K.Birk Art Appreciation & Illustrated Short Stories Thread

[scubasteve42]

Comprehensive thread for praise, appreciation and posting of “approved by artist” short stories, all based on the artworks of KBirk, KBirk1951.

I plan to edit this first post with direct links for the shorts if/when it goes beyond the first page. Posting only short stories requested or approved by the artist KBirk.

Thank you! -Scuba

---------- Post added at 05:02 AM ---------- Previous post was at 04:53 AM ----------

Illustrated Short Story based on Art from K.Birk.

Based on this artwork: https://animeotk.com/gallery/showphoto.php?photo=87706

Where Comfort Meets Convenience: Motel Road Trip


"Mommy, are we there yet?" Jimmy's high-pitched voice echoed through the car, interrupting the static-filled radio.

"Jimmy, I've told you a hundred times, we're almost there!" His mother, Betty, clenched the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white. The Chevy Bel Air's engine hummed along the desolate highway, the sun beating down on its shiny red exterior.

The motel, a beacon of neon in the distance, grew closer. Jimmy's curiosity was finally piqued by the thought of the pool, its blue water glimmering invitingly. "Can I go swimming after we settle in?" Betty sighed, her knowing eyes never leaving the road. "We'll see, Jimmy. First, we need to get cleaned up and have some dinner."

Once they had unloaded the luggage from the trunk and entered their room, the tension grew palpable. Finally out of the heat and dressing down a bit. Jimmy's father, Bill, set the suitcases by the bed while his mother took him aside, a stern look etched on her face. She bent down, her fabric rustling, to whisper something in his ear. Firmly scolding quietly.

"But Mommy, I didn't mean to be bad," he protested not whispering, his voice trembling.

"You know the rules, Jimmy," she said firmly, pulling a wooden hairbrush from her suitcase. "You've been a naughty boy on this trip so far, and now it's time for your spanking."

Jimmy's eyes widened in fear as she led him to the bed in the corner of the room. His heart raced as she instructed him to stand between her legs and she unbuckled his belt. She pulled down his shorts and underwear, roughly bending him over one knee. Securing his arm and securing his legs (clamped and immoblized). The cool motel air brushed against his bare skin, heightening his anticipation of the punishment to come. With a firm grip on the hairbrush, Betty began to spank his little bottom. The sound echoed through the room, a sharp staccato punctuating the silence. Jimmy's cheeks burned with each smack, the pain shooting through his body and making his eyes water.

"Mommy! Ow!" he yelped, squirming to escape the relentless smacking. "You've been naughty all day, interrupting us, not listening, and making a mess," Betty scolded, her voice stern but calm. "This is what happens when you don't behave." Bill, who had been quietly watching from the sidelines, stepped in to offer his support. "Your mother's right, Jimmy. You need to learn to behave on trips like these."

The spanking continued, each smack more painful than the last. Jimmy's bottom was now a deep shade of red, and the smacking sounds grew louder with each hit. Despite his protests, Betty didn't let up, ensuring he felt the full brunt of her maternal disappointment.

Finally, with a last firm smack, it was over. Jimmy's bottom was hot and sore, and he knew sitting in the car the next day would be a painful reminder of his misbehavior. His mother helped him pull up his clothes, her touch gentle despite the firmness of her earlier scolding.

"Remember this feeling, Jimmy," she said, her voice softening. "Next time, think before you act." The little boy nodded, tears streaming down his cheeks, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, feeling the warmth of her. Betty hugged him back tightly, whispering words of comfort. "I love you, but you must learn to listen and behave." Bill, who had been quietly unpacking the prepared dinner, called them over to the small table. "Let's eat," he said, his voice carrying a hint of finality to the situation.

Jimmy took his seat, his bottom still stinging. He knew better than to ask for dessert; tonight, his spanking was the only thing sweet he'd be getting. As they ate, the family talked about the next day's adventure, the promise of fun and the unspoken understanding that good behavior would be expected. Jimmy vowed to himself to be the best boy he could be, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he'd be allowed to play in the pool before bed.

[scubasteve42]

Illustrated Short Story based on Art from K.Birk.

Based on this artwork: https://animeotk.com/gallery/showpho...tommy/cat/1076

Colorized Version by Tua : https://animeotk.com/gallery/showpho...tommy/cat/1076

Mrs.Irwing & Tommy : Pull over at the Picnic Grounds

Mrs. Irwing's grip on the steering wheel tightened as she bit her tongue. She thought of the purse-sized hairbrush in her bag with a shiver down her spine. It was a tool she had become all too familiar with recently, thanks to Mrs. Tanner's enlightening advice. Tommy's behavior had been pushing the boundaries of what she considered acceptable, and she knew she had to act firmly. All day Tommy has been disobeying. As she drove the gleaming blue Studerbaker Hawk through the quiet neighborhood streets, she felt a growing resolve to nip his tantrums of today in the bud. Tommy grew restless again, kicking the bottom of the seat. “Tommy, I WILL pull this car over!” she warned, her voice echoing in the cabin. Bratty Tommy didn’t take her words seriously, continuing his fussy behavior, his now squeaky voice piercing the air with demands.

