I have been in communication with a young English lad by the name of John. We talk of many subjects, and over the year have become very close friends. I extended an invitation for him and his younger brother Patrick to visit me in the states. Summer was but a few weeks away, so school would not be a hindrance.
I've had some success as a writer, and made a fairly decent amount of money. So, I arranged for them to fly across on the Concord. This would ensure swift arrival without the problems of jet lag. Of course they would have to take a smaller flight to me, since the Concerd is limited to a few airports that can support a plane of this magnitude.
The flight arrived on a Saturday morning, meaning the boys would be with me for slightly over a week, as they'd be leaving on a Monday. I was very excited to meet John after a year of keeping in touch by emails, and a few live chats He had just turned fifteen, his brother thirteen. My nephew was fourteen, and my neighbor had four kids of varying ages, so if I had a hard time keeping them entertained, they'd have other options. I was slightly nervous, for although I'd been called upon to watch children before, never in the role of sole caregiver. Parenting was never something I'd ever thought of, and here in a way was what I was doing.
I could scarcely concentrate on the book I'd brought along, when the loudspeaker announced that the boy's flight had arrived. I walked over to the door, as the passengers disembarked. As is the custom of most airlines, kids unescorted are usually the first. Although I had no idea what either boy sounded like, the arguing voices that came down the hall convinced me it was them, their accents being a secondary clue. John had told me much of their relationship. Like most siblings, there was great love, and great discord. Discord seemed to be ruling at the moment. The stewardess followed them through, a much relieved look upon her face as I strode forward, a large smile on mine.
"John", I said aloud, pitching my voice so I was not yelling, but simply topping theirs in volume to capture their attention. There argument ground to a halt. John took several seconds to realize it was me, and then with a jouyous grin threw his arms around me. Now, I said we'd become friends, but I was momentarily taken aback by this overwhelming display of affection. After a few moments I wrapped my arms around him, returning his bearhug. He then began a tirade of hellos, how are you, and a mile a minute description of how things were with him, details tripping over each other. Patrick stood there quietly, looking like a lost pup.
Patrick is taller than John by a good five inches, that accentuates his thin body which probably tops 100 lbs, which makes him somewhat gawky. He has black hair, and lovely blue eyes, though he has a serious demeanor quite strange for a boy his age. In contrast, John is about five feet, weighing about 112 lbs, slim, tousled sandy blond hair, and possessing the same beautiful blue eyes, although not pure blue, a shade of green mixed in. He beams with a youthful exuberance that draws me to younger people, helping to remind me life only slightly sucks.
I once again quieted John, as I didn't wish Patrick to feel like a third wheel. John told me Patrick was happy to get to make the trip, but it took a lot of cajoling to get him to finally agree. I greeted him, shook hands, and began a dialogue of innocuous questions to start the ball rolling. I even had him sit up front with me so that whilst John and I spoke, he'd not feel abandoned. By the end of the fifty-five minute drive, he was a tad more vocal, having even smiled at one of my worst jokes. John rolled about the back seat like a man in fits for nearly two minutes. I glanced back, and rolled my eyes in a what's wrong with this guy look, and a quiet but huge grin split Patrick's stone visage.
We arrived at my place and I quickly went about settling the boys in. I live in a converted basement apartment, the upper floors being a business, so for most of the time I'm by myself in the building and don't have to worry about privacy, or disturbing my neighbors with too much noise. The perfect situation for two rambunctious boys. In fact, it was closed for three weeks, so the boys could indulge themselves too the fullest. In the first fifteen minutes I had to restrain the boys from bashing each other senseless, though the fights weren't in earnest. Patrick let slip with one of the more popular four letter words, and froze in instant terror. This sort of behavior would earn him a number of licks with a wooden spoon were his Mum present. I informed them that sometimes a choice expletive is needed, and that the rules here were generally more lax. Patrick grinned once again, I'm sure thinking that perhaps his brother wouldn't be running rough shod over him the whole trip.
I showed them the couch bed that would be there resting place for the week, settled their belongings in, and then showed them the many things for them to amuse themselves, including my 100 capacity CD player, my computer ( well stock with games), and my extensive collection of movies on tape.
"Any porno", Patrick questioned, sounding like an English professor rather than a teenager. "Uh, no, I don't really care for that sort of thing myself ", I replied. "Pity", he said, surveying my collection as if it were some ancient monument.
