I'd flown into LAX, was staying with my business colleagues,(Bruce's parents, if you remember him or them and their Spencer Plan?), and found an invitation waiting for a dinner at the home of an old, very old, friend in the entertainment industry -- legit film and records company exec. though he himself is a long-time producer of docs.
The invitation was a beautifully hand-written note inviting me to join him for a "private and personal" dinner at his Beverly Hills home Friday night. Given I've known him for a long time and well know how fussy and flamboyantly delightfully gay he is, I wasn't all that excited about going but I decided to leave young Chris (also as Zach's still with him talking about life, etc.) with Bruce and the family back at that house, no big deal. Talk about being glad I did!
When I walked in the place, the host's more elderly black butler (whatever) in his white coat warmly (I've known him for years) and told me "they" were waiting for me in the dining area in the back. I've been there before for various reasons, no problem. Well, when I walked in and saw the host there I also saw a "Happy Belated B'Day" sign and my friend his blazer and tie standing there chatting with a drink in his hand, but around him were five strikingly drop dead gorgeous guys age range maybe 20 to 33. They each wore black midriff-length, fairly tight, T's with the words, "Birthday Boy" scripted in white letters across their chest. Other than that they each had on nothing but a garment that revealed their bare buns and bottoms beautifully! Talk about being surprised!
The one had on only a white jock, tight. Another, black leather chaps with everything hanging freely; another, a g-string; another a tight leather-like garment with buttons that could be unbuttoned (and were) that was a flap that hung down displaying a very firm, beautiful bare bottom (the front had buttons too to expose his _c_o_c_k_ and balls but that was buttoned up tight); and the last, a light tan deerskin "loincloth" with the rear flap tucked up in a way that made him nicely very exposed and ready. I was amazed and at a loss for words at first (unusual for me!), and I was immediately very, very glad I'd left Chris at home.
Producers are often a bit overly theatrical and my old friend was living up to that reputation.
He shoot my hand warmly, hugged me, handed me a drink (he knows what I drink and like) and then one by one, had each of these guys at his side introducing them to me by first name. I've been at his place when he's had nude waiters at a _c_o_c_k_tail party before, but nothing like this! As he introduced them, he also pawed and exhibited them, not hesitating to lift up some of their T's and always showing off their fine bare bottoms ("Here, you've got to feel this one's.") freely. Two of them, he made a point of pulling down their front ("You got to see how this one's hung" . . . "now you wont believe this one!"), and yes, they were finely endowed. Three of them were obviously extraverts and exhibitionists to boot and played it to the hilt. Two of them, including the one who looked to be the youngest, were shy, face down turned, and seemed embarrassed and humiliated as the old queen, my friend, dotted on them and especially when he forced them to display the finer parts of their nice but very bare bottoms to this stranger (me!) who'd just walked it. I'm sure I was red and I know the younger, less exhibitionistic ones were!
One turned especially very, very red when my host said, "This one had a little warm-up last night, didn't you now? And he liked it too?" He pinched the kid bare bottom as the boy yelped. That bottom didn't show any signs of anything I could see, but who know what he meant?
All of them were superior, Hollywood model-type, gorgeous guys, no question about it!
Not always comfortable with and certainly used to "groups," I still hadn't a clue how to play it or what was really going on, but the guys jumped in talking and I soon found myself the center of some very pleasant attention.
Dinner was elegant -- I used to call dinners like this "piss elegant," as I don't enjoy that kind of dining often. Two of the five served while all the rest of us were at the table. Happy Birthday was sung, my friend had a present (my birthday was past) and the evening was a normal gay queen's party except for the state of dress (and undress) of the five guys. Such is Hollywood!
Finally, I worked up enough never, to ask my friend what I thought (hoped) was a polite, but relevant, question. "It's a great party, but let me in on the secret. Why did you bring these guys along to share dinner?"
He looked at me with a straight face, smirking broadly, "Just a Birthday surprise, that's all. After all it's been a long time since you've been here. And, unless you object these days, each of them's going to get a spanking tonight, aren't you guys?"
A couple of them giggles, but I came close to dropping my fork as they all replied, as if on cue, "Yes, Sir."
The one sitting to my right at the table, tossed his arm across my shoulder and said, "And I hope it will be from you."
The others laughed.
