It was one week till the most wonderful night of the year. Christmas, outside of your birthday perhaps was the best day, but for the night, it was Halloween. Jamie and his friends sat about, plotting all sorts of mischief, along with assurances of scoring the supreme amount of candy any child ever imagined.
They were in Jamie's bedroom, playing cards, poker actually. An odd pastime for twelve year olds, but since his friends older cousin had taught them the game, they'd fallen in love with it. Of course when he'd lectured them on the advanced theories of strip poker, it was now etched in stone on the list of all time favorite things. One of his best friends was Laura Vaith. Along with Tom Paulin, called Tom, and Tom Beatty, referred to as Tommy, the four of them were inseparable from the time they were old enough to associate with others. The four hooligans his mother called them.
Laura was great, a tomboy's tomboy. She was taller than them all, rangy, muscular, and with the backbone of the staunchest bully. But as they neared thirteen, Jamie had begun to get certain odd feelings he'd never experienced. The last time they had wrestled, Jamie had gotten a tight feeling in the pit of his stomach, and his penis had swelled slightly. It wasn't the first erection he'd ever had, but they were mostly a morning occurrence, going away and not being a bother throughout his day. There was a fantasy growing in the back of his mind, of a naked Laura, despite the fact that nature had not begun to work it's mysterious changes upon her slim physique. But Jamie and his friends furtive imaginations proclaimed that death would surely result, should they be caught with their female buddy in the nude. This was a scenario that would have to wait.
For now, extra money for the desired objects of youth was the thing used to wager. Jamie was in trouble. Tommy was on a roll. He seemed to have the ability to will the cards in his favor when he was in great need of something. At this point, it was the king god majofo of Halloween costumes. His parents would only go so far for something used once and then became a further fire hazard in the attic. But Tommy was the consummate artiste, and his getup had to far excel the world. At least in his own mind. Jamie was at least lucky here, giving very little thought to his ensemble. A costume that insured total anonymity was what he preferred.
His winnings if there were to be any, would find a different outlet. At this moment, his youngest uncle was in the business of memorabilia, and gladly picked up things here and there. He'd found a rare Green Lantern comic for his nephew, and using his connections got it yanked from an auction, but at a promised price which Jamie had to cover. Now he was ten dollars short. Tommy was sympathetic.
"I have an idea," he said. "We play one more hand, and if you win, you get the cash, I win..... You can still have the money, but I get to pick out your Halloween costume."
"Great, you'll probably make me dress like a girl."
"Relax. It's just what you'd want. Nobody will know who you are, and it's nice and warm. Would I do something mean to you." A smile that would open up many the pants of a college cheerleader beamed across the room.
"OK, but I want to see it first."
"Yeah, no problem, I'll show it to you, I mean we have a week. Tom, you deal us."
Things looked good. After the card exchange Jamie was holding a straight. He'd try to hide his delight during a real game, but since it was just one hand with no betting, he grinned from ear to ear. Tommy, his poker face in place, placed down his flush, one card at a time.
Jamie thought deeply that night. Tommy was known for his Halloween stunts, but they'd never been used against one of the group. Besides, Jamie would have a chance to look it over before he made the commitment.
The week flew by, and always something kept the two friends apart. Jamie's mother had inquired about his costume plans, to be reassured that Tommy was providing one. Two days before Halloween, she told him that the plans for their party now took precedence, and that she nor his father would have time to organize something for him. Jamie told her not to worry, it was all taken care of. Little did Jamie know that the two Toms had coerced several of their companions to keep Jamie busy, and hence have no chance to change his mind.
The day before the magic night, Tommy showed up with Tom and Laura in tow. He revealed to all his selection for Jamie's costume. Jamie felt sick. Held before him was a giant pink pajama suit that little kids wore, with feet and a butt flap. Added to this a Baby Huey mask, it was as he'd been promised, warm and totally obscuring his identity. Jamie mounted a campaign of complaints, but when he remembered that it was this or nothing, he silently cursed himself for trusting his best friend so close to Halloween. Laura gave Tommy an ear full about being a rotten friend, which iced down Jamie's embarrassment somewhat. Well, there was nothing to be done, he wanted the comic that badly, and there was nothing he could do to change it.
