Author's Note: Unlike most of my stories on this archive; this one isn't based on anything other than a photograph that was posted over at boyspank. com. As usual, comments are very much appreciated.
Josh Pressler was leaning over the water fountain just outside the cafeteria at Southfork Middle School when he overheard something that gave him chills.
"Hey, you hear about Hatch's mother?"
Josh couldn't identify the voice right off, but it didn't matter. Pretending to drink the room temperature water that was streaming out under his face, he listened intently to the conversation.
"What about her?"
"She's gone nuts, man. They had to ship her out to the loony bin."
"No kidding! Where'd you hear that?"
"It's all over the school. Can't believe you haven't heard yet. Where have you been?"
The gossiping boys moved out of earshot and Josh stood up. His hands were shaking and he put them in the pockets of his jeans to hide them. He had _f_u_c_k_ed up royally.
Andrew Hatch was his best friend and had been since they were seven years old. Josh had noticed Mrs. Hatch's increasingly erratic behavior and Andy had been spending more and more time at Josh's house, but it wasn't until yesterday that he'd fully understood what was going on. Andrew had told him everything; his mother was suffering from clinical depression and his father had finally had to send her away to get help. Mr. Hatch had apparently done his best to assure Andrew that this was nothing to be ashamed of, but for the sake of everyone they were telling people that she had gone to visit her mother for a few months. Andrew had told Josh the whole story because he trusted him, and now Josh had betrayed that trust.
It hadn't been deliberate. He'd been chatting with Malcolm Simons that morning before Math and the other boy had remarked that Andrew hadn't been his usual self lately. Without thinking, Josh said that he wouldn't be either if his mother had just been institutionalized. Malcolm's eyes had lit up and immediately began probing for details. Josh begged him not to say anything and Malcolm agreed only if Josh would tell him everything. Very foolishly, Josh had believed him. He was only twelve years old and sometimes wasn't fast under pressure.
Now it was clear that Malcolm had lied. He should have known better than to trust the skinny twerp. Feeling sick to his stomach, he made his way to the lockers.
Andrew had the locker adjacent to his and was there already, rapidly shoving his books inside. No one was saying anything to him, but everyone was standing around looking at him and those at the fringes of the crowd were whispering amongst themselves; no doubt filling in those few who had not yet heard the story.
"Andrew," Josh began as he unslung his backpack from his shoulder and approached the other boy.
Andrew whipped his head around and looked fire at Josh. The blonde-hared boy had never seen a look like that on his friend's face; a combination of rage, hurt and betrayal. Josh could see the other boy was fighting to hold back tears. He slammed his locker shut and stomped down the hall toward the door.
"Andrew, wait!" Josh said, feeling dangerously close to crying himself. He spun the combination lock as fast as he could and deposited his books inside his locker. Trotting after his friend, he passed a grinning Malcolm Simons.
"You stupid jerk!" he snapped at the creep.
"Hey, you're the one that leaked the story, Pressler!" Malcolm laughed. Josh wanted nothing more than to slug the beanpole at that point, but he had more important things to take care off. He barged through the main doors and spotted Andrew on his bike, rapidly pedaling away from the building. As quickly as possible, he freed his own bike and gave chase.
He didn't catch him; Andrew had longer legs and a faster bike. One thing was clear though; the other boy wasn't headed home just yet. He'd been riding in the wrong direction for that. Josh pulled up next to a lamppost to think.
He took off his blue baseball cap and tucked his blonde hair up under it. Even thought it was short, he hated when his bangs hung down over his forehead. Obviously he'd hurt Andrew very deeply. More than anything, Josh wanted to take back his blabbing words, but it was too late. His father had taught him that he must own up to his mistakes and make them right as soon as possible. He didn't know how he was going to do this with Andrew, but he was going to try.
Since Andrew wasn't going home, he must be going to their fort. While it was something they'd both built, Josh sometimes liked to go there alone when he needed to think and he knew Andrew did the same. Pedaling slowly, he went to find his friend.
The fort was in an undeveloped tract a few blocks away from where Andrew and Josh lived. There was a path to it, but no one but the two boys ever seemed to use it. As Josh got near the site, he saw Andrew's bike leaning against a tree. Carefully placing his own bike next to it, Josh walked over to the ramshackle structure and went inside. Andrew was leaning against the back wall, throwing pebbles across the dirt floor. From the look on his face, it was clear that he'd been crying, but he'd stopped for the moment.
"Andrew?" Josh began his voice quavering.
"What do you want, dickhead?" Andrew growled at him.
"I want to say I'm sorry," he replied, feeling tears beginning to form in the corners of his cobalt blue eyes.
"Sorry!" Andrew snorted. "Yea, big deal. It's easy for you to be sorry. It's not your mother everyone is talking about."
"It just slipped out! I swear, I didn't mean to say anything."
"I thought I could trust you, man!" Andrew said, his voice breaking as fresh tears came to his eyes, "I thought you were my best friend!"
"I am!" Josh said in a pleading voice, "Please, I want to make it right!"
"Oh, now how are you going to do that!" Andrew sounded angry now. Josh withered under his friend's hostility. Still, it was a fair question. What could he do? Everyone knew the story, there would be no chance of pretending that it had been a lie.
Andrew had picked up a stick and was looking down at the ground, doodling in the dirt. Josh sat and thought. He remembered the last time he'd felt this bad inside. He'd wanted to go to a movie, but he'd spent his allowance for the week. Acting very out of character, he'd pinched five dollars from his Dad's dresser to pay for the ticket. The movie had been good, but he hadn't enjoyed it. He'd felt too guilty. The guilt had grown over the next couple of days until it threatened to overwhelm him. Finally, he'd gone to his father and confessed. He'd been severely spanked, but along with the pain had come a sense of relief that he'd paid for his crime and everything was right again. If only there was a way to do that now with Andrew. Well, perhaps there was...
