425 lines
25 KiB
Plaintext
425 lines
25 KiB
Plaintext
THE SHOPLIFTER
|
|
By Christopher Bottoms
|
|
|
|
The two boys worked hard and fast to unlock the bicycle. Their
|
|
fervent efforts betrayed their apparent innocence. It was
|
|
impossible to ignore the well worn, poorly concealed plastic bag the
|
|
smaller boy had stuffed into the front of his shorts. He attempted
|
|
to conceal it with his tank top, but succeeded only in accentuating
|
|
the well rounded buns which filled his print shorts. His ruse
|
|
produced a modicum of success. A disturbed looking man with a tie,
|
|
apparently the store manager, emerged from the store, looked quickly
|
|
about, and re-entered the store, disgusted. With both boys bending
|
|
forward, there was nothing to see but two teenage moons--no faces;
|
|
no merchandise.
|
|
|
|
The second boy was about a year older than the first, maybe 15.
|
|
Like his friend, he was clad in print shorts and a tank top. Bent
|
|
over working on the lock, it was easy to see that his derriere was
|
|
delineated by a jockstrap worn in lieu of briefs or boxers. Both
|
|
boys had close cropped hair, with the ends lightened either by the
|
|
sun or weak peroxide. They seemed upset that the lock wasn't
|
|
opening.
|
|
|
|
The smaller boy leaped to his feet when a firm hand grasped his
|
|
shoulder. The bag fell to the asphalt as he stood up. As the bag
|
|
fell, the bicycle lock clicked open. His friend, unaware of what
|
|
was happening, triumphantly announced the opening of the lock.
|
|
Still preoccupied removing the chain, he suggested the obvious
|
|
course of action. "Let's haul ass." An unfamiliar voice boomed,
|
|
"Yes. Haul it into my office." As the older boy stood up, a
|
|
horrified look consumed his countenance. The store manager and a
|
|
younger clerk, perhaps 19, towered over the terrified duo.
|
|
Silently, the manager motioned to the bag. The clerk picked it up
|
|
as ordered. The manager grabbed each boy by the nape of the neck,
|
|
escorting them through the store. He stopped momentarily at a
|
|
windowless door, extracted a huge ring of keys from his left pocket,
|
|
and opened the door. The smaller boy was rubbing his sunburned neck
|
|
where the manager had grabbed him. His friend stood motionless,
|
|
trying unsuccessfully to suppress tears.
|
|
|
|
The door was held open, and the clerk, the two boys, and finally the
|
|
manager entered. It was a large room, littered with cardboard
|
|
boxes, old display racks, and hangers. In one corner was a
|
|
makeshift office with a large desk, a few old chairs, and a file
|
|
cabinet. The walls of the office corner were surrounded by college
|
|
memorobilia, apparently belonging to the manager. Photos of several
|
|
athletic teams, a college pennant, and the manager's degree of phys
|
|
ed adorned the wall behind the desk. A college calendar was on the
|
|
wall perpendicular to it, along with a fraternity paddle hanging
|
|
from a nail. The paddle bore three greek letters, and quite a few
|
|
signatures. It seemed in keeping with the decor of the office, and
|
|
was not noticed by the two young boys.
|
|
|
|
The clerk took the bag confiscated from the boys, and handed it to
|
|
the manager. The manager noted the presence of a competitors logo,
|
|
remarking "This bag didn't come from our store." He removed a pair
|
|
of black bicycle shorts adorned with a red stripe, and checked the
|
|
price tag. "But these shorts came from our store," he continued.
|
|
"I don't suppose you have a receipt?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
2
|
|
|
|
The older boy was shaking, and a tear streamed down his face. The
|
|
smaller boy remained stoic. He was in control, he boasted to
|
|
himself. He'd done this before. In fact, he got an apology from
|
|
the manager of one store! He spoke with arrogant confidence.
|
|
"Those shorts were a birthday present I brought to exchange, but you
|
|
didn't have my size." The manager glanced at the clerk. "Did he
|
|
have those shorts when he came in the store?" The clerk shook his
|
|
head, indicating a negative response. "I don't know what he thought
|
|
he saw or didn't see," said the smaller boy, "but I brought those
|
|
shorts into the store. Your clerk musn't have noticed the bag when
|
|
we came in."
