Anthony's 11th birthday was only three days away. He had been looking forward to it with mixed, but mainly happy, feelings. The best thing about it was that his father had promised him a brand new racing bicycle, so long as he kept out of trouble at school. The down side was that his father had also announced that, once he was eleven, any punishments he may need would be administered with a large slipper, rather than with the paternal hand. Until today, he had only looked on the bright side. But now things were different. He had got into serious trouble at school and, should his father find out, he would definitely not be getting the bicycle.
Anthony and two friends had been playing by the CCF hut in the school grounds. They had decided to do a bit of target practice with an air rifle. They set up some milk bottles on a window sill and took turns at shooting at them. Now this was foolish for several reasons. First, not surprisingly, boys were not permitted to use air rifles unsupervised. Second, a missed milk bottle would almost certainly result in a broken window.
The inevitable happened. One of the boys, they all realised it mattered not which and there were no recriminations, missed his target and the window shattered. As he did so, Sergeant Symes, the school's CCF organiser, came round the corner of the hut and saw all. He was not pleased. He knew that what he ought to do was to report the boys to the headmaster and leave everything to him. But he had long thought the headmaster to be too weak when it came to discipline.
Sergeant Symes was of the old school. He thought that the abolition of corporal punishment in school had been a major catastrophe. As far as he was concerned, these boys would quite clearly benefit hugely from a good old fashioned thrashing. Much as he would have loved to administer it himself, he knew that that would mean the end of his job. No, all he could do was impose a penalty which might lead to a sensible punishment being administered at home. In an instant, he decided.
First, he gave the boys the sort of telling off that only a senior non-commissioned officer in the British Army can deliver. There can be little doubt that, were crying not considered to be the greatest weakness a boy could demonstrate, all three would have been in floods of tears by the end of it. Then he passed sentence.
"I am now going to be lenient boys. I will write a note to each of your parents. It will ask them to give you each £20 to bring in to school tomorrow to pay for the damage. It will also say that I am content to leave your punishments to them. Of course, if you do not bring £20 in tomorrow morning, the matter will have to be taken further. You will also, incidentally, bring the notes back duly signed by your fathers. Wait here while I write the notes." He then went into the hut. Five minutes later, he emerged with three envelopes which he gave to the boys. They took them and walked off together in gloom.
"I'm done for", said Roger, a normally chirpy eleven year old, "my dad will kill me. If only Slimy had just told us to bring in twenty quid I'd be OK. I've got £25 in my savings. But Dad will have to find out cos of getting this stupid note signed."
"What will he do?" asked Timothy, who was also just eleven and had also lost his normally cheerful demeanour.
"Well, obviously he'll give me a hiding. But I don't mind that so much. I mean, he's a well hard whacker, but at least whackings are over and done with quickly. The really annoying thing is that I reckon I've almost persuaded him to take us to Disneyland in France next half term. After this, I won't stand a chance."
The boys walked on in silence. Then Timothy suddenly spoke.
"Bloody hell, I've just remembered that Dad said he'd take me to the Chelsea match on Saturday. Fat chance now."
"Will that be your only punishment?" Anthony asked.
"Course not. My bum will be on fire tonight, but I'm used to that. What about you?"
Anthony said that he, too, would be on the wrong end of a walloping when his father got home from work, but that, like his friends, he had a much greater concern than that. He explained about the new bicycle. The others sympathised. Again, they walked on in silence.
It was Timothy who triggered the line of thought which led Anthony to think of a possible solution.
"Can either of you forge grown ups signatures?"
It didn't come to Anthony at once. He said he had tried to forge his mother's signature once on a note explaining that the reason for the absence of his homework was illness. It had been hopeless. The teacher had taken one look and then said there would be a double detention rather than a single one. They plodded on.
After a dew moments Anthony's brain wave came. He suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.
"Of course", he exclaimed, "Richard is ace."
"What are you talking about?" asked Roger.