I discussed food choices for them, and left them to amuse themselves as I went shopping. To my chagrin when I arrived, clever little Patrick had accessed the web, and found a porno site. Now I'm no prude, but this was really crude stuff, and though I think we shouldn't necessarily hide things from children to a point, these were not my kids, and it's hard enough on a parent to monitor them. Especially since the adult supervisors were some thousands of miles away.
"This won't do", I announced, startling both boys. I explained that this was a normal curiosity for boys, but I felt not truly appropriate. Both boys were nonplused regardless, happy at my opinion, but still having been caught at it. Patrick excused himself, and made a beeline for the bathroom. John seemed to suddenly realize what was happening, and attempted to beat him inside. Arguments insued as the door slammed shut. More loud words, then eerie silence. I was somewhat concerned. Now I'm pretty savvy, but for the moment I buzzed, and caution overrode what should have been obvious. And so in genuine concern, I opened the door, to find both boys, pants and underwear down, stroking themselves as if life depended on it.
I'm not usually embarrassed, but this was as I said unexpected. John turned a deep crimson, though his efforts did not abate. Patrick was lost in a sea of sensual pleasure, not even aware I was there. I grinned, and quickly left them to that which boys do. When they came out they both had a hang dog look, unsure of my possible reaction. I simply asked if they'd cleaned up after themselves, and on assurance that they did, let the matter drop. I mean I'm in my thirties, but I still have a go with myself, so I certainly wasn't going to give them grief about it. Patrick seemed to come alive more in what he was perceiving as a non repressed environment.
Things went swimmingly for the first few days. Fun abounded and Patrick became a whole new person, enjoying himself and not at all feeling like a little brother who tagged along with his older siblings and his mate. Many days he'd wear himself out, falling asleep as the three of us watched endless movies from my collection. This was nice as it afforded John and I time to converse, cementing out friendship further, without making his young brother feel left out.
On the third day, I had some business of my own to take care of, although it was only to be a few hours, I didn't want the boys to get bored. I took them across the street to meet my neighbor's kids. There was one Patrick's age, so he was happy. John was over the moon as he was invited to hang with the oldest brother and his mates, all who were sixteen and seventeen. After ascertaining what their individual plans were, I instructed them to return by six o'clock before any thing that night was to take place. John arrived first choosing to stay with me that night, but Patrick decided instead to sleep over with my neighbors sons.
John and I went out for pizza, and returned home to view some more films when there came a knock at the door. There stood my neighbor, with Patrick, who refused to meet my gaze.
Hoping that this was not bad news, but knowing my optimism was likely to take a blow, I addressed my neighbor.
"Eric, what's up"?
"I don't want to make a big deal of this, but I caught Patrick teaching my boy how to masturbate." I quickly commanded my brain to stomp on the grin, and suppress the giggle that was even now fighting it's way up . Four boys, and with that look of disapproval that would do the pope proud, my neighbor stood there as if he'd been told for the first time that the moon revolves around us, and not the other way around. I was seriously tempted to inform him that his kids, at least the two oldest were probably pros by now, but one more look at his aggrieved countenance, and that plan died a screaming death. Attempting to implace a look of extreme consternation, combined with a disapproving scowl, I apologized for the indecency, and ordered Patrick inside. I thanked Eric for his forbearance, and assured him the situation would be dealt with. Once inside, and completely sure that Eric was out of ear shot, burst into uproarious laughter. Patrick stared a me as if I'd lost my mind. I explained my views, and after calming John who was convinced that due to his brothers actions he would no longer be welcome across the street, the boys and I went to finish watching the film.
Patrick as usual fell quickly asleep, and soon snuggled up against me. During our conversation John laid his head on my shoulder, and he too soon dozed off. I tend to sleep very little, and was trying to debate on whether I should disturb them, or spend many hours trapped. But as I laid there, watching the concluding minutes of the film, I felt their hearts, gentling beating beneath their skinny chests, and a feeling of calm and maternal love swelled within me. Before I realized it, there was early morning light spilling beneath the curtains at the head of the bed. Though fully dressed, both boys were pressed firmly against me for warmth, their hair tickling my face. That feeling of contentment and warmth stole over me, so I closed my eyes, letting sleep take me again.
I was roused later by the boys shouting at each other, and awoke feeling tired. This is what happens if I get too much sleep. I tried to recapture the wonderful feelings I'd been experiencing earlier, as their raised voices reminded me of why I never wanted children.