"Andrew?" he said again. His dark-hared friend looked up at him. His eyes were still full of hostility, but at least there was an opening there.
"I know how bad I _f_u_c_k_ed up and I think...I think I should be spanked for it."
"Your Dad's not going to spank you just for shooting your big, fat mouth off," Andrew muttered.
"No, but...maybe you should."
Andrew started in surprise. His green eyes searched Josh's blue ones.
"You're kidding," he said.
"No, I'm not," Josh said in a rush. "I know how bad I screwed up. You're my best friend and I did something that hurt you real bad and I...I think I should be spanked really hard and you should be the one to do it."
He could see that Andrew wasn't totally convinced and so he played his trump card.
"You can even make me take my clothes off."
"Even your underwear?" Andrew sounded more amazed than anything else. Josh looked down and the ground and nodded.
"All right, big mouth. If you're serious, prove it. Take your shirt and pants off."
Josh untied his shoes and kicked them off. Then he lifted his cap off and put it down next to them. Taking hold of his white T-shirt, he pulled it over his head and hung it on a nail. He and Andrew were the same height, but Josh had a slimmer build and his fair skin had a scattering of freckles that his friend did not. With trembling hands, he unsnapped his jeans and pushed them down his thighs. When they were off, he looked back at Andrew for further instructions. With some misgivings, he noticed that the other boy was holding half of a wooden roof shingle in his hand. Andrew caught his look and held it up.
"What, did you think I was going to beat your butt with my hand?" he asked. In fact, that was what Josh had thought. He also hadn't expected that Andrew would make him take his briefs off; his father usually didn't. Still, he supposed he deserved it.
"Lose the socks and the underpants, Josh. I think you should be completely naked."
Josh obeyed, stripping of the last of his clothes and standing uncertainly in front of Andrew. The boys had seen each other naked often enough, but never in circumstances like this. Josh was fair anyway, but his butt was so pale it almost glowed in the broken light that streamed into the fort. He shivered, partly from the crisp cool of the Virginia December weather, but also because of the firm way Andrew was holding his makeshift paddle. Josh had never been spanked totally naked before and he'd never felt so vulnerable. Andrew had stretched out his legs and was leaning against a support post.
"Get down and lie across my legs, Josh," he ordered.
Not fast, but not slowly either, Josh got into position. He wanted to show Andrew that he was doing this willingly, if not eagerly. There were some old beach towels on the ground and Josh arranged them so his face would not be in the dirt. He lay down and felt the stiff fabric of his friend's jeans against his hairless _c_o_c_k_. Josh wondered if he should tell Andrew that he was ready, but figured the way he'd offered up his bare bottom should make it obvious. He did expect some sort of warning, though and was caught off guard when he didn't get one.
WHACK! Josh yelped in sudden pain as the rough wood smacked his skin, leaving a stinging zone of heat on his right cheek.
WHACK! Another yelp as his left cheek felt the bite of the shingle, too. Andrew wasn't saying anything, but in this case, actions spoke louder than words. For somewhat who'd never done it before, he was proving to be a very adept spanker. Over and over the hard wood smacked against Josh's bare bottom. At first he was crying out only as he was hit, but soon the burning in his rear became a constant pain and each new blow intensified it. He started to cry in earnest, but Andrew showed no sings of slowing down. Josh began to beg.
Please! WHACK! Please, it hurts, WHACK! Owww, no more, please! WHACK!!
The fact that he could end this at any time never occurred to Josh. He'd submitted to this spanking and would have to take whatever Andrew felt he deserved. And he obviously felt he deserved more. Josh gave up pleading and was reduced to a loud wail that intensified in pitch every time the shingle connected with his blazing backside. He had no idea how long it had gone on but it seemed like forever. Just when he'd think it couldn't get any worse, another spank would come to prove him wrong. At last the other boy decided he'd had enough and he put down the shingle.
For a few seconds, Josh didn't realize that Andrew had stopped. He kept anticipating new spanks to fall on his blistered buns. It wasn't until he felt the other boy's hand gently rubbing his abused cheeks that he understood it was over. Marshaling his remaining strength, he pushed up with his arms and got into a sitting position facing Andrew.
"I'm sorry, Andrew," he said through hitches of breath. Through his watery vision, he thought it looked like Andrew was crying again too.
"It's O. K. now, Josh," the other boy said as he pulled him into a rough embrace, "You don't have to say you're sorry again. I know you are."
"Are we still best friends?" Josh asked as he wiped his nose on the back of his hand. The two boys were cheek to cheek and he didn't want to drip on Andrew's shoulder.
"Josh, you're my best friend in the whole world. I....are you mad at me for spanking you so hard?"
"No, man," Josh said as they separated. "I deserved all of that. I know it's not the same, but I wanted to make things even."
"Are you going to get dressed now?"
"Not yet. These jeans are kinda small and they'll hurt my butt. I want to let it cool down some first."
For the rest of the afternoon, the two friends sat there talking, one naked and the other dressed. They made plans to pound Malcolm for spreading the story over school, talked about their plans for the weekend and what movies they hoped to see. They also talked about the spanking and without any uncomfortableness and embarrassment on either part. It was now part of their friendship, a defining pillar of the sort of close relationship that only young boys can know. Eventually Josh got chilly and put his clothes back on. When the shadows grew long, the two boys rode home and none of the people who they passed noticed that one boy was sitting on his bicycle seat while the other was standing on his pedals. And if they had, they would have never understood.
The End