The one waiting and who had just put down a bowl of something or other in front of me, took my free hand, and after placing it squarely on his bare bottom intoned, "Sir, I've been bad, real bad, but you can straighten me out tonight, I hope."
His bare bun in my hand at that point was flexing such that anyone would have found him appealing and his skill in movement was enough to cause anyone to immediately cancel dinner and find a private place ASAP.
I'm sure I very red at that point. Only the one, the one who looked the youngest, seemed quiet and was looking down at his plate, pushing his food around with his folk. He wasn't smiling, not at all.
I've been at parties and things in Europe mostly, but nothing quite like a moment like this! I still couldn't tell whether they were actors he'd hired or for real.
I nodded toward the youngest, quiet one. "Him too?" I questioned.
"Certainly, for sure, my friend," my host replied.
The boy looked up coyly, seemed to almost wink, and then he looked down again quickly.
"It's your Birthday," he continued, "spank any or each and all of them anytime and as much as you'd like." He smiled, toasted my way with his crystal wine glass, "And there's a paddle over there as well that we can use to get their hot fannies to really dance tonight. Let's make it a special night for sure. The boy are here for it, so let's make it a good party, shall we?"
He toasted his glass my way and several other the others raised their glasses also.
The youngest one, the one already red and seemingly embarrassed and humiliated by this point, looked over and visibly cringed. He seemed scared and genuine in that emotion at that point. Some of them tried a laugh a bit, but he didn't. To be more accurate, one laughed loudly and another two tried but the young one and one other were silent.
That youngest one was looking across the table at me and he didn't look like he was having any fun at all.
I looked back, "You deserve a spanking with that paddle, son?" I decided to see what he'd do, play a bit with him, maybe?
He looked down and didn't utter a sound. The others and the host looked at him, but he said nothing at all.
After several minutes the host looked at him and spoke, "Answer him, boy."
Again silence. Then softly he almost whispered, looking up only briefly.
"It's up to you, Sir."
"That'a boy." My friend answered.
I didn't believe him.
I don't mean to imply for a minute that most of the meal or that time was related to anything at all remotely connected to "spanking." It wasn't. My old friend knows I occasionally appreciate the finer points of a nice bare bottom and that I spank my own guys and occasionally others (thought it's rare). Much of the evening did focus, though on those nice bare bottoms and the older guys clearly were up for it and as exhibitionistic as hell. The youngest one was certainly the one who was participating least and I wondered what he was doing there?
They all looked like they'd be great to spank or paddle for sure, especially if it was going to be for real. Nothing like a gorgeous guy over your knee at a party taking him down more pegs than he expected! But the two who were the least extroverted in the participation, especially the youngest one who was almost completely silent, were the one's who probably least understood any of this. They would be the one who would probably be the most satisfying ones to turn over my knees to paddle. They would also probably be the ones who might need a good old fashioned spanking the most and benefit from some attention to their young buns down there as well.
But I still wasn't sure who they were and where they came from? I knew my old friend did not share any of this American "Scene" and I knew the kind of men he kept company with were rather different. My hunch was that they were all hired for the night just for the Hell of it, but the two quiet ones didn't seem to fit that picture. Then, of course, it also dawned on me that I might have been complete wrong about all of this.
With coffee and desert around his pool, some of the guys began to do everything possible to exhibit their bare assets. They were not at all shy about standing real close, touch, or even sitting on either my or my friend's laps. He seemed to be enjoying himself and especially playing with them. That in itself confused me. With the exception of the two quieter, more shy ones, they were all quite open in their verbal suggestions that they'd welcome a spanking. One was particularly funny when he said in a serious tone, "I think it's time you and I ought to take off for one of the rooms and you give me a real hot spanking now. I mean like I really want you to." When I looked at him quizzically, he quickly added, "I mean like I've been really naughty and I really came here so you could spank me really hard." He had his fine bare bottom right there and he was tapping it with his own hand. "Let's take the paddle and go, just you and I. Or you can do it to me right here if you want? OK?"
There had to be something more to this than I was aware of. Three of them were openly pushing me and my friend was also pushing a bit. Had to be a reason.
"Your time will come, I'm sure," was all I said.
The two quiet ones were white as sheets.
At the bar, I tried to ask my friend quietly, but all he was saying was that I should enjoy myself and go ahead anytime I felt like it. He was clearly having a good time. But he certainly wasn't telling me anything.