"Richard's the fourteen year old boy who lives next door to us. You remember, I've told you about him before. He's a brilliant artist and he makes a fortune out of forging sick notes and things for boys in his school. He quite likes me, but much better than that; he really fancies Joanna. I bet he'll do it for us if he thinks that Jo would want him to."
Joanna was Anthony's twelve year old sister. She was a pretty, slim blonde girl who was just beginning to develop into a highly attractive teenager.
"Look, this is what we must do. You two go home and find samples of your dads' signatures. I'll find Jo and persuade her to come with us to get Richard to agree to do the forgeries. Then we'll all meet up in half an hour by the swings in the park and go on to Richards place."
Timothy looked doubtful. "How can you be so sure Jo will help? I thought the two of you had had a fight."
"No problems. One thing Jo hates is having her pretty little bum smacked by Dad and I've got enough on her to get her six of the best every day for a week."
Roger, who was developing slightly faster than his friends and who also felt the occasional stirring in Jo's presence, became quite animated at this statement.
"Does she get it bare, like boys?"
"Course she does."
Now that is definitely something Id like to see.
Anthony found his friend's interest in girls, and particularly Jo, decidedly odd. As far as he was concerned, girls were a confounded nuisance. They were hopeless when it came to making up a football team and they were the worst sneaks ever.
"It's hardly earth shaking stuff you know. It's just like watching a boy getting spanked, except she always blubs. Anyway, let's get on with the plan."
Roger made a mental note to get Anthony to give him a full description of one of his sister's spankings once all this was over. He certainly found the whole idea very exciting.
Timothy had another reservation.
"Look, this is all very good, but Slimy's bound to work out that we haven't been whacked. That time he gave one of his notes to Jim he spent the whole of the next day hanging round the showers just so he could make sure that Jim's bum had changed colour. If he sees us with white bums tomorrow he'll go straight to our dads to ask why we haven't been punished."
Anthony thought for a moment. There was only one solution.
"That's a good point, but I think there's a way out. Look, none of us is worried about getting whacked, right?"
The others agreed that Disneyland, football matches and bicycles were much more important.
"So we'll just have to get ourselves whacked. Obviously we can't get our dads to do it, but Richard is well strong. His dad used to give him mega whackings, so he knows the technique. He'll jump at the chance if we ask him."
Neither of the other boys was going to admit to any concern about submitting to a spanking from Richard. They agreed to the proposal with apparent (but not actual) nonchalance.
The three boys went their separate ways.
Anthony found Joanna at home. It took all his powers of persuasion (and threats of reports he would give to their father) to get her to agree to her part in the plan. But she did insist on one condition. She must be allowed to watch the spankings. Anthony was not greatly distressed by this on his own account. His sister had seen him being spanked on numerous occasions before. But he feared that Roger and Timothy might not be so unconcerned. He decided to ask Joanna to go ahead and break the ice with Richard while he broke the news to his friends.
Timothy was aghast when told of Joanna's demand.
"No girl has ever seen me being whacked since I was about seven", he exclaimed.
Roger, however, saw things in a different light. After all, if Joanna had seen him being spanked she might just, he thought, let him watch her getting it one day.
"Don't be wet Tim, I bet she fancies me and wants to see my bum. I think it'll be cool."
Timothy eventually gave in when the others reminded him of the forthcoming Chelsea match. The party of naughty schoolboys then set off for Richard's house.
While Anthony had been telling the others of his sister's condition for helping them, she had been explaining things to Richard. He had been alone at home when she arrived. His parents would not be back for some hours, he explained. He was still in his school uniform trousers, but he had discarded his jacket. Joanna, not for the first time, gave an admiring glance at his tall, firm, slim body. As he preceded her up the stairs to his bedsitting room, she couldnt help thinking that the slim fitting grey trousers showed off his rather spectacular bottom splendidly. It would be wonderful, she thought, if Anthony was right and this Adonis really did fancy her.
