Getting Good Grades

by Rod <>


Brian was a structured young man. Having just turned eighteen, he had graduated high school three months earlier, and was looking forward to starting college. In high school he had been involved in many school activities- Student Council, drama, and football. He was well known and considered attractive by the girls. He almost always dressed casual, and he wasn't known to be part of any clique, though he had friends of all types. He was about 5'9," medium build, with sandy-blond hair and blue eyes.

Brian had plans for his life; he knew what he wanted to do. His father had worked for years to get the money to make sure he and his brother could go to a good school, and it was about to become a reality. Because of this, he understood that there would be little time for leisure in college. Of course, he never had much time for leisure in high school, so there wouldn't be much of an adjustment.

One of the reasons for Brian's success was his family. He especially looked up to his twenty-four-year-old older brother, Dean, who would be finishing out school the following year. Dean was going to a different school than Brian, one that had more of an academic base. It actually fit Dean's personality, though- he was ordered, methodical, and disciplined.

Brian, while sharing similar traits with his brother, was going to a college with a more relaxed atmosphere. Even so, it had what Brian needed, and he wasn't worried about being distracted. In high school he was bombarded with distractions, and considered himself immune to them. He also considered himself immune from peer pressurehe had been offered drinks at the parties he had gone to, but he knew it would cause nothing but trouble. Besides, he thought, his brother didn't do anything of the such, and he was on a straight path to success. Brian went on, then, to prepare himself for the next great stage of his life.

A month before college, Brian met his roommate, and they talked for about twenty minutes on the phone. His roommate, Tim, seemed eager to start school, and sounded like a fun, outgoing guy. They both had similar interests. They both had been involved in drama in high school, and they both intended to play baseball in college. Brian decided they would get along great.

When the day finally came for Brian to leave for college, he was ready to go. He had everything packed- his music, class supplies, and clothes- jeans, socks, underwear, shirts, baseball caps, and his favorite jerseys. He'd called all his friends and kissed his girlfriend goodbye. Everything was set. The four-hour drive threr seemed like an eternity.

When he arrived, he met his roommate and his roommate's family. After a few hours of visiting and his mom's worrying, Brian's parents finally left. He was on his own.

The next week went great for Brian. He and Tim got to know each other better, and they spent a lot of time together. Tim, being rather rambunctious, wanted to join in college life right away. He had already decided he was going to pledge a fraternity, and the same excitement had spilled over to Brian. Brian was still in shock at the fact there was a world outside of suburbia, so he wasn't hesitant at all to jump in and pledge also.

This is where Brian changed and the fun began. Brian's first beer was at his first frat party. He really liked it, and had another. For Brian there was no buzzing. He got drunk fast, and he really enjoyed himself. When the weekend was over, however, he was over his head in work. Since he still wanted to be serious about work, even if Tim wasn't, he'd spend all week just trying to keep up. By the weekend, he was glad to have the chance to unwind and party. It came to be the only thing he looked forward to.

Weekends soon began to extend to weekdays, and Brian began to party all the time. By this time, he didn't care about anything except girls and parties. He couldn't believe the fun he was having. He hadn't had time for any of this in high school, and he wasn't about to miss the opportunity for it now.

Time flew by, and before he knew it, Christmas break came. This was the time when he got his grades. Brian was shocked. He had one grade above a C, and had flunked three classes. He couldn't believe time had gone so fast. He also couldn't fathom the fact that he would lose his scholarship, and he was dreading what his brother would think of him. Christmas was the time for Brian to go home and visit his family, and he knew it wouldn't be too fun. He reasoned, though, that his family would see that he had spent his whole life working and he needed to go a little crazy.

When break started and Brian went home, his parents were eager to know everything that was going on. Brian told them about all his classes and mentioned some of the activities he had joined. He was, however, too scared to mention his grades, because he knew question would lead to question, which would lead to the truth. He kept the truth to himself, and waited for his brother to come home. Two days later his brother arrived, and the boys were glad to see each other. And as usual, they started to spend a lot of time together.

Later that day the two boys played touch football with a few of Dean's friends. After the game, Brian and his brother began to talk. Dean was very curious how Brian was handling college, so he asked him a lot of questions. Brian tried to avoid the truth with Dean, and he thought he did a pretty good job. He had an inkling, though, that Dean was on to the stuff that was going on- his brother was no idiot.

That night, Dean, out of concern for his brother, told his parents he thought Brian wasn't being honest with them. They did a little snooping, and found a copy of Brian's transcript with his grades. They were all shocked, and Brian's dad was fuming. He couldn't believe Brian would actually throw away such a large sum of money in such a short time. Dean was especially disappointed, too, because he had always been proud of his brother and expected him to achieve. Brian's dad decided then and there that Brian would get no money from him. Dean, however, had a starting solution to the problem. He told his dad, and his dad agreed.

Brian's dad, still fuming, went into Brian's room, with Dean close behind. Brian was laying on his bed, talking to his girlfriend and watching TV. Immediately he was smart enough to hang up the phone, turn off the TV and sit up straight. He knew he was in for the confrontation of his life with his dad, and now that he was in college, he had no idea what his dad would do to him. He was especially worried about Dean, though, because he didn't want him to look down on him in any way.