Both boys stood in the kitchen, stripped down to their underwear, arguing about who would bathe first, as whomever went second would decide which tv program they'd watch. This quickly devolved into a wrestling match. John's superior strength, was matched by Patrick's height which afforded him better balance. They groaned and struggled, neither giving an inch It reminded me of an ancient Roman statue depicting wrestlers. Since it seemed that neither was going to win, insults sprinkled with a great many colorful metaphors, joined the contest. Ah well, I mused, so much for peace.
I opened the drawer, and withdrew a metal spatula, with a flat but overwide head. Since John was the closest, he was target prime. A gave him a quick slap upon his left cheek, which launched him into the air, and sent Patrick sprawling. I could tell he was upset, but as he watched his brother jump around rubbing his butt, it dawned on him what had taken place, and a smile replaced whatever was forthcoming. Patrick began to giggle as he arose from the floor. I could see in John's eyes a hint of murderous intent, and inquired if he'd like five more to finish. He took on a look of pure innocence, declining said offer. With that I packed him off to the showers, and his little brother and I sat down to breakfast.
When John was finished I instructed Patrick to go shower, and as John walked by, Patrick in his new spirit of freedom snatched his brothers towel away. I sat there feeling the vein in my forehead as they wrestled loudly for it. I could see the dim outline on John's young tight cheek where I whacked him with the spatula. Finally John gave up, releasing the towel to Patrick's control. The competition over, Patrick dropped it and with a smirk headed for the bathroom. John snuck up behind him, yanked down his underwear and pinched Patrick's thin buttocks with enough force to bring a howl of pain.
"You _f_u_c_k_er," Patrick yelled, launching himself at John. John sidestepped him and snatched up his towel, preparing it for use as a weapon. It's amazing how fast one can move when necessary. I had Patrick off his feet, and carried him to the bathroom, shoving his now naked form through he door, and slamming it behind him. His voice carried several more expletives until drowned out by the noise of the shower.
I looked over at John, who stood there grinning, also naked. I admired his thin tight body, trying to remember if I ever looked that good.
"Go get dressed." As he shuffled by. I snatched the towel, and gave him a shot on the buttocks. I was rat-tail champion at camp. So occasionally I'm evil, sue me.
Whilst Patrick was at least cleaning himself, if not his language, the boys from across the street invited them out. This was fortuitous as I had to use one day, to finish a project that was due the following week. When Patrick was finally showered and it seemed sufficiently calm, we all discussed it. The younger boys wanted him to biking with them.
"Great," announced John, a mocking tone prevalent. "Now you can show us how _s_e_x_y you look in your bike shorts."
Patrick's face turned ashen, then quickly red. I knew why. He didn't like wearing them. I wasn't sure if it was because they accentuated his tall, skinny frame, or if they perhaps gave notice to another part of the anatomy. It's amazing how we're embarrassed by our own penises at a young age, but are thrilled by the fullness, or great length as we get older. Well, no one ever said we weren't mental.
"Why don't you guys wait at your house, and I'll send Patrick out when he's ready." They all agreed, and turned to leave. I stopped John and whispered, "Remind me to spank you later." He grinned as he could obviously tell from my tone I wasn't serious, though he made a great show of dodging the mock blow I aimed at his butt.
Patrick stood there, once again the frightened, noncommunative lad I'd first encountered. "You don't have to wear them if you don't want to," I said softly. "I personally think it's no big deal, but then I don't have to wear them. You do as you like."
He looked up at me, as if I was the second coming, and threw his arms around my neck. After an embrace that would have killed lesser men with it's intensity, he scrambled for his suitcase, and grabbed to my shock, his bicycle pants. Unmindful of my prescense (though with their shinanigans, I'd already seen them both nude) He stripped down, and with practiced ease, slid them up his skinny flanks. They actually gave his gaunt frame, a bit of solidity, making him seem more musculer. I pointed this out, and was once more on the receiving end of a killer hug.
With the boys present, I'd neglected my emails for a few days, and so spent time dealing with them. As I was preparing to put the finishing touches on the chapters I'd promised to my agent, my friend Sarah flagged me, and hence I spent two hours rambling online with her. By the time the guys arrived back home, I'd only just begun to start upon the work that needed completion.
