she was; each of them was over two meters and 100
kilos.  She knew that her ruler was not going to have much of an effect on
these two particularly if she wielded it herself.  They routinely hit each
other harder in fun and certainly on the football field, then she could
possibly do with her 149 cm and 43 kilos.  As she dug deep into the bottom of
her desk for the implement she wanted, a recent gift from a former student, two
of the three Career Day guests arrived.  Each of them vividly recalled
classmate filled corners.  It was immediately apparent that Ms. Cox had not
changed.

After minimal introductions, she told the guests that there were a couple of
small problems that needed to be resolved before they started.  Since the
guests were both personally acquainted with the particular customs that
prevailed in Ms. Cox's domain they knew what was in store.  Both of them
wondered how the physically petit lady was going to make an impression on the
two huge adolescent boys who were each built like the proverbial brick
outhouse.

Peter and Mark were summoned from their respective corners and told that they
were going to get their fannies reddened *before* the guests spoke to prevent
the distraction of them standing in the corner.  The two hunks smiled as they
thought of the light ruler usually wielded by the tiny lady (as they thought of
her).  Those two smiles faded as Ms. Cox held up the heavy oak fraternity
paddle.  However, on twenty seven other teen faces smiles broadened.  "Boys"
she explained, "you will each get 10 hard strokes with this paddle.  You will
alternate hitting each other.  Light strokes will not count but you will still
alternate.  If you both have weak strokes, then you each get an extra."

"Ms. Cox, perhaps we should do this tomorrow when we don't have visitors."
suggested Peter hopefully.

"Of course, we can.  If you prefer Mr. McForrest can take care of the matter in
the assembly tomorrow." stated Ms. Cox sweetly.  McForrest was the no nonsense,
former Marine DI and the boys' sports coach.  His paddling were legendary; not
for their rarity but for their severity.

Mark turned pale at the thought and politely said: "Now will be just fine, Ms.
Cox."  

Let us get this over with promptly.  Now both of you drop your briefs and Peter
you bend over the desk."  said Ms. Cox as she handed the paddle to Mark.  The
titters that rippled through the class were not just from the girls.  Many of
the boys did not like these two for their bullying and arrogant ways.  It would
be a delight to see them paddle each other's bare asses particularly in front
of the girls.  The girls were likewise delighted that these two chauvinist pigs
were going to get it.  And they would learn the truth about what kind of horses
they were.  Well, that's the way they boasted they were hung.  The truth would
soon be revealed to all as the two boys would have to alternate between profile
and posterior views for the class.  And, of course, the finale: an anterior
view for the wrap up apology.  Throughout the room crotches swelled and
dampened at the anticipation in both boys and girls alike.

After a pause, Pete faced the desk, pulled his briefs down and bent over so as
to present his ass for the class' inspection and the paddle now in the hand of
his buddy.  'What must be must be' mussed Mark silently as he pulled down his
own briefs and stood in position to paddle his teammate.  He was very
embarrassed and his genitals were not only flaccid but shrunken.  Many of the
girls thought that except for the hair he looked like their little brothers;
very little brothers.  Mark raised the paddle and stuck Pete's raised and
waiting butt with a soft whack.  "Class, does that count?" Ms. Cox
sarcastically asked.

There was a resounding "NO WAY, MS. COX!" from the class.  Even the other jocks
in the class wanted this to be real so that they could see if they could take
it.  Who wants pussy sissies for teammates?  Pete took the paddle and
positioned himself with it.  His 'equipment' was not in any better shape than
Mark's.  He raised and swung the paddle.  And, again, the class decreed: "NO
WAY, MS. COX!"

"That will be 11 boys.  Let's get this over with."  This time Mark brought the
paddle down on Pete with a resounding WHACK and Pete let out a yelp.

"Right on!" yelled someone in the class.  Pete took the paddle.  He was mad.
The blow had HURT.  He wanted to get even.  All that mattered was getting even.
He swung the paddle as hard as he could.  This brought the hoped for yell from
Mark.  The two immediately forgot their audience for the nonce and also the
reason for being in this situation.  They were now in combat -- the object of
this completion was to hurt; to make the other yield to the pain -- to win!
But that could not happen.  Now primitive biology was taking over.  As they
fought, hormones and endorphins filled their bodies.  The rough stimulation of
their butts caused each of them to get an erection.  It was evident to all that
they were like small pygmy horses and average humans.

As soon as they each had the 11 prescribed strokes, Ms. Cox said "Stop.  Now is
the time for your apologies."  The two, still in the own private war zone,
turned to face the class.