The picnic area emerged from the tree-lined horizon, a quaint throwback to simpler times. With a deep breath, Mrs. Irwing swung the car into the parking lot and slammed the gearshift into park. Tommy's eyes went wide as saucers when she turned to face him, the stern look on her face unmistakable. “Get out of the car, young man,” she instructed, her voice firm and unwavering. Tommy’s legs remained glued to the seat, his eyes welling with tears as he begged, “Mommy, no! I'll be good!” But Mrs. Irwing had had enough. She unbuckled her seatbelt and opened her door with a swift click and a dramatic sigh, Mrs. Irwing stepped out of the car, her full skirt swaying gently. She walked around to the passenger side, her heels clicking on the stones. Tommy had unbuckled himself and was trying to scurry away, but she was too quick for him. She scolded. "You know the rules, young man," she said, her voice stern. “How many times did I warn you??” Mrs.Irwing inquired maternally.

The spring air rushed in as Tommy, sensing the seriousness of the situation, began to protest with more vigor. His cheeks flushed as he squirmed in his seat, his eyes searching for an escape from the inevitable. Mrs. Irwing reached in, her hand wrapping around Tommy's wrist with surprising strength. “I've told you enough times today, Tommy. You're going to learn to listen and behave!” She pulled him out of the car and onto the patchy grass, his short legs stumbling to keep up with her determined stride. The other Mommies in the park cast furtive glances, whispering to each other as they observed the unfolding scene. Speaking with their own tykes. Tommy's face burned with embarrassment, his knees threatening to buckle beneath him as his mother's grip tightened. It was a very short walk from blue Studebaker Hawk the to the nearby bench, but it felt very long for knowing Tommy. Oh, if he had only listened!!

With a firm hand, Mrs. Irwing sat down on the bench, her plump bottom squeaking against the dry wood. She tugged Tommy closer, his resistance futile against her newfound resolve. As she quickly unbuckled his shorts. “Bend over my knee, young man. It's time you felt the sting of your consequences!” Tommy's eyes searched hers, behind the cat eyed frames, desperately seeking mercy, but all he found was a steely maternal gaze. He didn’t know not to argue further, his voice a trembling whisper as he pleaded, “I dont want consequences! I dont want consequences!” But Mrs. Irwing had made up her mind, she has little patience for bratty tykes. “Don’t you sass me Tommy!” With a gentle but firm nudge, she positioned him over her knee, tugging down his waistband till his bare bottom was sticking right out. He squirmed and whimpered, his hands trying to cover his exposed bottom. Mommy retrived the small but mighty hairbrush from her pink purse. Remembering what Mrs.Tanner taught her, she held the hairbrush in the air, showing it to Tommy.

Recently, Mrs. Irwing had become quite the disciplinarian since their neighbor, Mrs.Tanner, had shared her own method of keeping her son, Rodney, in line. Tommy’s eyes watered as he knew all too well. Looking back Tommy’s eyes could see the hairbrush raised in Mommy’s hand.

Tommy felt the cold, hard backed brush against his skin before the first smack came down. It was swift and stinging, leaving a bright red mark where it had made contact. He squealed and kicked, his plump cheeks clenching tightly. The brush swished through the air again, and this time, it landed with a crack that echoed through the picnic area. The other two mommies watching from a distance couldn’t help but gawk. Mrs. Irwing’s arm rose and fell in a rhythmic pattern, each smack growing harder and louder than the last. Tommy’s bottom turned a shade of pink that grew deeper and more alarming with every whack. He squirmed and bucked, trying to escape the burning pain, but his mother’s grip was like a vise. The picnic area grew quiet, the birds silenced by the sound of the brush meeting bare flesh and the other . Mrs. Irwing’s face remained calm, a look of determination etched into her features as she continued the spanking. She knew that a lesson had to be taught, and she wasn’t going to let her little man go without learning it. He is spoiled! She paused just to adjust her glasses then continued correcting with the small hairbrush. Oh if only Tommy had listened! He wouldn’t be facing the ‘consequences’!

[scubasteve42]

This story was based on an image crafted by Tua / Iod : https://animeotk.com/gallery/showpho...-suit/cat/1059

KBirk crafted his own version : https://animeotk.com/gallery/showphoto.php?photo=88241


Once upon a time, in a quaint little Ocean Port town during the 1920s, there were two adorable brothers named Russel and Henry. They had the most charming smiles and the cheekiest faces you could ever imagine. Today was a sunny afternoon, and they were playing in the spacious playroom that looked out into the garden, dressed in matching blue and white sailor outfits that their mother had bought especially for them to look like the sailors on Daddy’s Big Ship. The outfits had cute little anchors embroidered on the pockets and made them look like the most adorable little sailors you've ever seen. The boys had been playing with wooden hoops, chasing them around the room and laughing with delight as they rolled and bounced away from them.

