[In 1997, I posted a series of true-life stories that got a lot of very positive e-mail response from readers of this site. I never finished the series, until now. In reviewing these original submissions, I have edited these stories and will now repost them with typo corrections, etc. These repostings will be done every few days, and the series completed with new stories. The stories start at age 11, and end a year ago. Enjoy]
Glenn and I were immediate boyhood friends, from the time he moved into our neighborhood, until I was the best man at his wedding. My family lived on a 60-acre farm outside of a major Midwest city. Due to my father's business travels, we sub-divided the farm when I was ten, leaving about 20 acres for my brother and I to play on. Glenn's family was the second family to move into our new sub-division.
Glenn was blonde haired with a slimmer build than mine. We were both very competitive in sports. He was more athletic than I, but I was much stronger. His parents almost never spanked him. On the other hand, at that age, my father gave me bare butt paddlings with regularity....all justified. He was a partial witness to one of these, when my father had called to me, while Glenn and I were swinging on the tree in the back yard. He immediately knew from the expression on my face and the tone of my father's voice that I was going to get spanked. My father told him to wait if he wanted. He did...and he heard me get it from my upstairs bedroom. When I came back out, Glenn was still there, not one bit sympathetic, and even laughing at my tear stained eyes and face. That spanking then got his curiosity up about the whole subject of spankings.
Over a period of several days, we created a spanking game between ourselves. We wanted my little brother to participate, but since Bill was rarely spanked, he wanted no part of it. Since we were competitive physically, we set up the following game.
We would go to an old barn, a good half-mile from my house, and isolated by surrounding farm fields. At the barn we would play a challenge, physical dare game that varied as much as we could imagine. The winner spanked the loser of each game. If one of us lost more than three times during a day, we stopped playing the games,
The winning spanker had to follow only three rules, no blood, no more than 12 swats a spanking and no swats anywhere but on the ass. Generally, the loser had to strip to his white cotton briefs, and assume whatever position the winner required. Sometimes, the winner pulled down the loser's briefs, but we both knew that paybacks could be hell. The regular position of punishment was OTK, or bent over grabbing the ankles. Most were with the hand or one of our belts.
One Thursday, Glenn had lost twice, and was really pissed that he lost the third time. The game had been how far one of us could jump off of the barn roof. When I ordered him to strip to his underpants the third time, he said he couldn't take another one. I told him that if we waited, he would get a double spanking on the bare the next day, he relented, but said he didn't know if he could take a full spanking. I then took him over to a low bench and laid him down on it lengthways. There was some old hay bale string lying on a shelf and I tied his wrists and ankles to the legs. This left his body in a position that stuck his cotton covered butt up in the air, stretching the white fabric tight across his buns.
Since I knew he was going on vacation for a week, leaving Saturday. Tomorrow, Friday, I was going to be with my family all day. Glenn didn't know that, I took full advantage of the situation. There was a piece of an old roof shingle lying over in the corner of the barn that was a paddle more than a shingle. It was only about an inch wide, but it was thicker on one end than the other. When Glenn saw what I had in my hand, he started to beg and actually begin to cry. I accused him of being a big baby, and what he really needed was some of what I got from my father. That really set him off. I then reminded him of his laughter when he witnessed my spanking.
I straddled the bench, just over his head and shoulders, looking directly down on his spread apart squirming legs and angled cotton covered buns. I then raised the shingle over my head and swatted his left cheek, landing just above the leg opening of his underpants. He screamed, but not as loud as the second swat the same way on his right cheek, and landing just above the leg opening of his briefs. The rough wood of the shingle indented his brief's white cotton fabric. I really wanted at that point to paddle his butt, but I relented and put in motion his penalty for losing three games.
I asked him his age and he blubbered "Eleven". I informed him that was going to be the number of swats I was going to give him on his underpants. He had to count each one, if he didn't he got a penalty swat on the bare. At this point he was really crying and begging, letting me know that "I don't want to play this game anymore." I ordered him to count.
The next swat was not as hard as the first two I gave him, but he stilled screamed, but did manage to shout "tthhrree".
I then proceeded to slowly, give him the rest of his spanking, pausing five to 10 seconds between swats. He managed to count out each one. By the time we were through, his body had started to shake and his buns tightened and contracted so much, that it looked like his mother had ironed a crease in the seat of his underpants. I then for the first time, in all our spanking games, massaged his butt through his briefs. When he had quit crying, I pulled them down and surveyed the damage. He wasn't bruised, but his cheeks looked like bad hamburger. I massaged his bare cheeks some more, until he was back to normal. He asked me if my Dad did that to me after a spanking and I said "No". I pulled back up his briefs and untied him.
Glenn looked at me and said to watch out the next time, because in the next game he was going to give a bare butt paddling....just like my Dad gave me. He told me also to bring my Dad's paddle with me for our next game. I did ten days later, and he did just what he promised, the first game I lost. I lost three that day, and got three hard bare butt paddlings, OTK.
My butt looked worse than when my Dad spanked me. At least Glenn did massage my buns after each one. We never spanked each other that hard again, but we continued to play the game until my brother and I had to go to boarding school because of my mother's illness a year later.
(My next story will relate the first and last time I spanked my little brother....and what happened to me because of it!)
This story is true, as all are in this series; just names have been modified to protect living persons. I travel in my own business, and have the freedom to safely satisfy the spanking needs of interested readers. For details about me, please read my current posting at http://guyspank. com/cgi-bin/entry. pl? jason