Before they could speak, some smartass called out from the back of the room:
"Who are you pointing at?"  They suddenly realized they were standing in front
of the whole class -- including the girls -- and were the only ones with hard
and exposed cocks.  They quickly put their hands in front of their crotches but
it was too late; everyone had seen them.  "HANDS AT YOUR SIDES, BOYS" snapped
Ms. Cox.  They each quickly mumbled a vague apology.  They also blushed all
over so that their faces were as red as their bottoms.

Ms. Cox then said: "Pull up your pants and return to your seats.  We have
guests to listen to."  Pete and Mark quickly pulled up their briefs and jeans.
They could not hide how their erections caused their jeans to tent.  They were
so happy to be out of the limelight that they did not care how much it hurt to
sit on the wooden desk seats.  They would hurt a great deal in the next few
days when the endorphins were gone.

This was not a class that anyone would soon forget.  By the end of lunch every
one in the school would have had heard the story.  

The guests had a very hard act to follow.


Part 2
Ms. Cox introduced the first speaker-guest.  Ms. Tanner had graduated a few
years earlier and was the office manager for her family's business.  First she
recalled how both she and her brother had endured the standard treatment
offered by Ms. Cox's ruler and how their father had liked the idea.  He liked
the idea so very much that it was now part of the family business.  Spankings
were even described in the company's Employee Handbook.

Ms. Tanner was soon talking about George.  He had been hired as an office boy
last summer right after he graduated high school.  He needed to earn some money
so that he could go to college.  It was just his third day when he got his
first on-the-job- spanking.  He was due at 0730, so that the first mail could
be delivered before the office opened at 0830.  He was two and half hours late
because he had gone out with his friends the night before.  (They did not have
to work.)

Before the morning was over George was in Ms. Tanner's office being told that
this was not acceptable behavior.  His irresponsible behavior impacted on the
efficiency of others and thus on the whole company.  It was the old story of
'for the want of a nail the horse was lost ... the kingdom was lost'.  George
was given a choice: discharge (he was still on probation) or a spanking.
Hobson had more choices he thought as he reluctantly agreed to the spanking.
Ms. Tanner led him to the employee lunch room.  As it was now 1215 the room was
crowded.  At one end of the room was a raised platform with a simple chair.
She sat down on it with George standing next to her.  As if by magic, a hush
fell over the room and all eyes turned to watch.

Ms. Tanner opened George's belt and slacks.  Then she pulled them down to below
his knees.  This was just like his parents had done when he was a little boy.
Although he was not a little boy any more; it was happening to him just the
same as if he was; in fact it was worse for he was in a room full of strangers.
He did not realize that most of those watching had gone through this before him
and presumably many others would do so after him.  He was most acutely aware
that he was very embarrassed.  When Ms. Tanner put her thumb into the waistband
of his briefs he squealed: "No. Please don't." and instantly was blushing all
over.  She did not listen to his plea and two seconds later she lowered his
briefs.  Ms. Tanner noticed that he had a heart shaped birthmark just above his
pubes.  A gentle tug and he fell over her lap with one bit of relief -- his
privates were no longer on public display.  It was questionable that this was
an improvement as her hand came crashing down on his upturned naked butt.
*SMACK*  A red hand print was immediately evident upon the struck buns.  George
was astounded at the intensity of the blows continuously striking his
increasingly painful and crimson buns.

After what seemed to be an eternity she stopped.  Another couple of minutes and
George would have been in tears.  She stood him up and put him into the corner.
She lifted the tail of his shirt and tucked it into his collar.  "You are to
stand here in the corner until 1245.  That will be the second time the bell
sounds."  George knew that the bell rang every fifteen minutes so that he would
be exposed at least that long.  He was truly regretting his irresponsible
behavior last night.  He wondered how he would be able to face his coworkers
when he made his rounds in the afternoon.  On the other hand, he was grateful
for not having been being fired.

When the bell rung the second time he quickly pulled up his pants and dashed
for the lavatory.  There he adjusted his clothes in the privacy of a stall and
washed up.  That afternoon, he was constantly blushing thinking that everyone
was talking about his hot, red buns.  The actual truth was the only ones who
did were doing so for sexual reasons.  George's buns were very, very cute; sexy
cute; particularly when rosy red.

It was a month later and George was now scheduled for a late shift -- 1100 to
2000.  One morning when he reported for work his supervisor told him to go
directly to the main office.  Mr. Higgans reminded him of his own father -- the
same image of a mature proper gentleman.  "George," the man asked "did you use
the copier last evening?"

"Yes, sir; there were several copying jobs that took about an hour."

"I mean for anything personal, very personal, young man?"

"Sir?"  George said innocently.  He had indeed had done something very personal
copying.  In the almost deserted office, he had lowered his trousers and
briefs, and 'copied' his equipment.  He even had gotten hard and did it again.
He was sure that he had taken all the copies.