I instructed them to busy themselves, allowing me to get done that which I needed. They went off into the other room, already beginning to annoy each other. I ignored the clamor they created, putting all my efforts into my work. I had paused to read back a paragraph, frowning at how stupid it sounded. My attention was now free, and I heard Patrick's trade mark curse when he gets upset at John, followed by several slaps as the boys went at each other. I was about to ask for peace when Patrick yelled no, in a voice that was a portent of disaster. As I turned around, John's hand was extended, and Patrick was ducking back.
I was barely out of my seat, whan the mixed sounds of shattering porcelain, and something heavy impacting with the wall reached me. I bolted into the living room, my first thought, worry for the boys safety. As it became apparent both boys were fine, I quickly surveyed the room for the source of the noise.
A very important vase that sat on the mantel above the fireplace, now lay in many pieces. The wall also had a considerable dent in it. My answering machine lay upon the floor, the telltale mark of dust from the wall marking it as the object responsible. Anger surged through me. I looked to both boys, the color draining from their faces. I couldn't appreciate what my countenance held at that moment, but from their panicked expressions, I'm sure it was truly fierce.
"Go sit down," I commanded. My voice terribly quiet, and unforcefull, given the current state of my emotions. The boys moved slowly, afraid of what actions I might take. I waited till they were sitting, and again calm, despite my turmoil, ask what had happened. In true fashion, each tripped over each other in an attempt to color the events in their favor. When it devolved into accusations, instead of helpful facts, I silenced them. "Do not move from that spot," I said, my teeth clenched in anger. I walked from the room, and sat down at my computer, staring at the screen, my mind elsewhere.
I was in that state where I'm totally absorbed in my thoughts, and sometimes lose track of time. I was brought from my reverie, by a soft touch upon my shoulder. John stood there, holding a mug in his hands. Being both English, in times of crisis, we turn to a cup of tea. I was calmer, but still angry. However, I'd not let that totally consume me, so I thanked him. He decided this was a good opening for apologizing, or perhaps begging if things went badly.
"Vince, we really sorry! We'll pay for it, and do whatever else you want...... we're really sorry!" I stilled his protestations with a wave of my hand, and gestured for him to sit.
"Patrick, come here please." Even as I finished saying his name, he strode forward, quite probably there the whole time in case John needed an extra voice for support. Both boys sat upon the bed, looks of hopefulness crisscrossing with ones of worry. I didn't realize it, but as I had sat there, the whole thing had worked itself out in my mind.
"Look. Yes I'm upset about the vase. It's not the expense, it's what it meant to me. It was very special. But, of even greater concern, was that you could have hurt each other. John, you and Patrick have been knocking each other about all week. Your brothers, and your boys, so I've been tolerant of it all. But this was well out of order. You could have done Patrick serious damage."
John glanced over to his brother, concern showing on his face. He touched Patrick's arm, endeavoring to apologize for his transgressions. Patrick gave back a glance of forgiveness, tinged with the look of complicity in this whole stupid affair.
"Now, at home, I know what would happen to the two of you, but that's not the sort of thing I'm about." Both boys looked thoughtful. They both knew that a fight of this magnitude, would get them severely spanked. They would both be placed bare assed over a knee, their bottoms soon to be glowing red.
"I just don't know what to do. You still have six days left. I don't want this to cast a pall over your whole holiday, but how am I going to just let this go?"
The boys were shifting uncomfortably, their contemplation's private from me. They looked to each other, unspoken thoughts trading back and forth. Finally John spoke up.
"We really are truly sorry. What we did was stupid, and thoughtless, and showed a great deal of disrespect for your home and you." I raised an eyebrow, waiting for more. "Also, Patrick could have been seriously hurt." He paused, the next part obviously tasking some effort to say. "I think....., we think, that you should........."
"Spank us," spoke Patrick, concluding his brothers unfinished statement.
Well, there it was. Now, the problem. In theory, I have nothing against spanking, if done reasonably, and for proper cause. I think most boys probably do something to deserve one, and perhaps should be treated to one once in their life, just to be reminded of the proper way to act. I cared enough about these boys to do it for them, but in my heart, I knew that it would change our relationship forever. I had wanted the boys to go back with happy memories only. Again, I must have disappeared into that realm where only my mind exists. God, these boys were patient. At last I resolved what actions would take place.
"Ok. I agree with you, your actions merit a spanking. And though I'm not happy to have to do this, at least we can get it over, and start over from scratch. But, I'm warning you now, it will be by my judgement, and won't be some token swats. And, once begun, it won't end till I'm satisfied. Is that understood?"
