**********this is complete fantasy. All characters are 18+. This will be a collection of five short stories about the young men who live on Gallant Lane. On one specific Friday night they all find themselves getting punished for one thing or another when they get home. Please leave comments.*********
Gallant Lane is generally a quiet street, and this Friday night was no different. Around 4 o'clock people began getting home from work or college classes and some may have been at home all day.
One thing interesting about the street is that many of the people who lived there were very traditional when it came to corporal punishments of their college age sons. Some even got quite creative. It was completely normal on a quiet night to hear some poor college guy letting out quiet sobs as the occasional crack of a belt hitting his asscheeks would echo across the neighborhood.
On this specific night an oddly large amount of young men would find themselves getting punished. This quiet evening was about to get quite upsetting for some of the young men who lived on Gallant Lane.
Part One: Dawson's Dilemma
19-year-old Dawson felt so nervous he thought he would start shitting his pants as he drove home from choir practice. As he got in the car to start driving home from the church he'd seen a text from his Aunt Darla. It was simple, but terrifying. It was a picture of four sealed condoms sitting on the counter with the simple caption, "found these in your sock drawer putting up clothes. Be ready in the living room when I get home."
His aunt had made it very clear a year before when Dawson was eighteen and he'd moved in with her that absolutely no sex was allowed in the house and that she believed in old-fashioned punishments. Dawson had learned what an "old-fashioned punishment" was several months prior when he broke curfew.
Dawson parked his car in the garage and headed inside to meet his fate. His aunt wasn't home yet, but he knew better than to keep her waiting so he went in the living room and took off his shirt and pants leaving him in nothing but his green plaid boxers. He folded his shirt and pants and sat them neatly on the couch.
He took position standing in front of the coffee table with his hands behind his head.
Soon enough, he heard the door open, and his severe looking aunt walked in.
She began by telling him how disappointed she was and wanted to know how many condoms he'd already used since moving into her house. He replied, "three."
She told him by the time she was done with him the last thing on his mind would be doing anything that would require a condom.
"Get those boxers off young man while I prepare the enema."
A tear rolled down Dawson's cheek as he shucked off his boxers leaving the 19-year-old naked, his trimmed bush and uncircumcised dick on display.
He could see his aunt filling both enema bags with warm water and a very liberal supply of soap.
Dawson was soon bent over his aunts legs on the couch while the enema bags were hung off the low ceiling fan.
By the time he was full with the first enema he already felt like he was gonna burst. By the time the last of the second bag trickled in his colon Dawson was begging his aunt for release.
She patted his ass and ordered, "get back up and put your hands behind your head."
Dawson slowly got up, his now distended belly jiggled as he waddled back into position. He stared forward, straining to keep his butthole clenched shut and not take a massive shit right there in the living room floor. He was in so much bowel agony that he didn't even notice his penis full of blood and pointing at attention.
Aunt Darla set the egg timer for ten minutes and sat it on the coffee table. She instructed, "you will stay in position for the next ten minutes then you may use the toilet. If your hands go to your stomach, then the timer gets reset. And don't you dare make a mess in this living room."
Dawson stayed stoic, but waves of agonizing cramps were flying through his large intestine. Aunt Darla could see that every so often his thighs would quiver and his cock would jiggle. His foreskin was rolled back slightly because of his erection and a pearly bead hung on his bright red dick tip.
When the egg timer had three minutes left Dawson let out a loud moan as the most violent cramps exploded through his overfilled gut. "Please..... please Aunt Darla. I can't hold it." He begged. Tears were threatening to fall. He was clenching hard holding in the largest shit of his life.
Aunt Darla simply replied, "I suggest you hold for three more minutes."
With thirty seconds left Dawson felt a beat of water escape out of his starfish and start snaking down the back of his legs.
Finally, the egg timer went off loudly and Aunt Darla pointed to the bathroom saying "off you go."
It was only ten steps, but it felt like the most tortuous to ten steps of Dawson's life. Every step made his colon slosh back and forth and his anus was threatening to relax.
His aunt heard the toilet seat clap down and then the torrent of soapy water exiting her nephew mixed in with multiple loud farts and splats into the toilet. It seemed to take him at least five minutes to fully empty his colon.
As he exited the bathroom sweat poured down from his strawberry blonde hair. Aunt Darla pointed him back to his spot in front of the coffee table. He put his hands back behind his head.
His aunt said, "Dawson, I hope we will not have to do this again."
With a sniffle Dawson replied, "we will not."
She hissed, "good. Because if it does happen again the time increases to twenty minutes. Now you stay in the position until your cousin gets home. He has an issue of his own that we will be dealing with soon."
Part Two: Bo's Buick Bump
At the house next door quite the scene was unfolding in the dining room.
SMACK! "One. My distracted driving gets me a caning." Bo said, reciting the sentence his stepfather had instructed him to say.
The eighteen-year old was naked as a Jay bird and bent over the dining room table. His stepfather swished the cane through the air. "How long have you had that car son?" His stepfather asked.
Bo answered, "two weeks, sir."
SWISH. SMACK! "Eeeewwww. Two. My distracted driving gets me a caning." Bo spluttered. He still had sixteen smacks of the cane left and he already felt tears welling in his eyes. He just hoped his mom wouldn't get home from work while his completely naked body and ass was on display as it got covered in cane marks.
Bo didn't mean to bump the pylon. He was just answering his girlfriends text while he was backing up. The dent was barely noticeable, but his stepfather still noticed it.
His stepfather hissed, "and who bought that car son?"
Bo replied, "you did, sir."
SMACK! "Oooohhhhh my god. Three. My....... My distracted driving gets me a caning."
His stepfather said, "how do you think your ass looks now, Bo?"
Bo felt the first tears fall down his face as he said, "it has cane marks sir."
"you bet your ass it does."