Anytime something seems too good, well it usually is. I was holding back and holding back judgement. No one's ever did this at a Birthday before that I'd ever seen.
Parts of what was happening seemed play, American style; but parts seemed for real. Why was the one so eager to get me to spank him? Why were the two so quiet and embarrassed? No, it couldn't be the fact that a younger guy often takes his getting his bare bottom spanked more personally and is more likely to be afraid of crying. Big boys, older boys, all of them often cry when paddled over a man's knee and are less embarrassed by it all. But, that couldn't be it and I knew it. Something else was at play here. I simply didn't know what?
Spanking a boy I don't know is not normally my thing, but tonight, what the hell.
As the evening wore on, I looked at the youngest, shy one.
"Come here, son."
When he realized I was talking to him, he looked like he'd have a heart attack or faint right on the spot. He wasn't quick about obeying. His friend nudged him toward me by pushing him in the small of his back. But, he was there. In front of me, and looking at me.
"Maybe you do need a spanking," I said. "Shall I paddle you now?"
I put my hand on his bare bottom. He had a real _s_e_x_y manner about himself and was squirming as hell. His eyes were firmly shut, like concrete had been used, but his face was flushing wildly.
"If you think I need a spanking, it's up to you, Sir." He spoke softly, but as he spoke his _c_o_c_k_ became extremely erect under it's thin covering.
I slapped his bare bottom hard, but only one time. Immediately his erection left completely and he gasped. I kept my hand on his bun.
"What do you think you need, son?" I pulled him closer.
"Whatever you want, Sir. Up to you." He looked at me only momentarily, then dropped his eyes.
He was hot, but very scared about something. Something else was going on here.
"Go stand over there in the corner. I'll spank you last."
He seemed extremely relieved for the privacy of that corner and he hugged it, his face in his hands. His white bare bottom clenched, with nothing left to the imagination, waiting.
"Can I go first and get over with?"
I was surprised and turned to see who's said that? It was the other shy quiet one.
"You need spanked too?" I said to him.
"Ah, no, ER, yes, Sir. But, you can spank me, Sir." He came up to me. "I can take it, Sir, if you're gonna' spank me, Sir, that is. I'd just like to get it over with first, Sir. Let me go first. OK?"
He looked about 24, thin, but well built. Why did he assume I'd spank him too?
"When's the last time you were spanked, boy?"
"Ah, mom spanked me once when I was in grade school, Sir."
"That's it?"
"Ah, yes, Sir. But I got grounded a lot in high school; and so I know what discipline's all about and all."
He wasn't believable. Still, I turned him around, grabbing his butt.
"You know it's going to hurt if I spank you down here?"
He was beautiful! He had a naive swagger and stance that coupled with his big smile and eagerness made me want to cuff him and keep him all night.
"Ah, Yes, Sir, but I can handle it, Sir. I know about discipline and all. Just let's get it over with. OK?"
"Why do you want me to spank you, boy?"
He seemed to think a lot before he finally told me.
"I think it would feel good, ER., I mean I think I can handle it, some discipline and all, and I'd like to get it over with, Sir."
Now this one's got to be fun. He's obviously not got a clue what he's talking about but he's sure talking!
"Forget him," it was the more extroverted older and bigger one who interjected himself without shame or manners into our conversation. "He's a baby. Let's you and me go into that back room and let me show you how a real man's ass can handle anything you can dish out. Cake."
"So you're experienced, now are you?" I replied
"He don't know what he's talking about," another one said. "I get spanked all the time by my guy and KNOW what I need and like."
"Hey, what about me?" chipped in the final one. "He's not so hot?"
Maybe not, I thought, but he's cute.
"That one especially needs his wings clipped and a good long session with a paddle for sure." My friend added.
Which one was "that one?"
He motioned the middle one to come toward him, and when he did he yanked down the kid's g-string, and I thought he was about to spank him himself. I mean, bare bottom's the rule in my house, so why not here? Instead though, he grabbed the kid's _c_o_c_k_ and balls and openly fondled the boy, much to the boy's obvious embarrassment, right in front of us all. Actually I'd never known him to have spanked anyone. Just not his style. So what he doing now? The boy became very erect, kept his eyes shut like steel doors and blushed, but then he pushed him toward the young one, "Go on over there and join your friend in the corner."
