When He Was Young

[Hrtofdrkns]

Iruka carried him over to a chair and sat down, placing the fox whiskered boy over his lap. "I'm going to give you the spanking you've had coming for a long time!"

[*starfruits*]

The kyuubi-host stared wide-eyed at the paneled flooring sprawled out far beneath him, his vision blurring as fear overtook his sense of reason, before he shot a livid glance over his shoulder, alarm evident in his rich blue eyes in doing so, “Don’t! Don’t you—” the Uzumaki boy could not even bring himself to form the conclusion of his plea, and instead began to roll around futilely in the lap supporting him, “Lemme gooo, dattebayooo!!”

Naruto flailed over his sensei’s sturdy thighs, kicking out his legs, his hands waving around as though he were mimicking the flight of a newly born dragonfly. If a spanking was as bad as that Inuzuka kid said… The fox-whiskered blond wailed out once again, as though he were calling for help, but even the little kyuubi-host was well aware that there was nobody to come to him, even if his cries had been justified.

[Hrtofdrkns]

Iruka grabbed Naruto's flailing hands and pinned them to his back, then drew the boy's orange pants down. He paused for a moment, then pulled his green boxers down to join his pants.

[*starfruits*]

The fox-whiskered blond kicked and wriggled like a lively seal pup over Iruka’s lap, uttering shrill and whimpering protests that grew to outright cries as his naked bottom found its way into the light, and the boy glanced over his shoulder again, in a vain attempt to gain sympathy, forcing himself to speak much as he had witnessed other children in the class when they desired reprieve from a lecture, scolding, or homework, “I’m sorry, Iruka-sensei! I won’t be bad anymore!” the academy rebel beamed up at the auburn-haired chuunin, scuttling down on the lap supporting him, in attempts to reach the floor, "I thought you'd like the cherry bombs, dattebayo..."

[Hrtofdrkns]

Iruka didn't respond, having a "man with a mission" look about him. He raised his hand high and brought it down hard onto the bare bottom over his lap. SMACK!

[*starfruits*]

The blond youth’s barbed tresses seemed to stand out, and burst further upwards as the sharp strike waged a small fire across his exposed backside, and his blue eyes were wide as he stared motionless and still, protests diminishing into silence as his childlike mentality attempted to make sense of what had just happened to him, or rather, to his bare butt.

After a prolonged moment of staring in awe and wonder at the flooring, the fox-whiskered youth sniffled, bottom lip wobbling profusely. In the next instant, his façade had crinkled into a pained, heartrending grimace, and he began to wail loudly, “Ahhh—!! It hurts, ‘tebayooo!!”

[Hrtofdrkns]

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Iruka gave him a rapid series of strikes, one every second.

[*starfruits*]

The Uzumaki youth kicked his legs, and grunted shrilly as his pants caught them up and made his efforts altogether useless. His plump buttocks bounced up under his chuunin sensei’s hand, inviting the fiery smacks as though they were intimate neighbours. Naruto sniffled loudly, his effort at adorability and reprieve had been lost, and even his despondent cries had gotten him no further from the painful realms of his sensei’s lap, and only made him seem that much more childish. Pouting, his bottom lip thrusting out, and his fox-whiskered cheeks puffing up, the endearing rebel growled quietly and impetuously, “Ah-yowch!! You’re really OWIE! mean, Iruka-s-sensei, d-dattebayo!!”

[Hrtofdrkns]

Iruka ,however, wasn't too concerned about being thought mean at this point. He started to slow down the pace of the spanks, but put more force behind them. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

[*starfruits*]

“Owww! Stooop!!” The little nin-student wailed heartily, squirming about in the wide lap supporting him, his legs scissoring and flexing in order to wean his naked cheeks from the leisurely descending palm, “My ass hurts!!” The fox-whiskered youth cried out somewhat obviously, almost to himself, his choice of wording somewhat colourful, yet he did not seem to take heed as he twisted in an effort to turn himself over face-up across the cloth-clad thighs, but to no avail. Due to his lively struggles, his orange pants had long since departed from his right leg, and hung haphazardly on his left ankle, which waved the garment around like an orange flag of retreat, “Ouchouch!!”