Both boys nodded slowly, knowing that this was the final walk down the hall, to where their butts would pay the price. I leaned over, hugging both to me. They threw their arms around me, once again begging my forgiveness, and saying that it was what they wanted. I hugged then fiercely, then drew back, placing a hand on both their cheeks, looking into those beautiful soulful eyes.
"Go out and wait in the living room. I'll call you when I'm ready." I'm sure those were the longest five minutes of their lives. " Guys, come here please."
They strolled in, their bodies rigid as if they'd come too fast their bodies would shatter. Neither coming to close, not wanting to be first, so I cleared it up for them.
"John, your first." He came forward, nodding his head in compliance, freezing in his tracks as see saw the shower brush sitting next to me. It is large, plastic, with a flat head. I reached over gently, pulling him toward me. I began to undo the snaps on his jeans, then stopped, in deference to his pride. He half heartedly finished the job, lowering his pants to his knees. He placed his hands on the tops of his underwear, looking to me to see if they should join his trousers. I guided him across my lap, letting him settle himself comfortably. I place my hand on his strong, youthful buttocks, which quivered in silent anticipation. "I'm sorry."
With that I began to swiftly rain blows upon his upraised backside, covering all portions of it. He began to jerk and wiggle, but never tried to remove his stinging posterior from the punishment he had earned. After a minute, and at least fifty five well placed swats, I ceased the spanking of my young friend. He was sobbing quietly, as I rubbed his back, trying to comfort him. He rose slowly as if to leave my lap. I allowed him to do so, but only so that he was kneeling before me. I shook my head, to let him know that unfortunately, his thrashing had not yet been completed. I directed him back over my lap, lowering his underwear, exposing his reddened backside. My heart was heavy, but I'd committed myself to giving them what they wanted, and perhaps needed, so that things could be returned to normal.
I picked up the brush, and brought it down upon his glowing rump. I gave him six on each cheek, then twelve to each side, aiming low where the buttocks meets with the leg. I then maneuvered his legs wider, so that his muscles tightened, making the two halves stand out and separate. I then spanked the inside of each cheek, aiming at a angle, not striking downward. I delivered thirty to each side. By this time Johns silent tears were now a loud cry in reaction to each blow, but never a cry for mercy. I was sure that now, he would feel this paddling no matter how he moved.
I let him slide from my lap, joining him upon the floor, and holding him to me so that he was leaning against me, keeping his freshly spanked butt from touching the floor. I gently rocked him, allowing him to cry out his pain. I kissed him upon the forehead, assuring him that it was over, and that all was well. Finally, as his sobs subsided, I helped him to his feet. I glanced over at Patrick. He was standing there, tears already forming in his eyes, as his mind dwelled upon the ordeal yet to come.
I left John as I resumed my seat on the bed, putting out my hand towards Patrick. He came forward, tears spilling down his cheeks. As with his brother, I placed him over my knee, letting him settle himself, and apologizing for what was to come. With that done, I blazed away at his skinny backside, spanking him for a full minute as I'd done to his older sibling. Patrick was more vocal than was John, his cries echoing each swat. I stood him up, and gingerly pulled his clingy bicycle pants down and off. Though taller than John, now naked I noticed for the first time, his smaller penis, and his lack of pubic hair. I lowered my head to hide a smile, as I remembered a joke John had made about his brothers "lack of pubes."
I then gave him the same treatment as his brother, striking the same areas for maximum affect. Because he was younger, and thinner, his complete buttocks had been easier to cover in the initial spanking. I gave him ten less that John with the brush. He slid from my lap, onto his knees. I held him to me, comforting him as I'd done with John. Once his sobs had subsided, I stood him up, and walked him over to his brother.
"Get dressed, we have the rest of your holiday to enjoy." Both boys smiled despite their puffy tear filled faces. They then hugged each other, and I warrent no force in the universe could have pried them apart. "So, shall we go out to eat, or would your butts prefer home delivery."
Three days later, the boys prepared to board, after many hugs, and assurances that multiple emails would be forthcoming, including ones in the future for Patrick.
"Both of you be good, or I'll fly over there and skin two inches off both your backsides, " I said, crushing them both to me. I kiss them both gently upon their cheek, and sent them teary eyed once again, as they walked slowly down the long hallway to the plane that would take them back out of my life. I walked out into the humid summer night, my heart heavy, but my soul lighter.