The kid went quickly as told while my host picked up his drink again and sat down.
"So come on, man, let go. I can't wait to feel your hand spanking my ass hot." He smiled, now right in front of me, "I've been bad, real bad today, why don't you see if you can't teach me a real good lesson? This here's all yours. Give it to me, man. Make it real hot for me."
What the hell was going on? Guys, especially ones as good looking as these were, don't compete to get spanked, at least not in my experience. My friend was motioning to me with a drink still in his hand, take my choice. OK, I'm not adverse to a party, I guess, but I'm missing something here.
With the exception of the young one hugging the corner, and the other one beside him, the other were looking at me, all close around me. I grabbed the one in the chaps. He smiled wildly.
"Yea."
And I started moving toward the other room with him now in toe.
As we passed the young one in the corner, I leaned over and whispered in his ear. "Don't doubt it, you'll get your bare bottom spanked good tonight. Think about it until I'm ready for you. But don't move or leave this corner. Understand?"
He actually almost appeared to be crying, though he nodded affirmatively as I continued on and led the tall one in the cowboy chaps into the next room. Tall, lanky, two firm buns sticking out and hard as a rock. How bad a task can this possibly be? OK, I'm ready to have a bit of fun, whatever's really going on. I'd picked up that paddle on the coffee table in the corner and had it with me in my hand as I shut the door behind me and pushed him over the bed. He thrust his bare buns up high as I quickly landed a hard loud one right across both of those buns. He let out an "Ouch!" The paddle had left a firm imprint clearly showing where I'd just applied that paddle. He was gripping my ankles like steel with his hands, his whole body but especially those two beautiful buns shaking wildly and quickly.
Wooh." He moaned, "Wow! Eeeeeech. Ouuuuu."
Then he thrust those bare buns up higher almost off my lap, offering them to me.
"Yea, man, give it to me good, man. Spank 'em, man, like spank 'em."
His buns were highlighted real nice in those chaps as I applied a few more swats to get them nice and rosy. Each time I landed the paddle with a loud crack he moaned, shared seductively, and steeled himself for more.
"Yea, man, I needed that."
This one was into it before and hardly a novice, but there was something enticing in that bare bottom sticking out of those chaps. Nothing like a challenge. I decided to break him in good.
After about ten minutes, he was gritting his teeth to insure I couldn't hear his whimpers, but I could tell from the reaction of his bare bottom still thrust up high for me that I was beginning to get to him.
Still a boy's completely bare bottom, over my knee is much more to my liking and I was tiring of this chap fetish thing. I stood him up and took them down and off him, even though it was obvious that he didn't want me too. Naked now, except for his T-shirt, he seemed less "into it." The _c_o_c_k_iness disappeared. His eyes were red, but in a moment or so and he soon found his bare bottom up over my lap that way getting an old-fashioned spanking and a good one at that. A few more sincere whimpers began. All it took was a few well placed slaps with the palm of my hand right on the very bottoms of his buns, top of his thighs, and his tears began in earnest this time. His buns were no longer being thrust up for more.
Now he was proclaiming "Enough. Sir. Enough!"
It got him no where as I spanked him soundly and by the time I was done, tears were glowing on this beautiful well-spanked boy now without his chaps. Possibly he wont forget to wear something under them the next time?
I stood him up. He was hard as a rock. Silent and stoic as could be.
I pulled him back down over my knees and gave him what he was really needing. Another good spanking to take him over the edge.
He cried. He cried a lot. He cried an awful lot.
And regardless of his personal humiliation in knowing the others just outside the shut door were listening to his crying, he cried his heart out, loud and long across my lap. His whole body was bathed in sweat from the experience.
When I was ready, I put those chaps back on and after noticing closely how well those chaps displayed his now very red bare bottom cheeks, I took him by the hand and took him out into the next room. He was the perfect model of a submissive boy who'd just learned a lesson. A poster boy for the cause.
Anyway, with him standing in the corner in the room with the others, I motioned to the outspoken one. His eyes had widened unnaturally when I had pulled the first one out of that bedroom and pointed him to that corner.