George one of the secretaries almost fainted when she was sorting the copies
she had just made.  That was because she found this."  He took out a sheet of
paper from an envelope and handed it to George.  "Do you recognize that
birthmark?"

There was no point denying it.  The evidence was as unique as if he had signed
the picture of his hardon.  "Yes, Sir.  It was an accident, I thought that I
had taken all the copies.  I certainly did want to offend anyone."

"I'm sure that you did want to do that, lad, but you did.  Of course, if you
hadn't been making copies in the first place it never would have happened.  And
making personal copies is strictly against the company rules and is technically
*stealing*."  

"Yes, Sir.  I won't do it again."

"Do you remember what the Employee's Handbook says?"

"Not exactly, Sir."

"Well, look at it when you get back to the mail room and then meet me in the
lunch room at 1220."

At the appointed time George approached the waiting Mr. Higgins on the raised
platform.  He got the order immediately: "Please, drop your pants and underwear
to your knees and lean over the chair, George."

The young man did as he was told and Mr. Higgins raised his arm and swiftly
brought it back down.  This caused the 65 x 8 cm heavy leather strap in his
hand to come crashing down on the waiting target.  There was the expected
*SPLAT* as the strap connected with the defenseless buns, and then a red strip
appeared marking where the contact had been made.  And finally, George
whispered: "One, sir."

This was repeated until George said: "Ten, sir."  Then he was permitted to
raise his pants and return to work.  That was a few years ago and George has
been a diligent worker since then.

Ms. Cox thanked her guest.  The class was too stunned to ask any questions.


Part 3
Michael Roger Kennedy was late.  He was due in Ms. Cox's classroom at 0930 and
it now was 1028 by the school's clock as he dashed up the main stair to the
hall monitor.  The monitor was a little surprised at his appearance.  He had
seen Ms. Cox's other guests and they were all very presentable -- hair combed,
clean and neat business dress, shined shoes and, of course, punctual.  But it
was not his place to correct a visitor so he just did his assignment and
politely directed Michael to the office to get a visitor's pass.  MRK entered
Ms. Cox's classroom just as she was saying: "Class, I was expecting another
former student but he's not here.  So we will continue...."  She stopped in
mid-sentence as the classroom door flew open, smashing loudly into the wall
(another no-no), and MRK dashed in saying:
"Very sorry I [sic] late Ms. Cox.   [sic] Missed the bus."

"Michael, you are a mess; what happened?" she asked, ignoring the bad grammar.

"When I was running across the park, I got caught by the sprinklers, then I
slipped on the wet pavement and fell onto the wet grass.  But it was much too
late to go back to change, Ms. Cox.  I'm very sorry, really."

The class was shocked.  Ms. Cox was very insistent that they be presentable and
punctual.  She had even reddened a few butts for such transgressions.  She
constantly told them that they were 'young ladies and gentlemen and she
expected that they look and act the parts'.  That included that the boys
wearing ties.  It was rumored that she was the one that insisted that the new,
young vice-principal also wear a tie; turtlenecks she said were for turtles.
Dress-down Friday was akin to blasphemy to her.

Ms. Cox went digging in her desk for the second time this morning.  In just
seconds she came up with a class grade book.  As she looked in it, the class
could see that it was dated two years earlier.  "Michael" she said, "I see that
you have not changed your ways.  You used to require a spanking every six weeks
to remind you that you needed to be punctual and presentable.  It seems that
you need another reminder.  Please drop your muddy trousers and lean over the
desk."

The class went into hysterics until the tapping of the feared ruler was heard.
As silence descended, Michael said: "You must be joking, Ms. Cox." 

Ms. Cox snapped at him sharply.  "No back talk, _Young_Man_; NOW!"  It was then
the class realized that Ms. Cox was treating her guest just as if he was still
a student.  Something snapped in the young man and he felt like he was a
student again.  The class watched in awe as he opened his belt, dropped his
trousers and leaned over the desk as ordered by his former school marm.
Meanwhile, Ms. Cox picked up the still warm paddle from her desk and asked
Zachary Zenger to please come forward.  Zak was a large young man and a top
gymnast.  He was also very strong.  She handed him the paddle and directed him
to administer ten hard strokes.

Pleasantly amazed, he said: "Yes, Ms. Cox." accepted the paddle and moved into
position.

Just as he was about to start she held up her hand to indicate that he was to
wait and stepped up behind the unfortunate Mr. Kennedy.  She slipped her index
fingers into the waistband of his boxer shorts and lowered them to the young
man's knees.  A slight nod to the paddle holder and he brought it down on the
target with a definite resounding thud immediately followed by a yell.  A broad
red stripe immediately formed across the target buns.

By the fifth paddle stroke, Michael's bottom was a hot crimson red.  Zak had
managed to use his athletic skills to uniformly attack the unfortunate butt.
Three minutes and an additional five paddle strikes later Michael Roger Kennedy
was standing in the corner, with his hot, red butt exposed to Ms. Cox's still
amazed class.