Mommy, who was busy in the adjacent room, had called out to them twice to come and put on their shoes, but they were having too much fun. She walked into the playroom, a vision in her standard house mother's attire, cardigan, and skirt that accentuated her voluptuous figure. Her pearls dangled gracefully around her neck, and she had a gentle smile on her face that hinted at the patience she had been extending to her mischievous little angels. But when she saw they had ignored her again, that smile turned into a stern look, and she knew it was time to get serious, the Sea Captain’s Wife, Mrs. Marigold, didn’t tolerate much disobedience.

"Russel, Henry," she said, her voice firm but still filled with a hint of love, "you’ve had two chances to do as I’ve asked. Now, no more games. You need to put on your shoes right this instant." Her brow furrowed, and the pearls around her neck swayed slightly as she spoke.

The boys looked at each other, their eyes wide with a mix of defiance and playfulness. Russel, the older of the two, stomped his sock-covered foot and shouted, "Phooey!" His cheeks were flushed with the excitement of the game, and his blue eyes sparkled with a hint of rebellion. Henry, the younger one, watched his brother with a mix of admiration and then laughed as the wooden hoop bounced off the wall.

Mrs. Marigold's patience had reached its limit. She snapped her fingers, a sharp sound echoing through the playroom, and said, "I've warned you twice, boys. Now, it's time for you to listen." Her gentle smile had morphed into a firm line, and the pearls around her neck seemed to tighten as she spoke. Her eyes wide as she grabbed the chair from the corner, the very chair that both boys had learned to dread—The Spanking Chair.

Russel, the cheeky older brother, realized his mistake and began to protest. "But Mommy, we're just playing!" he whined, trying to wiggle out of her grip. But she was not to be swayed. She had given them TOO many chances. Mrs. Marigold, with a sigh of frustration, sat down on the creaking Spanking Chair, her plump rump causing the sturdy encrusted chair to protest under her weight. She firmly secured him over her knee, his matching blue and white sailor bottoms pulled down enough to expose his bare cheeks. Mommy scolded loudly “Little Sailors that don’t follow command get a hot bottom spanking, and that’s that!”

Her hand was swift and firm as it connected with his tender skin, leaving a rosy handprint that grew redder with each smack. The sound echoed in the room, a sharp "thwack" that seemed to bounce off the wooden walls and fill the space with the unmistakable rhythm of discipline. Henry, the younger brother, had stopped playing and watched with wide eyes, the wooden hoop clutched at his side. He knew that he was next. He stopped and watched tranfixed as Mommy’s hand descended again and again, turning Russel's cheeks a light shade of crimson.

Russel's wiggles and protests grew more frantic, his cries of "ow, ow, Mommy, I'm sorry!" filling the room. Mrs. Marigold's arm didn't falter; she knew that consistency was key when it came to teaching her boys a lesson. Each smack was met with a little jiggle of her plump rump, which was clad in the tight skirt that left no doubt as to the seriousness of the situation. Her pearls swayed in time with the spanking, a stark contrast to the jovial game of moments before. She finially relented, allowing him to stand up, his bottom a blotched shade of red that matched as handprints on his cheeks. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his one hand, the other on his rump sniffling loudly. Mommy turned and beconed Henry over with her finger. “NOW Henry, your turn! Don’t MAKE me ask twice!” she exclaimed, her voice sterner than ever before.

Henry, his eyes wide and his face pale, knew that he couldn't escape what was coming next and resisting only made it worse. He approached the chair with the wooden hoop still in his hand, looking up at his Mommy with a mix of fear and regret. Mrs. Marigold took the hoop from him gently and placed it aside, her gaze never leaving his. She pulled him over her knee, unbuttoned and tugged his sailor shorts down just to enough expose his equally bare bottom. It quivered slightly in anticipation of the sting that was to come as his legs shifted. As Mommy lifted her left knee to prop and hold him in place, Henry was facing the wall, dangling his limbs in mid-air, his small white socks still on his feet. “ Remember THIS Henry when you want to disobey commands again!” she scolded sternly, her voice resonating with the seriousness of the situation, channeling her title as the Sea Captains Wife, the one that had to maintain order in the house. Palm pinkened, she raised her hand and brought it down sharply on the center of his bottom. The sound was loud and clear, a declaration of her displeasure.

The room was filled with Henry's yelps as Mrs. Marigold's hand made contact with his bare skin, painting it a shade of light red that mirrored his brother's. Her hand moved from one cheek to the other, creating a symmetrical pattern of handprints. Henry's cries grew more desperate with each spank, and his legs kicked in an effort to escape the burning sensation that was spreading over his bottom. Mrs. Marigold's pearls danced and jingled with every movement she made, a stark reminder of the power she held in that moment. Her skirt had ridden up slightly, revealing the tops of her knees that had given her the strength to raise two mischievous but lovable boys.