Ralphie's Trip to Stacy*s


by Y. Lee Coyote (Click for Author's Home Page)<YLeeCoyote@mail.com>

Just a brief word to thank Jim for running the archive these many years -- thanks!  To wrap up, here a short story about a boy who is really growing up.  Again I invite you to visit my web site (the link is above and at the end).

The end of the year is the time for fantasy stories.  Here is mine about a boy who almost a youth.  This story is fiction and deals with spanking.  If such a subject is 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.


Ralphie was worried.  He had been standing in the line at Stacy*s for more than an hour to see the big fat man with the white beard wearing the red suit to tell him what he wanted for the holiday.  It was hard to concentrate because of the noise.  All the kids chattering and discussing what they should ask for; just like they had been doing for weeks.  Everyone knew that one shouldn't ask for too much, but how much was too much?  Slowly the line crept forward; one kid at a time.  Ralphie knew he could not ask for what he really wanted.

Ralphie was wondering if he was getting too old for this.  He was now ten and knew the truth.  But his little brother, Donnie, was only seven and still truly believed.  Their father had explained he must keep the secret until his brother grew up.  Ralphie was proud of himself for understanding for he remembered how good it was to believe in the tooth fairy, Jack Frost and all the rest.

He watched as the elves threw little Donnie up on the magic lap for the discussion.  He got terrible images in his head at this -- those images that he was given to teach the kids to stay away from strangers.  Gosh, Donnie or he could just as easily be thrown into a box and shipped into slavery.

Then it was his turn.  He was distracted not even noticing that Donnie had been discarded like all the kids before him by being dropped on the slide.  The elves had to struggle with his heavier body.

"Ho, ho, ho.  What's your name, young man?"  It was then that Ralphie realized that it was suddenly so very quiet.  He looked at the busy selling floor and it was still; absolutely still.  The people, even the kids, were frozen like the manikins.  The question was repeated.

"Ralph." he stammered after a pause.  What was wrong with him?  He had never had trouble in the previous five years doing this.

"Well, Ralphie, have you been a good boy this year?"  The question was expected.  Everyone knows that there are two lists -- naughty and nice.  They corresponded to great gifts and lumps of coal.  The proper answer was obvious; it was even silly to ask the question.  However, an objective observer would put Ralphie into the first class.  He was a good boy.  Sure, he did get into trouble a little but he was really a good boy -- honest, good grades, not a bully.

It was a very strange feeling that over took him.  He turned away from the inquisitor and did something he rarely did: he lied.  Very softly he said it: "No."  Suddenly he felt bad for he had lied but what was said was said.  And now that was said, it became the truth.

Then there was another question.  "What happens to naughty boys?"

A large hand turned his face so that there was eye contact for the first time.  Ralphie knew the answer to that one.  "They get spanked, sir."  He did know why he said that.  He had never been spanked in his entire life (except maybe when he was born).

"Yes, indeed, young man.  And how do they get spanked?"

"On the bare bottom, sir."   Well that is the way all the old books told about it.  Even when they talked of the boys who ran away to sea and got held over a cannon to be strapped.

The man lifted him up and stood him up.  Then he opened Ralphie's belt and his pants which fell to the floor exposing his briefs.  The briefs that he wanted to discard but which his mother said had lots of wear left.  The briefs with the cartoon characters.  Then he no longer worried about that for the man slipped those down past his knees.  His everything -- both everythings -- back and front -- were now exposed.  But the world did not come to an end as he was pulled over the man's lap.

There was a great hand holding him in place.  There was another great hand patting his most exposed bottom.  "Yes, naughty boys; naughty boys like you get spanked; get spanked hard on their bare bottoms."

Then it started.  The big hand left his bare bottom and quickly returned.  It returned by crashing down hard on the helpless bottom with a loud SPANK.  Ralphie was startled more by that noise than the pain at first.  Then after the big hand, attached to the big man had raised and crashed down on his little bottom time after time did Ralphie really react to the pain.  The pain became intense.  Ralphie was learning that spankings hurt; they hurt a lot more than tripping and falling; a lot more than fighting with another boy.  There was one thing that Ralphie could do and he was soon crying.  The tears flowed and the snot ran.

Then the spanks stopped.  They stopped as suddenly as they began.  Just as he had been pulled over the man's lap, he was standing once again.  His briefs were pulled up; his pants pulled up and zipped; his belt buckled.  The man took Ralphie's handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the tears from his face and told him to blow.

He was tossed onto the ramp.  The store noises resumed.  Donnie was still getting up.  A couple of minutes later they were watching the clowns until their parents returned.  No one seem to notice that he had been spanked.  Strangely, his bottom was not hurting very much nor were his eyes red.

On the way home, their parents asked what they had asked for.  Donnie recited his long list.  "Just something nice." Ralphie said for his list was now empty.

A few hours later, the boys were in bed.  Ralphie was prone.  His bottom was hurting just like it had when the man had pulled up his pants.  It was a good hurt though.  He wished that his father would spank him rather than grounding him.

But for the rest of his life, Ralphie would wonder if he really been spanked by the big fat man with the white beard wearing the red suit at Stacy*s Department store.

The End

© Copyright A.I.L., December 25, 2004

Your comments are appreciated.

Click on my name above (left) to go to my web site at http://www.asstr.org/~YLeeCoyote/ and on the e-mail (right) above to send e-mail to YLeeCoyote@mail.com


More stories by Y. Lee Coyote