For sure it was time to spank him the way he hung there over my lap, squirming as much as my grip would permit him too and still trying his best to talk me out of it. His beautifully little firm bottom struggling over my knees was as firm and well formed as well as well deserving of a nice long spanking as any I'd ever seen.
His uncomfortableness seemed to cause him to shift his weight on his young legs causing his buns to move seductively even without his intent. He'd get it more, he'd get a worse one, because of it too.
He needed a spanking. He needed a breaking in. This scared young one was asking for it right across his young, bare fanny, and that was just where I intended to plant it on him.
"You're been spanked before?" I asked, also speaking quietly. Thought I had his buns in my hands still, I'd moved up and was facing him, with one hand then lifting his head and looking into his touch of watery big eyes.
He tried to look down, close his eyes, then he mouthed, "No, Sir."
"Never?"
"No, Sir."
"Never, not even when you were younger, your father?" I questioned the boy.
"No, Sir. Never."
"Really? Never?"
"Please, Sir. No Never, Pleeeese. . ."
"That's hard to believe with a cute little butt like you've got, Son. You telling me the truth, Son?"
"Noooo, I mean Yes, Sir. Please, Oh Please, Sir. Please don't spank me, Sir. Please. OK, OK, Dad threatened to spank me a couple of time, but he never did, Sir. Please, Sir, Oh Pleeeeese."
"Don't you think it's about time you were, Son?"
The question clearly caught him unexpectedly. He seemed to be trying to figure out what I was asking.
"No, Sir. Please, I. . . Ah, I changed my mind, Sir. I don't want to get spanked, Sir. I changed my mind. It's gonna' hurt, Sir. Pleeeeese. . . ."
"Then why are you here tonight?"
"Ah, my friend told me about this party tonight and asked me if I wanted to come along and all and like it sounded like maybe it might be fun and all I guess." He seemed sincere in his reply. "I mean like it sounded fun and I didn't have anything else to do."
"You didn't know you might get spanked if you came?"
"No, Sir," he replied, "ER actually, well, maybe, yes, yea, my friend, OK, OK, my friend said something about it, but I didn't think it was for real or all or nothing. Nothing like this, Sir. Please don't, Sir."
"But what you said earlier."
"Ah, yea. It's up to you, Sir, really."
I was confused about what he was really saying, but I was not at all confused about the beautiful bun in my right palm on that tight little bare fanny that had yet to learn a lesson or feel a man's hand.
"And you know I'm going to spank you?"
"Yea, I guess I do, but I hope you wont . . . Sir. Please."
He looked down again.
"Please, Sir. I know I shouldn't 'a come tonight but I had to but please, Sir, please don't spank me. Please, Sir. I can't take it! You aren't going to hit me, are you, Sir? Pleeeese. . .."
"Sure, for sure I'm going to spank you, probably paddle you too, and you're going to get it until you tell me why you came tonight and I mean the truth."
I yanked him up till he was standing straight in front of me, shielding his eyes and face from my view.
"Tell me, Son?"
His mouth opened and his eyes dropped again. "I can't, Sir. I just can't."
"Then you're going to get spanked until you do."
My hands looked him over. For sure! His face drained of all colour.
"Please don't. . . Please, I can't." He was about to break out into tears. His eyes were watering up.
"Take that silly shirt off and let's get your spanking started."
He looked surprised but he reached down and removed his T. I helped him get it up and over his head. The young man's chest and nipples came slowly into view and didn't disappoint for a single moment. This boy's beautiful!
"Please." He said.
"Get your buns over this lap, son." I'd sat down on the straight chair on the other side of the bed, waiting, patting my thigh where I wanted his bare bottom and now.
"Please." He tried again but he came over with hesitancy and very slowly.
"Pleeeeeeeease don't, pleeeeeese, Sir."
His body moved like a young dancer, with grace and innocent beauty. He was completely nude now, his young _c_o_c_k_ softly moving as his legs moved him close and closer to me until he was right beside me, looking at my lap.