Actually, they all stared at the leather chaps one when I brought him out. His _c_o_c_k_ and balls were swimming openly, as I was curling my finger in his direction but it wasn't like anyone noticed or paid any attention. All eyes were on his hands hiding his face and wiping away his fresh tears from his having just been spanked soundly. He looked at no one, never removing his hands from his face or looking up at all. He wasn't _c_o_c_k_y now. He just moved deliberately to that corner I had directed him to stand in. Then he turned and they all saw that incredibly scarlet red that only exists on a very freshly and very solidly spanked young man's bare bottom! His well formed buns were very red, sizzling hot. Standing in that corner he tried to keep them clenched, as his embarrassment set in; but I pushed his thighs apart a little giving the others a small suggestion as to how well he'd just been spanked, especially there were young men usually prefer to keep things rather private.
He'd not looked at any one, nor uttered a word; but they all were now staring at his back and his nice red, bare bottom.
Mr. Outspoken seemed to be softening and not so sure as I guided him back into that room with my hand grasping his bun firmly. He moved quickly though.
"You want to feel this hand spanking your ass, Boy? Well, your wish is about to come true," I said feeling no reason at all to go easy on this one.
"Ah, that's not exactly what I meant, ah, Man and all." He replied as I pulled him over my lap, adjusted his _c_o_c_k_ and balls, and spread those cheeks. More mature than the others, the solid stud type, he looked good, very good. His buns were Clorox white and blemish less. He went over.
"You been spanked before?"
"Ah, no Sir." He muttered, lifting his head from the floor and trying to see what I was doing.
"But out there you said. . ."
"I know, Man, but I had to Sir. I had to say that cause. . ."
SLAP! My palm landed firmly.
"Hey! Take it easy!"
"Dream on, Big Boy," I replied with another solid slap. "Now we're really going to see what this ass can really take. . . "
SLAP!
"Come on, Big Boy. . .."
SLAP
"Spread those buns for me, 'cause. . .."
SLAP
"You're getting a good long spanking . . .."
SLAP
"YOU HEARD ME: Spread those buns for me, 'cause. . .."
SLAP
"You're getting a good long spanking . . .."
SLAP
"And then a nice long paddling!"
All that come on bravado disappeared. He was crying and kicking harder than the first and more quickly too. By the time I picked up the paddle, he was asking, no, begging and pleading, for that spanking that he'd so boldly been asking for earlier, to end and end now. Too late for second thoughts. I kept him held firmly across my knees and paddled his bare bottom anyway. These real well developed, beefy studs always seem to turn into sissies when what they thought was going to be a _s_e_x_y game, suddenly turns into the real thing. He got his bare fanny paddled and paddled right this time. No playing around. When he finally walked out of that room and joined the others in the corner, this more _c_o_c_k_y, very good looking and bigger boy had been reduced to a sobbing, whining, and very obedient kid. My friend seemed to know him better than the others and commented on his extremely red bare bottom and made some feeble, but sincere, attempts to comfort him. Nothing helped. He continued in tears, periodically wiping his eyes and face as water streaked down.
Yep, it's the older, more beefy muscular ones, who think they "want" it, who fall the quickest and the hardest. This one had, for sure! The remaining guys looked whiter than ever, especially when after a pause and a drink, I motioned for the next one that struck my fancy to come along. I still didn't know what had been set up by my friend and host in all of this, but I had relaxed enough and gotten into it by now. It no longer mattered.
This next one tried his best to wear a brave face as I took him by the arm into the next room, at least in front of the others. Once inside, with the door closed, he tried every affection and offered every and anything I've ever heard of in his futile attempt to entice me into something other than spanking him. A good looking Hollywood pretty boy like him is used to getting his own way rather quickly around here, I guess. Anyway, he certainly gave it his all, but his pretty-boy looks and gorgeous body that he more than knew how to use to his advantage, got him nothing but that T and loincloth thing taken down and off completely and a good long spanking. Though he never cried, he clearly got the point on that pretty bare bottom and was more than repentant when I had finished with him, red face to match that pretty red bare bottom I'd given him. I'd enjoyed taking him. He clearly hadn't enjoyed the experience and he made that obvious to all concerned, and within miles.
His first vocal outbursts got him a warning. His second outburst, while still getting spanked by my hand across his bare pretty bottom, got him the paddle.