The night had not gone to badly. Most of the people who recognized Jamie by his companions said nothing to him personally, but there were several comments about the cuteness of his costume. The only friends they encountered were running for their lives as they had just soaped the windows on their math teachers house. After an hour of cruising the neighborhood and the surrounding areas, Tommy announced, "it's time." This was the clue to the others that it was time to begin their highjinks.
"Our first target of the evening." Jamie sighted in on his friends projected victim, fear flooding his bowels.
"Are you crazy, that's old man Denner's place."
"Could you think of a more deserving target," Alan Rocman said, having joined the group over on Terrace Ave.
"Could we pick a target closer to my house," Jamie exclaimed!
"Exactly," Tommy said, stepping between the two of them to get the attention of all. "It's perfect, we do the house, and then run into your basement, take cover for awhile, and then back out for more fun."
Jamie's inner voice, the one he hardly ever listened to, was calling out for a complete reversal of tactics, and failing that, running like hell. The spanking he'd suffered at Mr. Denners hand earlier that summer, was making a rebroadcast in the inner corner of his mind.
"Relax," Tommy said, that winning smile that would bring trouble to everybody's head at some time or another, " you be the lookout, and if we get caught, your in the clear."
The inner voice was screaming guilt by association, but somehow on this night of evil mischief, his buddy's thoughts seemed lucid and well planned. So, there it was. Mrs. Denner was away with her creepy little daughters, and the evil Denner would sit in the kitchen, and walk to the front door to distribute candy to the neighborhood kids. So as soon as he moved from this spot and entered the hall leading to the door, Jamie would give the signal, and then the others would pelt the windows and be gone before the hated Denner knew what hit him, or what hit his house. The collected laughter of all assembled, including Laura raised Jamie's hopes that this most excellent of plans would succeed. So, in place, the others crept around to the front of the house, staying well below the window.
Jamie carefully glanced into the kitchen, unsure that Denner would be facing in the right direction. There he sat, coffee in hand, reading. Jamie stepped back, preparing to voice the go ahead to his friends, when he stumbled into a coiled mass of garden hose. He fell backwards striking the ground with severe force. Inside a mask, ow, can sound very much like now, and it did.
Denner's eyes bugged from his head, as a dozen fresh grade A eggs, painted a picture of yellow upon his view of his front yard. He bolted from his chair, reaching the window just in time to see the culprits escaping round the corner of his house towards the carport. He jumped to the door where moments ago his youngest neighbor had been observing him. He threw the door open as the last of the juvenile delinquents passed by on the opposite side of his car. His brain told him he'd never be able to catch them, even as he stepped out of his home, and onto the flailing body of the lookout. The very upset gentleman reached down and hauled the youngster to his feet, holding him by the scruff, and tearing the disguise from him.
"Jamie Peters," he roared, "I should have known you'd be behind this. Well, you at least won't be getting away with this." He dragged the unwilling boy into the kitchen, not too gently depositing him into the now vacant chair. Jamie shivered in sheer dread, as the evil one stomped over to the phone. He didn't need to be clairvoyant, to know who it was the old bastard was calling. His Dad made record time covering the ground between their connected yards.
"Jamie Peters. I'm not sure what angers me more, this incredibly thoughtless stunt, or the fact that you chose a house right next store to your own."
"Are you saying he should have done it elsewhere," Mr. Denner questioned. "Marvelous parenting advice that." Jamie blanched as he saw the color of his Dad's face reddened as he knew his butt would soon be. Mr. Denner had a way of making his parents question there fitness to guide him, which always went worse for him.
"Well young man, your done for the evening, and as soon as our guests are gone, you will be truly sorry! Mr. Denner I'm........." Mr. Denner held up his hand, halting further apologies from his the angered parent.
"So, the boy gets all evening to sit in comfort, and by time the festivities are over, you'll have forgotten his misdeeds." Jamie's insides were turning to ice, as the sound of his father's teeth grinding reached his ears.
"I suppose, Mr. Denner, that you have some other thing in mind."
"In fact I do, a plan that will let you get back to your guests, and allow for a suitable punishment for this little miscreant." Jamie felt faint, knowing somehow what was coming next.
"He's all yours sir," his Dad said, walking out of the room, slamming the front door to release some of his anger. Jamie turned to a grinning malodorous troll, disguised as a human being.
