Woody just grinned, and handed the man a twenty-dollar bill. Waiting for his change, he looked at me and said, "I'll pay for it."
I'd never seen Woody with more than a dollar on him. Now, here he was handing the clerk a twenty! Instantly, my radar went up, after all, it was Woody. I'd seen to much that he'd gotten involved within the past and while I wasn't sure where he got the money, I was certain it meant trouble. "Where'd you get twenty bucks, Woody?" I asked, trying to put my eyes back into my head.
"It's ok, Bobby" he said, giving that little wink. "I earned it fair and square."
"Yeah?" I asked "Where would you earn twenty bucks?"
"I got a job," he answered with an indignant tone in his voice.
"Oh sure, who'd hire a twelve-year-old," I asked with great sarcasm.
"Don't worry about it," he said, sticking his hand out for the change. I stood there quietly watching as Woody stuffed the wad of bills into his pocket.
Handing me the coke he had paid for, he said, "enjoy."
Leaving the counter, we made our way outside and sat at the concrete table to drink our soda's. "Ok," I asked. "What's the job?"
"Don't worry about it," he said. "I'll tell you later." Changing the subject, he added, "Come on, lets go over to the playground," and walked away. I quickly forgot about "his job" and fell in step behind him.
Nothing more was said about his "job" over the next few weeks. Still, he always seemed to have a few dollars in his pocket and I was beginning to get very curious. Maybe, I could get a job too. After all, I could sure use the extra money. My 50-cent weekly allowance didn't buy much and I was determined to find out where Woody was working.
On Saturday morning I got up and hurriedly dressed. Skipping breakfast, I grabbed my bike and sped toward Woody's house hoping to get there before he left for "work." I'd remembered that he worked every Saturday morning and today I was going to follow him and see just where it was that he went.
Across the street from his house was a park and I hid behind a bunch of trees to wait for him to leave. A couple of minutes later, his front door opened and I saw him make his way toward the opposite corner from where I was hiding. I was just getting ready to ride after him, so I wouldn't lose him, when he walked up to the corner house and rang the door bell. I couldn't see who answered the door from where I was standing, but Woody went inside. I decided to wait for him to come back out.
Forty-five minutes later, the door opened and Woody emerged from the house and walked slowly toward his home. I watched intently, wondering what he had been doing in that house to earn twenty bucks. After getting back home, he didn't go inside but made a quick detour to the side of the house to a spot where he couldn't be seen from inside. From my vantage point I could see everything he did though, and I saw him rub his butt with both hands. Then his hand went into his front pocket and produced what appeared to be a dollar bill. He examined the bill for a minute before stuffing it back into his pocket and going inside.
My mind raced with all sorts of questions. Clearly, the house across the street was the source of his income. But, what did he have to do to make twenty bucks in forty-five minutes. More importantly, could I do I too?
That afternoon he came over to my house and we headed off to the park to hangout. There wasn't anyone at the park so we just laid down under a tree and started talking. Eventually, I saw my chance and asked, "So, are you still working?"
"Yeah," he answered, seeming surprised that I asked.
"Did you work today?" I asked.
"Yes," he replied.
"This morning?" I pushed.
"Why all the questions, Bobby?" he asked, without responding to my question.
"Well, I was just thinking, Woody," I began. "I could sure use the extra money you get, and I wonder if I could work with you?"
Woody grinned for a moment then said, "Well, one thing is for certain, you could certainly use the work," and started chuckling.
"I'm serious Woody," I said. "I know where you went this morning, I saw you go into the house across the street."
Woody got really quiet and just looked at me, as if he was struggling with something. "You saw me?" he asked.
"I got up early and hid in the trees across the street," I answered. "I wanted to see where you went to work so I could get a job there too."
"You watched me?" he gasped. "How long were you there?"
"I saw you go in and I saw you come out about forty-five minutes later holding a twenty-dollar bill," I answered.
"Oh, Christ," Woody mumbled, looking out into the distance.
"Come on Woody, Do you think I could work there too?" I pushed.
Woody just stood there for a moment not saying anything. "Well?" I asked. "Do you?"
"Sure you could, Bobby," he finally said. "I think I could work it out. But, you've got to promise not to tell anyone."
"I won't tell anyone," I said.
"No, you have to promise me," he insisted. "Promise on a stack of bibles that you won't tell a sole about it!"
"Why?" I asked, wondering what the big need for secrecy was.
"Promise?" he repeated.
"Yeah, sure, I promise I won't tell anyone," I said, relenting.
"Well, you know the guy who owns the Burger Time on main street?" He began.
"Yeah, I think so," I said.
Woody hesitated for a moment then said, "well, he pays me twenty bucks to let him spank me."
I stood there dumbfounded, not certain that I heard him correctly, I said, "What?"