There's always something very special in spanking a gay, pretty boy, in this case an exceptionally beautiful and handsome one with soft, blemish less and hairless skin and exceptionally white, firm youthful buns, highlighted by the strongly distinct tan line from his exceptionally skimpy bathing suit. Over my lap, that exceptionally beautiful bare bottom begin to turn scarlet. Though the California sun had touched his body and turned it into a golden sun, that more privately white seductive bottom tanned nicely under my hand as he wiggled it and squirmed as seductively as possible as he got his spanking.
And wiggle it, he did for all he was worth! This one was used to using his seductive bare bottom and buns to entice any men and women into giving him his way and letting him have it the way he preferred. Unfortunately, I had something other than that in mind.
I spanked and paddled him and assured the tears flowing and the promises being gasped out in between were sincere and real.
Enjoyable? For sure. Nothing like a seductive young gay pretty boy's bare bottom when he tries to get out of and avoid the spanking he knows he's got coming!
That left the two younger ones. They could wait, especially as the longer I put it off, almost the whiter they seemed to become!
My friend and I spent some time talking. The older, beefy one was the one, it turned out, that he had long been interested in. We talked, caught up on some old times and friends, but still, try as I might now and then, I just couldn't quite figure out why these kids were so willing tonight or where they really came from? My hunch that they were hired "waiters" just didn't explain their willingness, whatever? Still I knew he knew what I was asking, subtly a bit with them all in the same room here, but he didn't let on and he certainly wasn't offering any hints or explanations. All he would say was something to the effect of enjoy your Birthday and spank them, any or all, as much as you want for as long as you want. Why not?
Still, I wanted to know more. This was one of those situations were I had no control of what was really going on. If he had paid them, it must have cost a fortune. The three who had already just been across my knee were all real quiet and inward now. The other two, the younger ones, were equally quiet, but for different reasons.
"Your turn's coming soon," I whispered to the youngest one who seemed about to break out with emotion when I finally took holder of the other youth beside him.
As I pulled the youth inside and went to shut the door, he was trying his best to pull physically away from my grip.
"Ah, Sir, you don't really have to spank me, you know." He said with a certain degree of theatrical seriousness when we were behind that closed door and I had turned him to face me directly. "I mean, we could like pretend and all."
I smiled, taking his face in my hands, and looked into those cute big brown eyes that were a little watery, "I don't pretend, son."
Instead I striped him naked, this time fully without any cooperation from him, but his resistance was simply too little too late. He stood naked, trying to hide is _c_o_c_k_ from my view with his hands. His thighs were clenched tightly shut, his knees locked and bend almost seductively. I lifted his hand away myself and what I hadn't already seen certainly wasn't disappointing.
He was young, sure, but gorgeous with a tight slight body and cute little bottom well worth pursuing. I played with him a bit, something he actually initiated with extreme gusto. I suppose you might call it a little bit of wrestling with a great deal of intimate contact, but after a few turns, he was easy to turn over my knee, lock in that way, and crack that nearby paddle down on his bare bottom just to bring back his full attention. He bucked wildly over my lap.
He screamed, fought, struggled like hell, yelling at the top of his young lungs.
I paddled him.
"I told you I don't pretend, son."
I paddled him hard. . . and long. His small size and underdeveloped strength were no match. He got that paddling his old man should have given him long ago, something to keep him away from this scene out here. And yes, he fully utilized his youthful vocal cords for all they were worth.
"Ok, OK, OKKKKKK." He screamed.
But I paddled him.
"ENOUGHT! STOP, PLEEEESE. . ."
Some guys just have bare bottom that begs for it. His was one. The more I paddled him, the more he just kept on wiggling, and crying, and screaming, and all in a way that just begs for just a little more attention to those young buns and firm young bottom. A frantically bucking naked boy, exposing and clenching his buns in ways beyond his control as he is spanked over a man's lap is a sight to see! This one sure was! And as I spanked him harder, he soon lost it, forgetting his humiliation and embarrassment at bucking and exposing himself that uniquely boyish way that only makes his bare bottom more enticing. This one was getting the spanking of his young life. Something he didn't want, but he certainly was asking for. He responded well, naturally grasping my calf with both hands and crying his young eyes out hanging over my knees that way.
I just kept spanking him. If he was "in it," now he was in it and getting it for real as I continued spanking his young, bare bottom. My hunch is he'd never been spanked before. He definitely needed to be!