|
|
|
|
"I see," said the manager. "When is your birthday, and what size
|
|
shorts do you wear?" The boy became flustered. "Uh, my birthday
|
|
was, uh, last week. Yeh. Last Tuesday." "Let's see," said the
|
|
manager. "Your birthday was the 10th?" "Yes, the 10th," replied
|
|
the boy, apparently relieved. "But the 10th was Thursday," said the
|
|
manager. "Which is it?" "Uh, Tuesday," muttered the boy, trying to
|
|
think fast. He knew he was being had. "And what size shorts do you
|
|
wear?" The boy was turning red. His friend was still sobbing.
|
|
Realizing this was his last chance to talk himself out of the
|
|
situation, he knew the size he gave better not be the size of the
|
|
black shorts. "I wear a boy's size 16," he said. The manager
|
|
glanced at the shorts, noting a size 14. "What size are the short's
|
|
you're wearing now?" asked the manager. "I said I wore a size 16,"
|
|
replied the boy, again with arrogance in his inflection. The
|
|
manager turned to the clerk, "Check!" he ordered.
|
|
|
|
The clerk sheepishly approached the smaller boy, who bolted for the
|
|
door. It was locked. "Hey! You perverts aren't going to get my
|
|
pants off!" "We're just going to check the size on thew waistband,"
|
|
said the manager. "Or would you rather the police check? They'll
|
|
strip search you. Is that what you prefer?" The smaller boy stood
|
|
still, helpless, as the clerk folded the elastic band just enough to
|
|
see the incriminating tag. "14," said the clerk.
|
|
|
|
The manager stood, placing both hands on his desk. The larger boy
|
|
couldn't take it any longer. "Tell him you took them!" he
|
|
bellowed. "It's no use. Let's get this over with. Tell him you
|
|
took them!" "Well," said the manager, "at least your friend has a
|
|
conscience. Normally, the first time, we call your parents and
|
|
leave you with a warning. The second time we call the police."
|
|
|
|
"Now look what you've done!" howled the older boy. "He's going to
|
|
call our parents. You know what that means. We're gonna get
|
|
whipped." The smaller boy knew this was true. Last year the boys
|
|
cut school, and when he got home his father was waiting, strap in
|
|
hand. He'll never forget that day. His dad never said a word other
|
|
than "march" as they headed for the basement, and "drop 'em" as he
|
|
approached the sawhorse. He took 50 licks with that belt, and the
|
|
welts lasted the better part of two weeks. Everyone in gym class
|
|
knew what happened, compounding his humiliation. His friend
|
|
suffered a similar fate with his mother and the paddle. His parents
|
|
were divorced, and his mother was a strict disciplinarian. She
|
|
didn't take him to the basement or use a strap, but she sure gave
|
|
him something to remember when she ordered him to drop his pants,
|
|
get across her lap, and laid into his tail with her "board of
|
|
education." He took a pillow to school the next day.
|
|
|
|
|
|
3
|
|
|
|
The voice of the manager broke the recollection. "I'm going to call
|
|
your parents and let you go," he said, pointing to the older boy.
|
|
"At least you didn't lie to me. You were a part of this and deserve
|
|
to be punished," he continued, "but your friend is a thief and a
|
|
liar. I'm going to call the police and have him arrested." Both
|
|
boys were terror stricken. "Well," bellowed the manager, "what's
|
|
your parent's phone number?" He was looking at the older boy.
|
|
"Please sir, don't have my friend arrested. He'll never do this
|
|
again." "I'm sure he won't," said the manager. "He'll be strip
|
|
searched, fingerprinted, and sent to Juvenile Hall until his father
|
|
comes for him. And I can tell you what would happen if a boy of
|
|
mine got arrested. He'd be grounded for a year, lose his bicycle,
|
|
and no TV. And he sure wouldn't be doing much sitting down,
|
|
either!"
|
|
|
|
The smaller boy was no longer sullen. "Please, sir," he told the
|
|
manager. "I'll pay for the shorts." "That's not the point," said
|
|
the manager. You stole, you lied. And you think now that you're
|
|
caught, you can buy your way out. You don't deserve a break. You
|
|
deserve a visit to Juvenile Hall and a damn good whipping."