Richard listened to Joanna intently. His first reaction, on being told that three young boys were about to join them, had been one of disappointment. The thought of spending time alone with Joanna was a very attractive one. But, as the strange plan was unfolded to him, he began to cheer up. Although he was a thoroughly red-blooded male whose night time fantasies tended to centre on gorgeously attractive girls, he did also, occasionally, find his mind wandering onto thoughts of fit young lads having their bottoms spanked. What is more, if there was one boy in particular whose bottom he imagined being reddened, it was Anthony. He knew that the boy was subject to traditional punishment at home. Indeed, in the summer when the windows were open, he had even, once or twice, heard the slap of paternal hand on filial bottom. He had commiserated with Anthony on more than one occasion after a punishment, although he had never quite had the courage to ask to see the evidence. This interest in Anthony could be explained, he had convinced himself, by the boys likeness to Joanna. What he was really fantasising about, he told himself, was the sister's bottom being smacked. That, after all, would be a perfectly normal thing to excite a boy.
Anyway, whatever his motives may have been, Richard was not unexcited by the prospect of spanking these three boys. He had seen Roger and Timothy before. Both, like Anthony, were slim, muscular lads with eminently spankable bottoms. Both had splendidly cheerful and mischievous characters. Yes, he decided, this was going to be fun. He was also, he found, pleased at the prospect of Joanna watching the proceedings. He was determined to impress her with an excellent performance of male machismo. The spankings would be the hardest, he resolved, that any of the boys had ever suffered.
The doorbell rang. Richard left Joanna in his room while he went to get the boys. He opened the door. They were also in their school uniform trousers without jackets. He felt a slight stirring as he noted the tight trousers hugging the slim legs. Each boy had his note from Sergeant Symes and samples of paternal handwriting in his hands. They were looking up at the older boy with obvious fear that he might not go along with the plan. He quickly put their minds at rest.
"Well, you naughty boys, I gather you need your bottoms smacked. You'd better come upstairs." He ushered them ahead of him and admired their firm young buttocks almost as much as Joanna had admired his a short while ago.
When they got to his room, Richard explained that Joanna had told him all and, yes, he would help them out. They were ecstatic in their gratitude.
"My parents won't be back for ages, but we might as well get the show on the road as soon as possible. I suggest we do it like this: first I will forge the note from Timothy's father, once we are satisfied that that is perfect, I will spank Timothy. I think six should be enough. Bare bum, obviously, so that I can make sure I'm doing it hard enough to convince this soldier bloke at your school. Then, when I've done Timothy, I'll do Roger's note and spanking and then, finally, I'll do Anthony. Does that seem sensible?"
The boys nodded their agreement and sat cross-legged on the floor while Richard set to work with his pens. He was amazingly quick. He roughed out half a dozen versions on blank paper and then started writing on the Sergeant's note. He handed the finished product to Timothy. It was a masterpiece.
"Dear Sergeant Symes", he had written, "thank you so much for drawing my attention to Timothy's appalling behaviour. I have dealt with him most severely in a manner which, sadly, is not open to schools any more. I hope he will not give you any more trouble."
The note was handed round to the other boys and Joanna. They all marvelled at Richard's talent.
"OK Timothy, up you get, drop your trousers. You can leave your pants on for the moment. I'll pull them down when you're over my knee."
Timothy did as he was told. He pulled his trousers down revealing the slim, muscular legs of a keen footballer. He was wearing dark blue boxer shorts which were tight enough to show the slight, rounded buttocks to be all that Richard had hoped for. Richard turned his chair round, so it was no longer facing the desk, and sat in it with legs slightly apart. Joanna, he noted, was watching just as intently as the boys were. He hoped she would not notice the beginnings of a bulge under his flies.