"There's a bucket under the sink, fill it with soap and water." With these few words calmly spoken, he left the room, to return soon after with the BRUSH. He'd told the young rascal before his last spanking with it, it was no longer usable for grooming, but for a naughty boys butt, it was highly serviceable. "Outside."
Together, young and old neighbors strode to the front porch, where Jamie was instructed to lay down the bucket. Mr. Denner pulled the rocking chair closer, and fetched Jamie to his side. "Lets see what's under here," he said jovially, as he undid the butt flap on the boy's costume. Cool Autumn air slid down the back of the boy's legs, bringing goose pimples along the surface of his muscular hairless legs. Mr. Denner could only bring his underwear down so far, the suit keeping it from passing more than a few inches past the youngster's pale smooth buttocks. He took the offending child over his knee, and began to slap his fleshy cheeks, alternating left and right, moving about to cover every inch. Heat began to suffuse the bottom of his neighbors naughty offspring. Jamie had given up any pretense at saving his pride, yelling his lungs out as his backside was roundly swatted. His cries even drowned out the laughter of the onlookers that had gathered.
"All right boy, " said Mr. Denner over Jamie's sobbing," you leave that flap down while you clean off my window.
Jamie cried quietly, washing away the mess, fragments of shell stuck to the window in the yellowish goo. As each group of tricker treaters arrived, not only did they receive some candy, but a tour over to where he stood, and a lecture about how mischievous little boys were spanked for their indiscretions. The other kids were very sympathetic. They walked away chanting Jamie got spanked, and alerted all the other kids in the neighborhood to his situation.
When Denner was satisfied as to his cleanup, he took Jamie back to the porch, and gave fifty more swats to a slightly cooled down backside. The worst part was that he told Jamie to remain there, so that he could show him off to other children who might let thoughts of wrong doing enter their minds. If things could ever get worse they did. Mrs. Denner and the freaks she called daughters arrived from their night of frolic. Giggles preceded them as they climb the porch steps. She hustled the twins inside, stopping to see who was standing at her door.
"Some surprise," was all she said.
Tears rained down the poor boy's cheeks, as each group was treated to his humiliation. One or two braver kids even aimed a slap at his crimson buttocks, before old man Denner made it to the door. He wasn't hurrying since Jamie had become his newest Halloween display.
At one instant, where the flow of children had thinned, one of the high school villains, ran up, grabbed Jamie and placed him over his knee, and to the encouragement of his cronies, began reheating his tormented butt. Jamie gave voice to this new barrage of blows and Mr. Denner, who would have no actions not designed by him take place, sped to the door. The older kid was quick, but unbalanced by a soon to be thirteen year old in his lap, was snagged before he could bolt.
The boy was too young and strong for a hiding Mr. Denner would have given him, but Jamie was treated to a glorious sight. To see him placed over the railing of the porch, and twelve swats rain down upon his jeans, across a well toned butt. Finally strength prevailed, and he was able to pull himself over and escape a more serious paddling.
"All right boy, take your errant backside home, and if I catch you up to any more mischief at my expense, I'll tan your hide before I turn you over to the police. Now go!" He sent the little prankster home speeding off with a final stinging blow from the brush. Jamie slowed down when he reached his yard, attempting to rub the burning sensation from his bottom. He waited at least ten minutes, letting the cool night air work it's magic, and then he buttoned up the opening in his costume. He tried to creep upstairs without notice, in case his father had spread the news of what had happened. However, all the adults that caused him to pause in the name of good manners, showed no sign that they were aware of the punishment inflicted upon him. He dozed lighly, knowing that his buttocks were not done with. His Dad came into the room shortly after the last of the partiers had left. He was laying on the bed, his backside already bared for the next round.
His Dad quietly explained why he was about to be spanked, even though this was no news flash. He then pulled his son across his broad lap, and laid into him with the broad leather belt from his musketeer outfit. He paddled the boy until he was crying loudly, attempting to shift his throbbing butt out of range. He then positioned the boy in his lap, stroking his hair, and whispering to him softly of his love, as a boy not quite thirteen, was reminded that he was still a little boy sometimes.
He got the trick that night, but his friends arrived several days later, extra candy they'd collected for him in tow, and a respect for not sharing with them the penalty he had suffered.
Author_ email:vam37@erols. com Author:Vincent