"You heard me, he pays me twenty bucks and I let him spank me," Woody repeated, turning a little red in the face.
"He gives you a real spanking?" I said in disbelief.
"Well, its not as bad as what my Dad gives me, but it still hurts." He explained.
"No _s_h_i_t_?" I said in amazement, and started giggling. "What does he do?"
"He beats my butt, what do you think he does?" Woody answered indignantly.
"Do you cry?" I asked.
"Do you cry when you get a spanking?" He asked, with a glare.
"Sure I do!" I said honestly.
"Well, me too!"
We both sat silently for a few minutes, each trying to gather our thoughts before continuing. All I could do was imagine Woody draped across this guys lap getting a spanking. The thought triggered something deep down inside me and I realized that my _c_o_c_k_ had gotten hard and was being pinched uncomfortably between the folds in my jeans.
Woody was the first to break the silence. "Do you think I'm weird?" He asked, looking at the ground.
Shifting to give my erection a little more room, I replied, "No, I don't think you are weird, Woody," and suddenly burst into an uncontrollable fit of giggles.
Woody just turned a deeper shade of red, he was not laughing. I finally got myself back under control and said, "Actually, I think you ought to be getting a spanking every week."
Woody was really embarrassed by his admission. I guess he misread my reaction to what he told me and his embarrassment turned to anger. "God _d_a_m_n_ it, Bobby!" he hissed, "It's not funny. I just do it to make some money. I'm not a weirdo or anything."
"Really, Woody," I said. "I don't think you're weird."
"Oh sure, You probably think I'm nuts," he said, in a dejected tone.
"Listen Woody," I said. "Does this look like I think you are weird?" I put both hands in my crotch to accentuate the erection hidden under my clothes.
Woody's eyes moved toward my crotch and he sat there looking at the bulge in my pants, not understanding what it meant. Slowly, a grin spread across his face as he realized that I was excited by the idea of getting a spanking. "You sure you still want the job?" He asked.
"Absolutely!" I said, shaking my head up and down.
"I suppose I better tell you about what he does before you get yourself into something that is more than you are looking for." Woody said thoughtfully.
"I have a better idea, if you're up to it," I said, as an evil grin spread across my face.
"Something Better?" I asked. My interest grew by the moment.
"Well," I began, hesitating a little and fumbling to get it out. "We could....ah....we might...._s_h_i_t_, we could....practice a little first...." I finally managed to get out. I sat there holding my breath watching Woody's reaction to what I had just said.
"What do you mean, practice?" He asked, looking at me with a look of confusion.
"You know," I explained. "We could do it to each other first."
For a few moments Woody just sat there not saying anything. The look on his face was blank so I couldn't tell what he was thinking. Finally he said, "You want to spank me?"
"Only if you want me to," I said. "Or, if you would prefer, you could show me what to expect when I go to work myself and just spank me."
"Let me get this straight," Woody said. "You want me to spank you just like he would so you could see what it would be like?"
"Yeah." I mumbled. "You could spank me and then I could spank you, if you want me to."
Woody sat motionless for a few moments without saying anything. I could tell, by the look on his face that he was thinking about it. Suddenly he said, "Where would we do it?"
I had no idea where we could do something like that and just sat there with this dumb look on my face. I shrugged my shoulders and said dejectedly, "I haven't the faintest idea."
Again he sat there thinking in silence. All of a sudden his eyes light up and a big smile flashed across his face. "I know!" he said, and jumped up. "Follow me!" He ordered and ran to his bike.
Off we went. From my vantage point, I could see the fabric of his shorts pull tight across his little butt. My _c_o_c_k_ jumped in my pants at the thought of seeing him draped across my knee.
He turned his bike into the driveway of his house and headed for the garage. I followed instinctively, not certain where he was actually heading. He stopped, threw his bike onto the ground and headed for his back door. Without any prompting I followed him into the house and let the screen door bang.
"I forgot that my Mom was going to go shopping today," he explained. "She won't be home for hours. So we can do whatever we want and won't have to worry about being caught." He led us into the living room and plopped himself down in a big overstuffed chair. I walked to the couch and sat down, looking to him to start whatever we would do. After all, he was the one with all the experience.
"Ok," he said. "What do you want to do?"
"Whatever," I answered. "What do you want to do?"
"Well, since this was your idea," he said, pausing for emphasis. "I think you should get a spanking!"
My _c_o_c_k_ was once again having serious trouble with the tight confines of my jeans. I hadn't had a spanking for a while, but I still remembered them very well. All of a sudden, I wasn't so certain that I really wanted one now that the possibility was real. "I don't know Woody," I said meekly. "How would you do it?"
"Look Bobby," he said, a no-nonsense tone creeping into his voice. "You asked for this, didn't you?" he asked.