|
|
|
|
At this point, the clerk spoke up. "Sir, I know this is none of my
|
|
business, but maybe we could handle this here." The manager shook
|
|
his head. "No. We'll let the big one go with a warning and a call
|
|
to his folks, but the small one, I suspect, has stolen before."
|
|
"But sir," continued the clerk, "a police record would just make
|
|
things worse. With a record, he won't be able to get a job, and
|
|
without a job, he'll steal more. What he needs is a good lesson,
|
|
not a trip to jail." "We can't let these things go," said the
|
|
manager. "Do you know how many millions of dollars are lost through
|
|
shoplifting? What do you propose we do?"
|
|
|
|
"Well," said the clerk, "remember last year when I was late to work
|
|
three days in a row?" "Sure do," replied the manager. "I called
|
|
you in to fire you." "That's right," said the clerk, "but you
|
|
didn't. You taught me a lesson, and I've never been late again.
|
|
And I'm your top salesman. I never forgot what you taught me, and
|
|
now I'm one of your best employees."
|
|
|
|
The manager shook his head, sat down, and massaged his jowls. "OK
|
|
boys. Listen up, because this is a one time offer. "How old are
|
|
you?" he asked the taller boy. "Fifteen, sir." "And you?" he asked
|
|
the smaller one. "Fourteen." "You have a choice," said the manager
|
|
to the older boy. "Since you told the truth and were just an
|
|
accessory, I will either call your parents, or you can take a
|
|
paddling right here. You'll get fifteen hard licks. But if you
|
|
take them without resisting, I won't call anyone and this incident
|
|
will be forgotton."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you, sir," replied the boy. "Well which will it be, boy.
|
|
You call it." The boy didn't have to think. His mom would ground
|
|
him, take away his bike, and give him at least 50 licks with her
|
|
paddle. "I'll let you handle it, sir." "Handle what, boy? I'm not
|
|
a mind reader, and I'm losing my patience." "I'll take the paddling
|
|
from you, sir," said the boy sheepishly.
|
|
|
|
|
|
4
|
|
|
|
The manager got up, and took the fraternity paddle from its peg.
|
|
It was the geniuine article, made of laminated hardwood, and a good
|
|
3/8 inch thick. The older boy was nervous, but no longer crying.
|
|
He could see light at the end of the tunnel. His mother will never
|
|
know. A couple quick stings and it will be all over. The manager
|
|
motioned toward his desk with the paddle. "Now you're to take this
|
|
paddling like man. No moving around. No resistance. No reaching
|
|
back with your hand. Understand?" The boy nodded silently and
|
|
slowly approached the desk. He waited with anticipation. "What are
|
|
you waiting for, boy? Is this your first spanking? Bend over that
|
|
desk! Get to it!" The boy had always been spanked over his
|
|
mother's lap. This was new to him, but he said nothing and assumed
|
|
the position as ordered.
|
|
|
|
His bottom was a tempting target. He was growing out of those print
|
|
shorts, and his jockstrap perfectly outlined the area of interest.
|
|
It was obvious to all that those thin shorts were his only
|
|
protection. The manager seemed enthusiastic about the task at hand,
|
|
and took a few aiming swings, reminiscent of Casey at the bat.
|
|
Then, when least expected, wood bit bottom with a report that
|
|
sounded like a pistol shot. SSMMMAAAAAACCKKK! The boy quivered as
|
|
the clerk reached to hold down his wrists and whispered, "Just hold
|
|
still and take it. In five minutes it will be all over. Hang in
|
|
there." The manager was oblivious to the conversation, and
|
|
delivered the second lick with the same fervor. SSMMMAAAACCCKKK!
|
|
The report resonated through the room. The next three were
|
|
delivered in rapid succession. WWWHHHAAAACK!!! WWWHHHAAAACK!
|
|
WWWHHHAAAACK!
|
|
|
|
The pain in the boy's bottom was mounting. This hurt more than 20
|
|
licks with mom's "board of education." But he remembered the
|
|
promise of the clerk that it would be over in five minutes. "I can
|
|
take anything for five minutes," he assurred himself silently. "Ten
|
|
more to go." SSSSMMMMAAACCKK! SSSSMMMAAAACCCKK! SSSMMMAAACCCCKK!