"Listen, boy, I know what's up and you're in pretty deep," Brian's dad said, "and I don't see how you think you're getting out of this one."

Brian responded, "But Dad, the year's not over yet, and besides, college is tougher than you think."

"Brian, I don't know what to do about this, or where you're gonna take out the money for those classes," his dad said.

Dean, with that stern look on his face, looked at his brother: "Maybe you can start with his butt."

Brian couldn't believe what he was hearing, and he was scared. Brian hadn't been spanked since he was a little kid, and hadn't been paddled or whipped for a couple years. Spankings were more frightening than painful, as he remembered, but whippings were both. When he did get whipped before, it was usually with his brother, so at least there was some comradory as a slight comfort. Now it would be different, and he didn't know what would happen.

"I think Dean's learned a few things in college," said Brian's dad, "and I really don't want to deal with _s_h_i_t_ like this tonight, so I'm going to let Dean handle this. Besides, he seems to be as disappointed in you as I am. So, you and I will deal with you tomorrow. I'm leaving tonight to Dean."

Now I was slightly confused. For one thing, I was embarrassed enough with Dean, but Dean was actually as disappointed in me as my dad. Alongside this, I had no idea how I was going to be punished.

"Brian, I'm serious about what I said. You really are going to get spanked," said Dean.

I was still in shock and I didn't know what to say.

"What do you mean?" I blurted out panicky.

"You and I have gotten in enough trouble to know exactly what I mean," he said, "except this time there was only one of us getting in over his head. This isn't a kid spanking, either, Brian. What you did is something everyone will have to deal with."

Then and there I had an idea of what was going on. I remembered the sting and crack of the paddle.

Get up and get into the position," commanded Dean.

"What position, Dean?" I dumbly replied.

"Don't _f_u_c_k_ with me, Brian; I'm not going to repeat myself," Dean boomed.

That was all he had to say. I quickly jumped out of bed, got on my knees, and laid my torso on the mattress with my butt in the air. I was smart enough to get my butt up high just like previous whippings, because I knew Dean wasn't going to screw around. I then just waited for the paddle.

Dean than broke the silence: "This may take a while, and I want you to remember how surprised I am at you, Brian. I thought you could do better that this."

I had expected Dean to get his fraternity paddle, but right after he said this, I heard that sound of leather against denim. Right then I realized that this wasn't going to be a paddling, it was a going to be a whipping. My thoughts suddenly trailed off to a couple years back. I could never forget the whip-like sound of a folded belt in the air, waiting for it to smack my ass, waiting for the eternal whipping to end. Now it looked like I would re-live it all again.

Dean stood behind me with HIS doubled-up belt in his right hand: "You've got thirty seconds to take in this situation, and you better not move. Then we'll start."

I looked at myself in the mirror next to me. I surveyed myself. There I was, with my round-shaped butt extruding into the air. I was wearing a backwards cap. I had my dark-blue Aikman jersey on, with silver stripes on the sleeves. Under my jersey I had a white tee-shirt, and luckily, both were tucked into my jeans. I had a pair of blue denim 505s (30 in. waist) with black belt, and thank heavens, I had worn boxers underneath.

I could see Dean's reflection. There he was, standing over me, with his folded black leather belt. That belt had been my grandfather's, but Dean somehow ended up with it. It had a clanky brass buckle, was old, rather worn, and from my vantage point, looked wide and very flexible. Dean looked serious and determined.

After no time, Dean spoke calmly, "I hope you're ready now, Brian. I'd better not hear a peep out of you, and I'll finish when I finish."

Two seconds later I heard that whip-sound and I felt the belt stripe my ass. I wanted to reach back and cover it, but I clenched my teeth and didn't.




The belt was wrapping itself around my butt, creating a path of fire as itwent.






Dean quickened the pace, and I could feel welts raising on my rear.




He stopped for three seconds and then said he wasn't done. I started to cry.





Now that whip-sound cracked in my ears, and my butt felt like it was ripping through my jeans. This was the largest number of licks I had ever received at any given whipping in my life. I was now bawling.




That was eighteen. I prayed he would stop there. Couldn't he see what he was doing to my ass?

I then heard the strap whistling through the air.

With loud cracks:




I was bawling. Dean stopped: "Now for three classes and three Cs."





He stopped there, and I was crying more than ever. I heard him slip his belt back on and his buckle clank. He then left the room.

I got up and laid flat on my stomach on my bed. I cried in my pillow for a few seconds, and then reached back and touched my butt. It felt like it was burning with strips of fire, and I could actually feel heat coming from. I got up and looked at it in the mirror. With my jeans on, it looked the same. I then unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my jeans, painfully slid them down, then my boxers, and examined myself. My ass had red stripes the width of Dean's belt criss-crossing it. I touched one of them, and it burned like Hell. I then took my jeans off and just laid naked in bed under the covers. I had never been whipped so hard in my life, and I couldn't believe it had just happened, especially at my age. There were bigger problems ahead, I told myself, to try to downplay the whipping. But it didn't work. This whipping was meant to last. I just put my head in my pillow and cried myself to sleep.

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