"You got something you want to tell me, Son?" I asked him.
"I can't."
"Over you go, Son. Put those buns right here up and ready for me. Time to get your spanking, Son, get those tears flowing, get this fanny nice and hot and wiggling for me, son. This is something your father should have done years ago."
He hesitated. He looked terrified. It was going to happen.
"Don't anger me, Son!" He saw the look in my eyes now. "When I tell you to do something, you do it!"
He stamped his feet.
"No. You can't spank me! Not like this! Pleeeeeeeeese! I don't want you too."
Enough of this nonsense. I reached up and less than gently, pulled him down over, adjusting his young bare body, his bare buns right up there while his legs and arms flailed away struggling for balance. I was enjoying it, his beautiful young bare body struggling, yet still he was gripping for modesty. I lifted him up by his waist with my hands and plopped his young ass down there right up high and on top of my lap for me just like I wanted it. He was still carrying on his fruitless struggle for modesty, trying to grip those buns for all they were worth, knowing what I was seeing. I was having non of it. He was to obey!
I gave him a few well placed swats with the palm of my hand and used my right leg to separate his thighs, pulling his buns apart, forcefully spreading them like they should be for a good, first spanking.
I landed a few slaps right where they would do him the most good as he continued to fight me.
"Relax, Son."
Slap!
"Relax right down here like I like you."
He was struggling but trying.
"You're gonna' learn, Son, if I have to spank you all night. Now relax!"
SLAP!
"Owuuuuuuuuuuuuuh!" His first solid slap fell firmly across his bare bottom. The hand print showed how well I'd landed that one!
"Come on, Son." I reminded him. "Relax your bottom, Son, so I can spank it real good for you."
AWHHH. "I'm trying, I'm trying. . .." He screamed out as soon as my handed landed again. Frantically I could watch his bare buns cleck and they his deliberate attempts to relax them as I had told him to do. He was having trouble doing it, of course. It takes time to train a boy, especially a young one this young who's never been spanked before. I could be patient, but he was going to learn and learn well during this lesson.
I spapped his buns several times, pulling them apart, probing under him, forcing him to forget what I was seeing and beginning to come to grips with those deep seated emotions and fears that the sting of my palm was forcing up from deep inside him. A boy hurts in pain when he's spanked deeply like this. It's something he needs, but doesn't want and tries everything to avoid. Now he was feeling it and struggling with everything all at once. I was starting to spank him, yet I was also forcing him to relax those buns. He's going to learn well.
"Please!!!! Owuuuu. . . Sir, Please. . .. I'm trying, I'm really trying." Him whimpered, maybe cried is a better word, almost gently, softly.
"That a boy." He was trying. "Now you hold these buns just like this, nice and open like this, and you hold 'em like this when a man's spanking you. You've got nothing down here I haven't seen before and wont see real good before I'm finished spanking you anyway, so hold still."
"I'm trying, Sir." . . .
No question he was but I wasn't interested in the kid's "trying." I was tanning his bare fanny for him and good..
Slap!
My palm landed him a good one again and his wailing began in real earnest as he cried over my lap as I spanked him.
It went on like that. I spanked him.
Next time I asked my origional question, I got the same answer and he got spanked more.
Time for the paddle.
I applied it to his bare bottom with him over my lap, good and solidly, and then again later with him spread bent over the bed, his legs flailing on the floor. He cried, sobbed, pounded the bed and the pillow, and struggled, wiggling wildly. He responded beautifully, but he wouldn't answer my question.
"I can't, I can't, Pleeeeeeese!"
And he cried it out long and hard as the paddle applied the motivation. At the end he won, I gave up. I hadn't failed to get a boy to open up in years, but I couldn't get this young man to tell me! He surrounded himself in my arms and cried it all out, tears streaking down his face. He'd had a good long lesson, a good long session across my lap, but he hadn't answered my question.
Spanking him too a long time, but then again, a good spanking always does. Nothing is gained by rushing.