|
|
Three more in rapid succession. Instead of just a lancinating
|
|
sting, his ass was starting to burn, and he could feel tiny blisters
|
|
forming on his smooth, hairless skin. He wondered if they were
|
|
visible through his thin shorts.
|
|
|
|
There was a brief interruption in the bursts of pain. "Hmm,"
|
|
thought the boy. "Is he taking a break?" He mentally congratulated
|
|
himself making it past the halfway point. His ass never burned like
|
|
this before, but it would be over soon. "I don't want to have to do
|
|
this again," said the manager. "No, sir," said the boy. "I want
|
|
you to remember this when your friends try to get you to go along
|
|
with something you know is wrong." At that, he suddenly pulled down
|
|
the boy's shorts. The boy wasn't expecting this, and tried to get
|
|
up. The clerk squeezed his wrists and whispered, "Don't move.
|
|
Don't piss him off. He could still call the cops, and you'll have
|
|
taken a beating for nothing."
|
|
|
|
|
|
5
|
|
|
|
Strange sensations danced around the boy's bun cheeks. There was a
|
|
deep throbbing, a superficial burning, and the feeling of the tiny
|
|
blisters forming. These sensations were all mediated by the cool
|
|
breeze of the nearby air conditioning vent. The smaller boy was
|
|
horrified by the appearance of his friend's beaten ass, but realized
|
|
that it was far better than the strapping he got from his dad. The
|
|
smaller boy assumed the same punishment would befall him, and was
|
|
both frightened and relieved. Any licking was better than Juvenile
|
|
Hall!
|
|
|
|
Suddenly the silence was again broken by the sharp report of the
|
|
paddle. Undampened by the shorts, the sound increased in both pitch
|
|
and intensity. SSSSMMMMAAAACCCKK! SSSSMMMMAAAACCCCKKK!
|
|
SSSSMMMAACCCKKK! The pain was now shooting through his derriere
|
|
into his crotch. SSSSMMMMAAAAACCCKK! SSSMMMMAACCCKK!
|
|
SSSMMMAAACCCKK! The boy never knew anything could hurt this much.
|
|
But there was only one more to go. What was the manager waiting
|
|
for? Finally it came. The manager put his body into the final blow-
|
|
-he wanted it to count. WWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHAAAAAAACCCCCKKKKK! The
|
|
boy jumped up, uncontrollably. The clerk had released his hands.
|
|
Noticing a slight erection, the boy quickly pulled up his shorts.
|
|
Not realizing the extent of the tenderness of his bottom, he gasped
|
|
and winced as the shorts were replaced. The redness could be seen
|
|
through the shorts, as well as the little round blister spots. The
|
|
boy was prancing back and forth, massaging his tush in a futile
|
|
effort to minimize the pain.
|
|
|
|
"Now get out of here," bellowed the manager. "And don't come back
|
|
to this store." "BBBut, what about..." he asked, motioning to his
|
|
friend. "You'd better stay away from him--he's trouble. Now get
|
|
out before I change my mind and call the cops!" The clerk unlocked
|
|
the door, let the spanked boy out, and re-locked the door. The
|
|
manager, sweating, wiped his brow with a kleenex, and laid the
|
|
paddle on his desk.
|
|
|
|
The smaller boy knew he was next, and silently got into position,
|
|
bent over the desk. He knew the position well. "This isn't so
|
|
bad," he thought. "Fifteen swats and it's over. And I'm used to
|
|
the strap. The paddle will be easy to take." "From your position,
|
|
you obviously think that I'm going to offer you the same deal," said
|
|
the manager. "Well, I'm not." "Please, sir," pleaded the boy in an
|
|
uncharacteristically submissive tone, "please don't call the cops."
|
|
|
|
"Tell you what, boy. If you take a paddling from me, I won't call
|
|
the cops, but I will call your parents." "BBBuuttt..." bellowed the
|
|
boy in protest, "he'll beat me, too." "You're a bright kid,"
|
|
replied the manager. It's 11 AM now, and I'll have your backside
|
|
finished by 11:30. By the time your dad gets home from work, it
|
|
should be just about ready for the second round. Take it or leave
|
|
it, kid. Your folks or the cops."