I just looked at him blankly.
"Answer me!" he ordered.
"Well, I guess so," I said sheepishly.
"Did you or did you not?" He said firmly.
"You know I did, Woody."
"Good," he said. "Now that you admit that you asked for this, you will get exactly what you asked for. As for how it will be done, I suppose you tell your dad how he will spank you?"
"No, of course not." I said flatly.
"Well, you won't tell me how to do it either!" he said. "Now, come here."
I just sat there for a few seconds looking at him. He was really going to spank me and I wasn't sure how to react. He motioned for me to come toward him and said, "Come here!"
Slowly I stood up and walked toward him. The butterflies in my stomach started to roll and I'm certain that my eyes were as big around as two saucers. When I was within his reach, he grabbed my arm and spun me around exposing my backside to his hand. He raised it high into the air and brought it down onto my ass....SLAP!, SLAP!, SLAP!
There wasn't much pain, but I still let out a loud, "Ow!" Pushing my hips forward to miss the next swat. "That hurt, Woody!" I said.
"It's supposed to hurt, remember?" he said. "This is what you wanted to do, and it's going to hurt a lot more too."
Without waiting for my response, he grabbed the button on my jeans and yanked them open. Before I had a chance to stop him, he pulled them down around my knees and pulled me over his lap.
"Now," he began. "I've wanted to beat your butt for a long time and now that I've got you over my knee you're going to get a spanking that you'll never forget."
"No, wait!" I insisted. "Don't do it very hard!"
He raised his right arm high into the air and forced it down onto my underwear-clad butt.
Whack!
This time, a burning sensation shot up my right cheek. "Ahhhh!" I yelped.
Again he raised his hand.....Whap! Whack!
I started to squirm on his lap trying to get away from his hand.
"Stay still!" he ordered. "Or it will be worse."
Slap! Slap! Whack! Whomp!
Again I squirmed. Trying to avoid the next blow . . .
"OK," he suddenly said. "That's it, now get up!" he ordered, and pulled me up off his lap.
"Didn't I tell you to stop squirming?" he asked.
I just looked at him, rubbing my butt.
"Didn't I?" he insisted.
"Yeah," I answered. "But it hurts!"
"I'll show you hurt," he said. "You stay right there!" Woody abruptly left the room, leaving me standing there rubbing my smarting back side.
Several seconds later he came back into the living room and he was carrying his mom's hair brush. Now I have had first hand experience with that hair brush (his mom caught the two of us smoking last summer), and I certainly didn't want to feel it now. "Oh no, Woody!" I said. "Not the hair brush!"
"Come here!" he said, and again draped me over his knee. Suddenly, I felt his fingers tugging at the waist band of my underwear.
"Woody!" I screamed. "Stop it, I've changed my mind, stop!"
"Uh uh!" he grunted. "Now you will get a real spanking, just like what I get on Saturday's." He struggled to get my underwear down below the creases where my thighs begin. "I'm going to give you exactly what I get, so you can decide for real if you want the job or not!"
Suddenly, without warning, he raised that brush into the air and let it slam onto my bare ass.
SLAP! Slap! Slap! Whack!
"AHHHHH!" I yelled. "Stop Woody!"
Slap! Whack! Whack! Slap!
Over and over he slammed that brush onto my butt. All I could do was lay there and arch my back as he paddled my bare butt.
Slap! Whack! Slap! Whomp! Slap!
Again and again he forced the business end of that brush onto my sore bottom. Within minutes I was crying in earnest and wiggling, trying to get away from that brush.
After what seemed to be an eternity, he stopped and started to rub my sore butt. "There, there" he cooed, gently rubbing the sore skin. "That wasn't so bad was it."
I couldn't answer. The tears were still flowing freely. His hand on my butt felt really good and my _c_o_c_k_ instantly became rock hard. For the next few minutes, he just rubbed by ass gently and spoke softly to me. I stopped crying and began slowly rubbing my _c_o_c_k_ back and forth across the skin of his leg. He rubbed and I pumped for the longest time. Suddenly, I felt an urgent sensation build from deep within and I erupted. I had never felt anything so good before! I just kept on pumping and rubbing my _c_o_c_k_ against his leg. It felt great!
After a few moments, I said, "God _d_a_m_n_! That felt good! I've never felt anything like that before, what happened?"
"You came, stupid!" He explained. That white stuff is sperm, it's what gives a girl a baby.
"Wow, it felt great! I want to do that again." I said grinning. The memory of the spanking overshadowed by the feeling of my first orgasm.
"You want me to spank you again?" He asked.
Reaching back to rub my sore butt, I decided to let that wait for another day. "Not today." I said with a grin. "But you can do it again tomorrow!"