Part 4
With Michael parked in the corner Ms. Cox then turned to the class and
explained that they would continue with the third guest for the day and
proceeded to introduce him in greater detail than before.  Many in the class
had noticed the dignified bearing the well dressed Mr. Gerard presented.  "Mr.
Gerard of the Gerard Construction Company has promised me a wonderful tale.
I'm sure that you all know of his firm."  Mr. Gerard stepped to the front of
the class and started to speak.

When I got out of college with my shiny engineering degree, I was certain that
I knew everything and the best way to do everything.  My father realized this
and arranged for me to work on a construction site in the next state for a
friend of his.  He explained, somewhat evasively, that starting as the boss'
inexperienced son is not a good thing.

A week later, I was at my first real job not counting being an office boy
during the summers.  I stayed at Tilly's Boarding House where several other out
of state workers stayed.  She set a good table and packed great lunches.  On my
first morning on the job, I was shocked to discover that, first, no one was
interested in _My_Great_Knowledge_ or, for that matter, in my degree and,
second, I was the gofer of choice.  All day long it was: "Gerard, go fer
this."; "Boy, go fer that, pronto." and "Kid help unload that truck."   They
were particularly not interested in my great ideas about how to do their jobs
better.

I got my lesson on that first Wednesday evening at quitting time.  We had
locked up the equipment and most of the guys had left for home.  The first
couple of days, the guys I was riding with were never the last to leave but I
thought nothing of this delay.  Then the guys surrounded me.  There were only
three, but that was plenty.  They explained that I was being a wiseass pest
and, even worse, cutting into their bonuses by slowing down the project.  Then
came the clincher: they were going to punish me -- corporally. The class
snickered.  That's right kids, just like Ms. Cox does when you act up.

Then Tom, the biggest one, said: "Get your butt over here, _now_!"

As you can imagine, I objected and refused.

Then Dick continued: "You can do this the easy way or the hard way, boy."

I started to make for the woods but they grabbed me and tied me, bent over, to
a couple of studs.  Believe me, they were well nailed into place.  One of them
reached under me and opened my jeans while the second pulled them down.  My
jeans were soon followed by my briefs leaving me bare assed and in position.
Then they each took their heavy leather belts and proceeded to strap my ass.
You can believe that hurt.  They were big and strong and mad!  They definitely
got that message across.  I was screaming.  They laughed at that because we
were in the middle of nowhere for this construction job.  They must have given
me some 15 or 20 blows -- each.  They let me scream for a few minutes and then
they untied me.

Again, it was Tom who spoke.  "Shutup and get your sorry ass over here, _boy_,
pronto.

You can bet that I did that.  When I was in front of him he asked: "Ready to
this the easy way yet?"  I nodded and he pulled me over his lap.  He proceeded
to spank me.  Particularly after the strapping, my bottom was no match for his
tough hand attached to a strong arm.  I quickly felt like a naughty small boy
and was soon bawling like one.  Then I got the lecture that I was just a cub
and should watch and learn.

Then Dick and Harry had their turns.  You can bet that I had one very red and
very sore ass that evening.  It hurt through to the next week.  With my jeans
still down Harry picked me up like I was a sack of sand, put me over his
shoulder and sat me down on the sun baked car seat.  The hot seat, particularly
on the bumps did not feel good at all on my hot bottom.  When we got back to
Tilly's, one of them handed me a wet handkerchief and said to wipe my face so
that Tilly wouldn't know they worked with a crybaby.  I kept my mouth shut for
a long time after that and learnt a great deal.

Fifteen years later, I met Tom.  I told him that I hated him for a long time
after that spanking but had gradually understood that it was for my own good.
And that I wanted to thank him for it.  He laughed heartily and then told me
that it was a put up job.  My own father had asked them to do because I was far
too much of a smartass to take into the business.  That summer I learnt a great
deal about the world and how to behave.  Some if it I could have learnt in this
_very_ classroom.  Mr. Gerard looked at the red bottomed young man in the
corner.  As embarrassed as he is I hope that he realizes that there is much to
learn here.

Ms. Cox told Michael to pull up his pants and come meet the last guest.  After
the introduction, Ms. Cox asked Mr. Gerard if he would consider hiring Michael.
He really is a good lad but he needs a little help occasionally.  Mr. Gerard
gave Michael his business card and told him to call in the morning.

Then the lunch period bell rang and the class evaporated.  The lavatories were
more crowded than usual that day.

The End

Comments to: YLeeCoyote@Juno.com

©Copyright by A.I.L.  June 22, 1998  
Y.

Valid return address is <YLeeCoyote@Juno.com>


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