I just kept spanking him, pausing just long enough to hear his reactions and pleas as he tried to recover as much as possible. Then I spanked him again, keeping control of him with the palm of my bare hand.
When I relaxed my grip, he flew on me, rolling around, crying, sobbing, and letting it all out in ways to refresh anyone's soul. He was beautiful. And he let it all come out. He was screaming and crying and apologizing for things I'd never heard of! And he was sobbing all over my chest, thoroughly wetting my shoulder. He wouldn't let go! He spent as much time in my arms when I finally let him, as he had over my knees, getting his youthful bare bottom spanked . . . and then some! His reactions were obvious to anyone who's ever spanked a boy. He definitely needed an older man in his life to keep him on the mark and to take him to task with more than a few good, old fashioned bare bottom spankings. Set him straight in life. This one was looking for it.
If I'd lived there, no question I would consider accepting the job. His spanking had taken far longer than the others, especially with the aftermath. Yet, this boy had responded beautifully to it. He definitely needed it, definitely!
His tears and emotions all flowed out in the privacy of that room then. Just a man and a boy. Making contact. Sure it would have been nice to get to know him and stay in contact, but that just wasn't in the cards at that moment.
He seemed so fragile, almost weak knees, when we were finished, so I made sure his composure was back and he was able to smile a bit and look in the mirror proudly before we left that room. Gorgeous boy, but now a youth with a very red, bare bottom, deposited firmly in the corner.
"Don't move or I'll spank you all over again."
No question about it. He stood stiffly and at attention.
The young one was now the only one left. No hurry. He looked like he was about to die on the spot anyway. It was in the wee hours anyway by now, so what's the point of hurrying? No one had made any signs about leaving. About the only change in the room was that the older one was now on the couch, in my friend's arms, welcoming some intimate consolation when we re-entered the room.
"Come on, Son."
The words, though softly spoken, caught the youngest one's attention and he turned and looked at me.
"Still think it's 'up to me,' Son?"
He seemed almost dazed. His young eyes were already watery, but he looked right at me.
"Yes, Sir," he said. "It's up to you."
"Then let's go, Son."
I held out my hand and he took it but he also came up very close to my chest, holding me tightly, his young eyes looked up at me, his lips almost seemed to smile just a little bit. He looked so vulnerable, so innocent and pure. I kissed him on his forehead and when he looked up and smiled this time, his eyes told it all. With my arms still around him, I began to point him to that room. He'd heard the last ones' tears. He'd peeked from in that corner I knew and seen all of the older, stronger and bigger ones start toward that same door to which he was not heading. And he'd heard all of them howler and cry as I'd spanked them. He knew what was coming, but he hugged me back.
"Yea, Sir," his lips mouthed softly, "It's up to you."
"Time's up. Let's go spank you, Son."
He'd gone with me without much resistance, but his body told a different story. He was afraid of getting spanked right now. A boy who is truly afraid and doesn't at all want to get his spanking and is probably going to resist in any way he can, well, what can I say? This is the one who will surely prove to be the most one to spank . . . and the one who will learn from it the most and thank you the deepest when it's all over.
They like to think they are mature, young men, guys like these, undefeatable and ready to take on the world single handedly. Inside that longing for the guidance from an older, more experienced, and yes, even wiser slightly older man is always there. Throughout time, it's always been the same. He didn't want to have to get over my knees, with his young, bare bottom up there exposed naked when I could see and do anything. No boy ever really does. But there was a painful and humiliating lesson across that fine bare bottom he'd protected all his life.
Time to spank him.
His little bare bottom felt exceptionally fine to me! Time to teach him a lesson, if for no other reason for his coming here tonight in the first place. Time to spank him and get it over with. Teach him a lesson on his firm young buns that he'd never forget.
I shut the door behind us. The room was deathly silent.
It was time to spank him.
He knew it. I could see the fear in his young innocent eyes, but he stood straight, at least for now.