Timothy needed no guidance on how to position himself. He stood between Richard's legs and lowered himself across the older boy's left leg. Richard then pushed his right leg firmly against the back of Timothy's thighs, to hold him in place and, with the left hand, pulled his shirt tail up his back. Then, using both hands, he gently eased the boxer shorts clear of the small white bottom. The scene was now set. He looked up to make sure that Joanna had a good view. Then he rested his hand on Timothy's bottom. It was cool to the touch and as firm as anyone could wish. He slowly raised his right hand above his head, pushing down on the boy's back with his left. Then he brought his right hand down with a tremendous crash onto the middle of the waiting bottom. He felt Timothy's back try to push up, not, he realised, to try to escape but just as an instinctive reaction to the heavy blow. He allowed his hand to rest again on the bottom. He felt it already beginning to warm. He lifted his hand again. It had left a clear pink imprint on the bottom. He waited, to allow a little more reddening.
Timothy was enormously impressed by the first smack. Richard clearly was a very fit and strong boy. His bottom was already stinging. This was not going to be a picnic.
Richard again brought the flat of his hand down with as much force as he could muster onto Timothy's bottom. Again, there was an involuntary arching of the boy's back as the slap landed. The bottom felt slightly warmer as Richard's hand rested on it. The mark was now definitely red, rather than pink.
Joanna was fascinated. Richard, she thought, was certainly going to be a real man one day. Although she was glad not to be on the receiving end of such a professional spanking herself, she felt a slight tremor of excitement at the thought of what it would be like to be squeezed between those strong legs with her knickers round her thighs.
Anthony's and Roger's thoughts were not so pleasurable. Although they, too, were imagining what it would be like to be squeezed between Richards legs with underpants round their thighs, the thought was not giving them any pleasure at all. The trouble was that what they were imagining was very soon to be a reality, and they could see that Richard was putting all his power into the spanking. They silently winced as each smack was so expertly delivered.
The next four slaps were as hard as the first two. By the end, although Timothy was not making a sound, he was definitely writhing in pain across Richards knee. His bottom was a deep scarlet colour. It would clearly not return to its normal milky hue for at least twenty four hours. When he was released, notwithstanding the presence of a girl, he jumped up and grabbed it with both hands, before remembering to pull his boxer shorts up.
"If you have sons when you're grown up, they are certainly going to do their best to keep out of trouble", Timothy exclaimed to Richard, "that was the wickedest spanking I've ever had, and that is saying a lot I can tell you".
Richard smiled as he quickly turned his chair back towards the desk. He was pretty confident that Joanna had not seen the bulge, but he desperately needed to get it under control. He concentrated his mind on the next piece of forgery. The first couple of efforts were not much good, but as the swelling began to decrease, he got better. He produced another masterpiece.
"Dear Sergeant Symes, thank you. Roger has been soundly thrashed."
Roger then stood and pulled his trousers down. He, too, had wonderfully powerful looking, but slim, legs. He was wearing white Y-fronts. Joanna couldn't help noticing that it was clear that he was rather more developed at the front than Timothy had been. She hoped that he, too, might stand up at the end before pulling his pants up. His bottom was just as perfect as Timothy's. This, she thought, is going to be fantastic.
As Roger positioned himself, Richard also became aware that something of rather more substance was pressing against his left thigh. He pulled the Y-fronts down and was delighted with what he saw. Another first rate bum, he thought. The spanking was just as hard. The bottom gradually turned from cool to hot and white to scarlet. There was not quite so much wriggling by the end, but there was certainly some. Richard was interested to note that the part of Roger which was pressed against his left thigh had slightly hardened, although clearly not to its full extent, and not enough to be embarrassing to the boy should he delay pulling up his pants.
Sure enough, Roger's instinctive reaction when his punishment was over, was to jump up, with underpants still hanging round his legs, and rub his bottom furiously. Joanna was delighted. Although the boy was still hairless, he definitely had more to show off than Timothy had. She wondered whether he had developed enough to play with it in bed.
Roger also expressed his admiration for Richard as a boy spanker. He had no doubt that his father could never smack as hard.
Anthony's note was then produced.
"Dear Sergeant, on Anthony's behalf, I do apologise for his behaviour. I can assure you that he went to bed with a very sore backside tonight!"
