Hot Seat Ranch

By Jere Haken

When nineteen-year-old Brian gets shipped off to Hot Seat Ranch for the summer to learn about "hard work and discipline," he's more than a little concerned about what that might entail. With a leather punishment strap in every cabin and a strict counselor with permission to use it, will he be able to survive the summer unspanked? Will he want to?

Warning: This erotic gay short story is a 9.5k word spank fest featuring group showering, food fights, and five guys to a cabin. It has M/m bare bottom spanking, whipping with a strap, a hard bath brush paddling, and horny cowboys in training. To be enjoyed by adults only!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jere Haken
• Release date: Sep 7, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301038459

Jere Haken

Jere Haken is a lifelong spanking enthusiast who enjoys stories about bright red bottoms on men and women alike. If the word "spanking" gives you that special tingle, you'll definitely want to check out stories by this author!

Book preview

Hot Seat Ranch

Jere Haken

Copyright 2012 Jere Haken

Smashwords Edition

"You know what your problem is, Brian? You're lazy. All you want to do is lie around all day with that… that friend of yours."

I smirked, enjoying Bill's discomfort. He might have considered himself king of the roost, but when it came to sex talk, his prudishness meant I always had the upper hand.

"Boyfriend, I supplied helpfully. The word you're looking for is boyfriend."

He murmured indistinctly and gave my mother a look, a look that begged for her to come to his rescue. A look that said, Do something about your incorrigible son, won't you?

I knew she would do no such thing. My mother always loved me best.

So, are we done? I asked, keeping my voice disinterested and bored. "I was just on my way over to see Clint, my new boyfriend."

No, we are damn well not done! Bill sputtered. And you'd better watch your tone with me, or I'll…

You'll what? I challenged. Send me away to military school? You missed the boat on that one, Bill. Years ago.

You may be nineteen, he said, but you still live in my house, under my authority, and it's high time you finally learned to obey your elders.

I snorted. Bill was only forty years old, but he sometimes talked like a man pushing ninety.

Tell him, Marie, he said.

I paused, not liking the sound of that.

Tell me what? I asked.

My mother glanced nervously from me, to her husband, and then back to me. She handed me a letter, smiling apologetically.

It'll be good for you, honey, she said. You'll see.

My eyes quickly scanned the contents of the page. They made it to the end of the correspondence without my brain fully comprehending the words. I read it again more slowly, feeling the rage boil up inside me as I realized that the text welcomed me to the Hot Seat Ranch and Summer Retreat.

Montana! I shouted. You can't send me to fucking Montana!

Only for the summer, dear, my mother said placatingly. It'll be fun.

Bill laughed unpleasantly, the wicked gleam in his eye implying that it most certainly would not be fun.

I won't go! I said. You can't make me go!

Bill stood and crossed his arms over his ample chest. I had to admit, when he wanted to be—when he was more action and less bluster—my stepfather was an intimidating man.

You'll go, he said in a low, threatening voice, "and you'll do your three months there, or you can pack every last bit of your crap right now and get the hell out of my house. Maybe your… friend… will take you in."

I should have stood up to him. I should have