Jim threw the letter from the college on the table and looked over at Matt's friend Chris.
"What? you were never asked to form a study group?"
Mr. McKay's (Jim) face turned dark, he then asked, "Are you sure that he never asked?"
"Yes I'm sure. We've only seen him two or three times all semester and then it was to borrow money." said Chris.
"Borrow money? With what I send him? What for?"
Chris looked over at me, then back to Jim... "Parties, maybe?"
Jim's reaction said that he was thinking the same thing. "Then you never helped him with his homework like he said?" Chris was shaking my head no before he could finish. "Then you never," he stopped himself then started again. "Of course not. He's been lying to me, and I hate that more than anything, but even worse he's been lying about you and that's unforgivable. Just wait until," he was stopped by the opening of the door.
(Not yet! I was thinking, just another minute. I was wondering what his face must have looked like as he was slowly undressed. Probably crushed considering his ego. The way his long muscular legs must have been twitching I was wondering if that bulge in his pants was for real, and what standing naked in front of the family did to his private parts, up or down? The way his butt must have looked at the end, but mostly to see him nude and crying in front of the family and then ordered to his room.)
Jim looked over at Chris, "You might as well go home now, thanks for the information."
"O-O-OK, Mr. McKay, I hope I didn't get Matt in trouble." stuttered Chris knowing what Matthew was going to get.
Jim just looked at him and didn't say a thing.
"Should I leave too Jim?" (hopefully not) I asked.
"No, you can stay Tom... but I warn you, your going to see an 18 year old get his butt tanned pretty good."
I stood there with a smirk on my face, "No problem." I said.
"Matthew!" screamed Jim.
A weak "yes sir," was heard.
"Get in here! Now!"
Jim stood up to meet his son as he slowly dragged his feet through the archway into the living room.
"What do you have to say about your grades?" he started. "Well, I'm waiting! Let me tell you how bad they are then!" He continued without waiting for a reply. (Talk about starting out with a full head of steam!) "They suck! no, worse than that, you may not even graduate!" He was now bellowing and Matthew was cowering, as if looking for cover from his father's verbal onslaught. "How did you graduate from High School? Now a days even the loony tunes should be able to pass! Just a "D" will get you through, but did you do even that much? No! Here let me show you!"
Could this all be for real? It seemed so: and of course it wasn't my son who failed looking wildly around for the report card. Jim commanded him to wait while he stormed out. Now having an unobstructed view I looked at him, his face was beautiful. No other way to describe it. Just beautiful. Every feature was lightly but evenly drawn and in perfect proportion and position. The skin was as clear and as smooth as a baby's bottom and the coloring was as if the sun had come and softly kissed him. Visible at any distance yet always quiet. He was in a typical teenager summer dress. A printed T-shirt, long colorful shorts and white slip-ons. The calves of his legs were covered with brown hair and while not muscular he did have a tapered frame and the word "tight" came to mind. Beautiful, but younger looking than you would expect at 18.
Jim reappeared, followed by him mother, Suzanne. "Here!" He shouted while handing him the report card. "Explain this! Dismal isn't it?"
Matthew wasn't saying anything, just kept his head downcast. "Well I guess we know what happens now don't we!" Trying to lift his head, in search of an ally, but too shame-faced to look at us. He whimpered, "Dad, please," moving his head in my direction.
"No." Jim answered, "He's a member of the family now and has the same rights as anyone else. And I was, I had just married Jim's sister about a year ago, but had always heard stories of Matthew and his brother Michaed getting spanked but had never witnessed one. Besides I've already filled Tom in and he knows what's going to happen. Now bring me the chair. Quickly I glanced around the room to see how everyone else was reacting. Unreadable Suzanne had a look of determination on her face, as if to say you have this coming. Michael appeared ashen, almost worse than Matthew, and was glancing out the window. Stopping for a moment I put myself in his shoes, it must be a trip to see your older brother spanked. It would be like watching yourself and then to have someone new watch, particularly at their age, must make your stomach do flip-flops. The chair was in place. Turning back I decided to only watch Matthew. Everything else could wait.
Sitting on the couch directly across from the chair I noticed the strap was now in Jim's hand. It looked formidable. Thick (too thick to be very flexible) short and black with small holes drilled into it. And a wooden handle. Matthew had been standing in front of his father, hands behind his back but was now bent over taking off his shoes. Setting them neatly to the side he stood and lifted off his shirt. Folded neatly he placed it on top of the shoes as had been predicted. He paused here to look at his father but he just nodded, ever so slightly, for him to continue. His hands moved slowly, as if going through water, to his shorts. Fumbling, he finally unbuttoned them and they fell to his ankles. Looking down he fervently glanced at me then put his fingers inside the blue and white designer boxer's. He seemed momentarily frozen in this position, then just before his father could speak pushed them down to his knees. He then placed his hands once again behind his back. Jim was now speaking to him, but I wasn't listening. I was looking. His lithe young body was fuller than what first met the eye. While not overly muscular he did have long smooth lines and more than enough definition. All of his skin had the same sun-kissed look except for where his bathing suit had been. Here it was a peaches and cream. His bottom was perfect, to my eyes clear and smooth and white not large, both mounds were perfectly round and ever so pert. His penis had remained soft and his balls were tight and hairy. Once again, while not large, perfect form was evident, and while his pubic hair was fuller than the rest of his body hair, it was less than what you would expect from an 18 year old, and the blond coloring made it look even less.