By the time I finally opened that bedroom door and went out into the room, the others were all still in the corner but the older one was well into the arms and then some of my friend. The boys looked worn and exhausted. Though my friend asked if I was going to spank any of them again, I said no, there was an audible sigh of relief from two of them and then he told them to all get dressed and go home. They all scampered into their cloths quickly and two bolted out the door immediately. One almost seemed to be lingering, but he too finally left. The door shut behind him and was locked for the night.
I kept the young one still crying in the bed in the other room and my friend took his and disappeared.
It took the boy in the room a long time to settle down, much longer than necessary in my option. By the time he finally did, he was exhausted and so was I!
The next day I awoke at noon, still half exhausted, the well spanked young man's bare bottom still in my hand as he sleep equally exhausted on my hairy chest. His scarlet red bare bottom was still as hot as a burning skillet and so was he, but he was OK. Smiled, actually.
Still it took a long time to get up and finally find some coffee for both of us that morning. I had to get out of there. No one back at Bruce's place knew where I was and I never stay out all night, especially in a city with the reputation of Los Angeles.
Later I finally had pulled myself together, put in a phone call to assure everyone I was on my way and we began to part. For some reason I offered to drive him home. I had no idea how he'd gotten there but he clearly hadn't driven himself. Surprisingly he accepted. I also did something I almost never do. After listening to him talk just a little in the car, I abruptly threw caution to the wind gave him Bruce's family number were we were staying and my business card with e-mail address. Then I dropped him at one of those non-descriptive apartments that Hollywood and West Los Angeles are famous for. He'd said almost nothing in the car of importance. Such is life. As he got out, he reached over and shook my hand, smiling now.
Then he said "I'll call you tonight, Sir."
Moments later he had disappeared into the building. I didn't even know his name. He was gone. Yea, I've heard that I'll call you stuff before. He was gone.
Surprisingly, he did.
A few days later and yes, I took him out to dinner. Then he sprung it. My friend had paid them all for coming over and being at a party for the evening, as I had expected; but he had also offered an additional thousand dollars to the one I spanked the most or who stayed the longest with me! _d_a_m_n_ him anyway!
But, he continued, the reason this young man hadn't said anything except "I can't, I can't" is that my friend also had a few mikes in that room and the agreement was that any boy who told or said anything, got nothing, zip, zero. He needed that money. He couldn't answer even though I spanked him for it.
And he'd gotten that money. The guy had paid him and "extremely well," to quote his words, "even a tip!"
I laughed, but I didn't like the set up.
Still, it was over. He's an aspiring actor, aren't most of them in that part of the world, though he knows it's a bad idea in his case. He started coming along with Chris and I. Ultimately, he hung around with us all, young Chris and Zach and Bruce, of course, while we did tourist type things that he stayed a few night in Bruce's room. We were staying in Bruce's house. Remember? He was as beautiful then as ever, even much nicer now when he was just being himself. He was welcomed and accepted, including by Bruce's folks. Nice guy. No job. Not much future. You've heard it all before.
"Do you do that often, Sir?" He said several days later when he and I were alone hiking on the beach.
"Do what, Son?"
"Spank a boy?" he said with a cute twist of his lips and the raising of his right eye brow.
"Only when you need it, Son," I smiled now, "only when you need it."
"It was pretty bad, you know."
"Yep, I know. It was meant to be, remember?"
He cuffed me on the shoulder and shouting "Let's go!" dashed of jogging with me soon in hot pursuit and finally overtaking him. Always good to exercise and a super way to cement what had become, by then, a simply friendship. My impressions that night had proven right. He's a georgeous kid, just georgeous. Too bad he had no one in his life, apparently, and a career aspiration that is a one chance in a milion
I'll admit it, though. That whole night, it was some kind of birthday even if it was late and very belated. Couldn't help but hope my friend remember for next year, though I've no idea what had possessed him. Still . . . Time to move to Los Angeles?
Again, truth is stranger than fiction - now especially so in Los Angeles, California!
As for the boy, he's written and called several times. . ..