Fiction by Ricky Scarma
Boy named Scotty (PART 1: "I'm in trouble")
The summer of my 13th year I would spend most of my vacation days and nights with friends, a family of three boys ranging in age from 16 to the youngest, Scotty who was barely 11. The middle boy was my age and we'd hang out most of the time, but whereas he was plain and unattractive with moppy brown hair and uninteresting features, Scotty was an angelic boy adorned with brilliant blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and a spattering of soft freckles. His energy was addictive and consuming and I made every attempt to be with him when I was sure I wasn't making Richard feel alienated.
It was a pleasure to see this boy bare chested and most of the summer he romped without shirt or shoes, waking to don only his shorts. I would admit, even at age 13, I thought about this boy in ways I did not quite understand, nothing _s_e_x_ually, but still creating arousal all the same. Though it was rare Scotty got himself into too much trouble over that summer, there was one particular day I could never forget...
The sun seemed to glisten from every strand of hair on Scottys head, reflecting the boys soft cheeks and brilliant eyes. As he approached I noticed moisture from the corners of his eyes and then realized that the often perky, mischievious lips were crooked and on the verge to burst with crying. We were in the back yard in mid afternoon, Richard digging up holes in the far end of the backyard and me laying beneath a shade tree soaking in the heat. Scotty hadn't been around for most of the morning, but I hadn't given it much thought since he spent a great deal of his time with a neighbor kid more his age. When he approached with that sorrowful look in his face, I was immediatly alert and questioning.
"Whats wrong Scotty!?"
"I'm in trouble," The boy responded, biting his lower lips while his fingers fiddled with sides of his frazzled shorts. He wiped his eyes with his forearm and plopped himself with me beneath the tree, "I got dads bike stolen."
I studied the young boys downcast eyes for a moment then jumped to my feet, "Lets go find it!" I proclaimed, uncertain how that could be done, but knowing I would do anything to make the boy feel happy again. Scotty hesitated, gazing off past the pool as if deciding if it were even possible, then got to his feet and followed.
We spent the better half of the day before Scotty's dad came home from work searching for the bike but to no avail. Whoever had it, whereever it was, it was lost. Mere minutes before the boys dad pulled up in the driveway, two dejected and weary boys drug their feet towards home.
"What will he do?" I asked wiping sweat from my face.
"If he thinks it was my fault he'll ground me and give me a real bad spanking." Scotty spoke the words slowly, gazing off towards the house.
"What if I said it was my fault?" I asked, feeling my stomach clench just slightly.
"He'd yell at me cuz I was supposed to be watching it, but..." Scotty hesitated.
"But what?" I asked studying the boys smooth features. Even the days dirt hilighted the boys naturaly beauty.
"He can't ground you cuz you don't live with us, but he might spank you..." Scotty stated, staring at the ground. "I'd rather be spanked then grounded any time because he makes you work all day until bedtime and he never lets you off early and its always for at least a week."
"You really think he'd spank me!?"
"My dads easy to figure out. Trust me."
I stared at the forlogn boyish face for a moment then decided, "Okay, then I'll say I lost it." I told him, hesitant even as I spoke the words.
"But..but he'll probably spank you!" Scotty responded hurriedly as his dads car made its way from the opposite end of the street.
"Thats okay, I guess. I get it at home," I stated, unconvincing even to my self, "it won't be that bad."
Scotties mouth was agape, his angelic face marred only by confusion.
"How hard does he hit?" I asked, squirming uncomfortably as we drew closer to the house and an impending doom.
"Pretty hard. He spanks bare and he uses a paddle."
I felt an instant reaction to Scotty's words in my groin, a vision of the boys smooth young body bare as the day he was born, his bottom being reddened with the flat end of a paddle....
....to continue....