When I turned around and looked at him, he was standing on the far side of the room back up against the dresser and about as far from me as he could possibly get and still be in the same room. He had his butt flat up on the edge of that old oak antique dresser, his fingers tightly gripping its edges, his chest leaning backwards against the mirror. His eyes followed my every move. Though he was the youngest, he was also, in many ways, the cutest, especially cornered in a room like this, dressed, or maybe "undressed" like he was and leaning backwards that way. His half T-shirt had moved up further on his chest, exposing the whole of his young firm stomach and thin, hairless abdomen with just a soft thin wispy strand of hair travelling down in a thin line, disappearing into his pure white jock strap. His body's straining back like that forced his _c_o_c_k_ and balls even more out and outlined in that tight-ish, clean white jockstrap that looked like he's probably bought it new, just for tonight. It was all that protected him from my complete view. His chin was on his chest and he was peering out of the top of his eyes this way, watching my every move. He looked very much caught, cornered and, scared with those big eyes following me as I walked around the bed making my way toward him.
He was every bit a young man afraid of, yet watching every single movement of the bigger, older man now moving toward him with the clear and known intent of turning his young bare buns sunny side up over his lap and spanking and paddling them and him. He'd be spanked and paddled until he was consumed in his own sobbing and crying himself into the state of a small boy being punished by his dad. And "dad" would spank him as much as he wanted to.
He watched me. He knew I was coming around that bed to spank him. I knew it too. And he'd heard the other crying and screaming from within the very same closed room. Soon there would be yet another young man crying and screaming, getting his bare bottom tanned real good. This time it was going to be him. And like all boys his age, now that he was about to get his spanking, he was afraid and scared. It was no longer a game. There weren't any others around. It was just him and me, a young man and an older man about to spank him as much as I wished, no matter what he wanted, and for as long as I choose to. He had no choice.
As I approached him, he backed up on that dresser even further, as if a few mere inches might protect him more! He was almost sitting on it now, but not quite.
I yanked him off quickly and cupped his bare buns, pulling him toward me.
"Please, Sir." He said quietly, "Please don't spank me."
I looked at him closely, then quietly and without fanfare simply slipped down his jock as his body tensed even more. I helped him slip out of it completely, tossing it aside on the floor. His _c_o_c_k_ and balls were small but finely developed, nestled in a fine nestle of just a little hair. His thighs were firm, though thin. He looked even better this way.
"Please, Sir." He said again, even more quietly, "Please don't spank me. Please."
He wasn't whining or whimpering, just talking softly, sincerely, hopefully. He didn't want spanked. What boy ever does when he bare and just about ready to get it over an older man's knee? He didn't bargain or try to lie, no promises he couldn't keep. He was objecting in the only way he could right then.
But I wasn't listening. I had turned him around and was looking at his pure, youthful, firm bare cheeks. They were natural, everything a young boy could hope for, nicely formed, sculpted, beautiful. I looked at them, caressed them, spread them to see his reaction.
"Please, please, please," He said again, "don't, please don't spank me, Sir."
He'd tensed immediately, even more. I looked at those beautiful buns in my hands, pushed him forward a bit, back over that same antique dresses, exposing their hairless, blemish less beautifully much more intimately. Those buns, spread more openly now and that bare bottom was aching to be spanked, asking for it, begging for it. He needed some attention on them and more. His words were softly asking me not to spank him and this beautiful bare bottom right there, slightly spread and waiting for me. But his bare bottom was crying out for it, crying out for the long neglected attention from an older man that they'd been seeking for years. His bun's twitched as I looked at them in my hands. No way I could every resist spanking this fine young man's bare bottom, turning those cheeks hot and red as fire for him. Let him squirm them, cry, wiggle, buck, maybe even yell and scream a bit as he got his spanking. I'd watch him do that primitive and age tested dance that young men all do when spanked by a man.
"Please, Sir." He said quietly, again "Please, please don't spank me."
It was my decision.
He knew that for sure.
He needed a good, old-fashioned, bare bottom spanking. If for no other reason than for getting himself into this position in the first place! What was he doing here tonight? He should never have been here in the first place.
I studied his bare bottom in my hands with relish. Soon it would be hot, turned red, and, yes, he would be crying. His bare buns, nicely separated, tightly meeting those firm thighs in my hand were still in my palms. My middle finger tested him a bit. He was too young, too youthful, to close to perfection, too vulnerable and much, much too tempting.
"Please, Sir, please. . .," his whisper was even quieter now with his protective jock down and tossed aside, all a boy this age holds personal and private, now in the hands of a man who's brought him in here alone just to spank him.
I'd waited all night to spank this one, let him worry and fret himself into a good state for it too. Now it was time to spank him. (to be continued. . ..)