|
|
|
|
|
|
6
|
|
|
|
The boy resumed his position, silently accepting the deal. He knew
|
|
he'd be taking his meals standing up, and sleeping on his stomach.
|
|
But what about school? "How old are you, fourteen?" asked the
|
|
manager. "Yes, sir," replied the boy. "Good," he thought. "Maybe
|
|
I'll just get 14 licks. And my shorts are thicker. And I'm wearing
|
|
briefs." His stream of consciousness was diverted by the impact of
|
|
the paddle on his globes. TTTHHHHWWWWAAACCCK! EGAD! That hurt!
|
|
He thought the paddle would be a piece of cake. TTTHHHHWWWAAAACCCK!
|
|
The second lick took him by surprise. SSSMMMAAACCCKK!
|
|
SSSMMMAAACCCK! SSSMMMMAAAAACCCKKK! "Hmm," thought the boy. "He's
|
|
pretty methodical. First two, then sets of three. I wonder how
|
|
many boys he does this to, the old pervert." WWWWHHHAAACCCKKK!
|
|
WWWWHHHHHAAACCCKKK! "That's seven," he thought. The pause meant
|
|
his shorts would soon be coming down. The manager pulled them down
|
|
as predicted, revealing his pastel blue briefs. The manager then
|
|
yanked them down remarking, "white shorts, blue briefs, and a red
|
|
ass. How patriotic!" The boy was enraged and humiliated, but
|
|
didn't dare move.
|
|
|
|
SSSMMMMAAAACCCKKK! SSSMMMMMAAAACCCKKK! SSSMMMMAAAACCCKK! Whew!
|
|
The pain was becoming unbearable. WWWHHHAAACCK! WWWHHHAAACCCCK!
|
|
WWWWHHHAAAACCKK! A brief pause. Then the fourteenth firecracker.
|
|
WWWWWWHWHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAACCCCCCCKKKK! The boy grabbed his briefs,
|
|
and slowly raised them over his beet red cheeks. His bottom was
|
|
red, but there were no blisters or marks. The strap had toughened
|
|
his hide.
|
|
|
|
"What are you doing?" asked the manager. "Pulling up my pants,"
|
|
replied the boy. "That was fourteen." "You're right," said the
|
|
manager. "That was fourteen. But you're not through, boy. That
|
|
fourteen was for stealing those shorts. The next fourteen will be
|
|
for lying. And the last fourteen will be for getting your friend in
|
|
trouble. So get those shorts back down, get over that desk, and
|
|
stick your ass out, boy. We're gonna see some tears before I let
|
|
you out of here. And if you fight it, I'll call the cops and you'll
|
|
have taken the licking for nothing."
|
|
|
|
The boy was nervous, but exposed his crimson derriere as ordered.
|
|
Curiously, the paddle was still on the desk. Unknown to the boy,
|
|
the manager was removing his belt. "You've got a pretty tough
|
|
backside, kid. Most boys are marked or blistered by now. So the
|
|
next fourteen will be with the belt." "Shit!" thought the boy. But
|
|
it can't be worse than the 50 from his dad with the strap. "I can
|
|
take it," he thought.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
7
|
|
|
|
CCCRRRAAACCCK! The strap smacked mercilessly against his red tail,
|
|
wielded by a strong, angry man. The manager's adrenalin was kicking
|
|
in. CCCRRRAAAACCCCKKK! CCCCRRRAAAACCCCKKK! CCCRRRRAAAACCCKKK!
|
|
CCCRRRAAACCCKKK! CCCCRRRRAAAACCCCKKK! Five in a row! His ass was
|
|
on fire...it felt like a bad sunburn. Light welts criscrossed the
|
|
red background. Thin white lines separated the welts from the red
|
|
substrate. SSNNNAAAPP! SSSNNNAAAPP! SSSNNNAAAPPP! SSSNNNAAAP!
|
|
SSSSNNNAAAAPPP! The manager had changed his technique, doubling the
|
|
belt and moving closer. The boy felt the pain shooting into his
|
|
groin and thighs. SSSNNNAAAPP! SSSNNNAAAAPPP! SSSNNNAAAAPPP!
|
|
Whew! The second set was over. 2/3 through. Downhill from here!