Matthew was now speaking, haltingly but still clearly apologizing for his grades and stating that he was ready for his spanking. A quick once over showed moist eyes, a flushed face and trembling legs. He stood at his father's side. Jim first bent over and pulled his boxer shorts above the knees. He was now beet red both in the face and neck, then it dawned on me in this position his back was no longer to the rest of the family and now everyone could see his private parts. "What must he be feeling?" I thought. Bad enough a spanking, not to mention of his bare bottom, but in front of your mother and brother, too. Not to mention me for the first time plus knowing that soon you'll be crying like a baby!" Talk about being on display. Holding Matthew's arm he led him across his lap, centering him so that neither arms or legs touched the floor and his bottom was upturned and high. Matthew was now out and out pleading. Quietly but quickly, "Daddy, please, I'm sorry. Please don't Daddy? Once over his father's knee he started to act like the kid he was being treated like. But he was ignored.
"Ker-smack" Jim had brought his hand down hard, with no warning. "Ker-smack," "Ker-smack." The rhythm was slow and steady, but each blow had enough force that the outline of his hand was left behind. "Ker-smack," "Ker-smack," speed was being picked up and Matthew's bottom was now a colorful red. "Ker-smack," that was hard and Matthew let out a gasp. His first sound since the spanking itself began, "Ker-smack," "ker-smack," extra power now and Matthew's body seemed to slightly jump and he arched his back a bit. "Ker-smack," "P-Please," "Ker-smack" He couldn't even finish choking it out before another blow landed. "Ker-smack." "Ow." With this Jim stopped and roughly rubbed his bottom for a moment. The contact was already startling, and he was just now picking up the strap. The room was quiet except for the sound of Matthew's ragged breathing.
The momentary lapse meant only one thing and Matthew knew it -- immediately. Arching up he looked at his father with sad, wet eyes and tried to plead. "Daddy..p-please...I'm (gulp) I'm sorry..." But the strap was being raised "crack!" "Ooww!" "Crack!" "Crack!" "Oh!" It was getting loud. The strap was moving quickly with force making a brutal sound, while Matthew screamed. His father's strong arm around his waist held the bottom steady but the legs were swinging up and down and his head was jerking in every direction, "Crack!" "Crack!" "Crack!" It was getting hard to tell where one left off and another began, Jim was working up a sweat and the bottom, now deep crimson, was getting very tender. At first the strap seemed to jump back when hitting supple skin; but now it was sinking in. Its resilience gone. "Crack!" "Crack!" "Crack!' Finally, almost twenty minutes after starting, he stopped. Matthew was now slumped completely over his father's lap and crying like a baby. All of his resistance was spent long ago. His bottom now looked a deep purple. As promised hand spanks were again used but not nearly as hard as in the beginning. Jim sensed, or knew from experience, that Matthew's bottom had taken about all it could.
He cried over his father's lap. I was once again looking over the room. Suzanne looked appeased and a thought ran through my head. It's obvious she not only approves, but probably encourages her husband. Michael looked flushed and was almost squirming himself. Identifying with Matthew and/or remembering how his own butt had felt. Jim looked tired. Small beads of sweat strung his forehead and his armpits were soaked.
After a few minutes elapsed Jim gently lifted Matthew off his lap and what a sight. The gazelle like legs which had been so sturdy before were now wobbling like a colt trying to take its first step. The hard crying was forcing his chest back, accenting his frame and showing stomach definition which had before gone unseen. His whole body glistened with sweat. Plus every time his hair would sweep to the side, his face showed a new expression of pain. He was rubbing his bottom fast and furiously. At this point he either didn't know or didn't care what he looked like as he slightly jumped up and down but his private parts were swimming around before us and growing ever so slightly from the constant motion (but I'll bet he remembers later on - with dread.) The tears were still flowing hard -down, then off, his face. The cries also continued, but maybe a little softer now.
"Young man," Jim was speaking in a soft but firm voice. " I hope you've learned your lesson and that you'll try harder during summer school." He was shaking his head yes! "To make sure of it you will stay in after supper and study. Plus if you get out to on a weekend you will be in at a decent time, understood?" What could he do but nod his head yes although his eyes looked even sadder, if possible. "Good, then I think you should go to your room now." Slowly, jerkily Matthew bent over and pulled up his boxer shorts. Then looking at his father, he was told to leave>As he left (and you could tell, even on him, that he was blushing) all eyes were on him, taking in his rubbing of his backside, his tears and his poor, sore bottom.