Watching Anthony's spanking was not as fascinating to Joanna as those of the others had been. She had seen his bottom being smacked on many occasions. So long as she was not due to be on the receiving end as well, she always quite enjoyed the sight, but it certainly did not cause the sort of excitement she had felt when watching Roger.
Richard, on the other hand, thought Anthony was the best of all. Although he was not as developed as Roger, he did have the sort of bottom which just cried out to be smacked. The reality of the spanking was vastly better than the fantasies Richard had occasionally had in the past. When it was over, he just wanted to keep the boy across his knee for as long as possible and gaze at the scarlet mound. But he knew he couldn't and reluctantly released him to perform his little war dance while rubbing his bottom.
The boys, once again, expressed their gratitude to Richard. They collected their forged notes and said they had to go and do their homework. Joanna did not appear to be inclined to move, and Richard asked her if she would like to stay for a cup of coffee. She readily agreed.
Once the boys had gone, it did not take Richard long to get round to the subject of Joanna's punishments. Neither was she slow to indulge him. She freely told him of her occasional spankings and of how they were always on her bare bottom. This time, she did notice the bulge under his flies. She was immensely excited. She was being driven by some mysterious inner force. She could not stop herself.
"Can I see what it's like being over your knee for a spanking?"
Richard almost choked with surprise and delight. This slim girl in tight blue jeans was going to lie across his knee. He realised he could not hit her, but this would be the icing on his cake. He resumed his place on the chair, legs again slightly apart. He realised that she must be able to see his state of arousal, but this time he did not care. She moved towards him and stood, as the boys had done, between his legs. He thought she was just about to bend, but then, to his amazement, he saw her undo her jeans and pull them down her legs. She was wearing the briefest of white knickers. Three quarters of her bottom was visible. It was as beautiful as Anthony's. This was heaven.
She bent over his left leg. He squeezed her thighs with his right. She could feel the hardness from under his flies. She had got her man! He gently caressed her bottom. He said it was exquisite. She was shaking with pleasure.
"You haven't pulled my knickers down yet".
His hands were clammy as he instantly obliged. He rested his right hand on her bottom. His heart was beating faster and faster. How long would she stay like this? Let it be for ever.
"If you want to, you can give me two smacks as hard as you gave the boys".
He needed no persuasion. After the first, she let out a squeal of pain, but was it also pleasure? He waited for her to get over it.
"Shall I give you another?"
"Yes, as hard as you can".
He obliged. There was a sob and then she wriggled delightfully. The pressure under his trousers was now almost unbearable. He could hear himself panting out loud. So could she.
She stood up and rubbed her bottom. Then, without replacing her knickers, she turned towards him. He stood. She looked down at his crotch.
"Will you let me help you with that?" She asked, pointing down to his flies.
He could not help himself. He nodded wordlessly. She moved forward and slowly undid the trousers. She lowered them, and his boxer shorts, to the floor. The sight that greeted her was, to her inexperienced eyes, astounding. It was three times the size of Roger's and standing vertically to attention. They both slipped gently to the floor and she tentatively moved her hand towards this wonderful object. She gripped it gently, then tighter and started a slow rhythmic movement. He begged her to go faster, but she kept it slow. She wanted this to go on for ever. But, of course, it could not. How could it? His mind was so full of Timothy, Roger, Anthony and now this angel. The explosion came and he fell back in relief.
Joanna became Richard's official girlfriend. She "helped him out" on other occasions, but never was there such fever pitch excitement as the first. When alone in his bed at night, he often remembered that extraordinary afternoon. Sometimes he would concentrate on Joanna, sometimes on the boys, and Anthony in particular. He never spanked them again, but what went on in his mind was another matter.
As for the boys, well the plan had worked. Sergeant Symes was very pleased with what he saw in the showers on the following day. Roger went to Disneyland. Timothy went to the Chelsea match (and they won). Anthony got his new bike. Roger, too, discovered a new and exciting activity on the night of his spanking. Anthony and Timothy thought it sounded revolting when he told them about it. But it was not that many months before they saw his point of view.