|
|
|
|
The manager put his belt back on, while the boy stood up for a brief
|
|
break. The manager turned to his clerk. "Someday you might be
|
|
manager of this store," he said. "You give him the last 14." The
|
|
clerk was shocked. "BBBuutt..." he stammered. "I know at least one
|
|
pants down licking you've taken. Just give what you've received."
|
|
"Do you want me to paddle him with this?" asked the clerk, pointing
|
|
to the paddle. "Nope," replied the manager. This one thinks he's
|
|
tough. Let's bring him down a peg or two. If he acts like a
|
|
spoiled child, he needs an old fashioned over-the knee spanking.
|
|
|
|
The clerk took his boss' lead. Now he was getting into it! The boy
|
|
was shattered. Suddenly, he wasn't so tough. He was about to be
|
|
spanked like a little boy, over the knee of a total stranger barely
|
|
older than he. The clerk sat down on a straight backed chair.
|
|
"Over my knee!" he ordered. The boy complied. The clerk jerked him
|
|
upright. "Drop 'em" he ordered. Oh no! But there was no choice.
|
|
He dropped his shorts and briefs, positioning himself over the
|
|
clerk's lap. His well whipped bum was still tomato red, and criss-
|
|
crossed with faint welts.
|
|
|
|
SLAP! SLAP! The first two swats excited new nerves. Bursts of
|
|
energy shot through that teenage bottom, right into his crotch. He
|
|
was getting hard. The clerk tried to reposition the boy, rubbing
|
|
his semi-erect organ across his pants. The clerk was getting hard,
|
|
too. SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! With each sharp slap, the boy recoiled,
|
|
rubbing his cock against the clerk's cock. His cock was rock hard.
|
|
SPANK! SPANK! The boy was getting dizzy, and felt as though he was
|
|
floating. He moaned with each spank. SSSPPPAAAANNKKK!
|
|
SSSPPPAAANNKK! The clerk spanked harder, as the boy started sliding
|
|
beck and forth across his lap. Both were in another world. The
|
|
clerk was overtaken by a newfound strength. The boy was weeping and
|
|
moaning. With all his might, the clerk delivered the last five
|
|
swats in rapid succession, his hand perfectly conforming to the
|
|
boy's curvacious cheeks. SSPPPAAANNKKK! SSSSPPPAAANNNNKKK!
|
|
SSSSPPPPAAAANNNKKK! SSSSPPPAAANNNKKK! SSSSPPPAAAANNNKKK! The boy
|
|
and the clerk both moaned as the fourteenth swat fell.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
8
|
|
|
|
The boy carefully replaced his briefs and shorts, sobbing tears of
|
|
pain and ecstacy, trying to conceal the pool of come on the clerk's
|
|
lap. The clerk crossed his ankle over his thigh to keep the manager
|
|
from seeing the come.
|
|
|
|
Yes, the manager called the boy's father, even after all that. But
|
|
the boy's emotions were not equipped to deal anything other than
|
|
present time consciousness. He left the store in a dream state, and
|
|
upon leaving, his friend was waiting with their shared bicycle. The
|
|
older boy had regained his composure, and was perplexed by the
|
|
change in his friend. Gone was the arrogant wise guy. In his stead
|
|
was a sensitive free spirit. "Are you OK?" the boy asked his
|
|
friend. "Uh, yes." "Guess you really got it. You were in there
|
|
for almost a half hour." "Yes, we both had it coming," remarked the
|
|
smaller boy. His friend was taken aback by this atypical remark,
|
|
and let it pass.
|
|
|
|
"Did they call your parents?" asked the older boy. "Yes," replied
|
|
his friend. "Guess that means the strap tonight, huh?" "Guess it
|
|
does. But my dad won't be home for four hours. Wanna go down by
|
|
the beach and mess around for a while?" "Uh, OK" replied the older
|
|
boy, still perplexed by his friend's metamorphosis. How could he be
|
|
so calm, knowing he would get another licking that night?
|
|
|
|
So, they rode to the beach, standing up, until it was time to go
|
|
home. And when the older boy got home, his mother was waiting with
|
|
the "board of education." Apparently the other boy's father called
|
|
her and told all. And when the smaller boy got home, his father was
|
|
waiting with the strap. The boy was ready to take his medicine.
|