I really had to go, if you know what I mean, and the gas station was the closest place. So, I parked my bicycle outside, and went into the men's room. It was pretty huge, and kind of clean. There were lots of stalls, but none of them had any doors. That kind of bothered me, but, like I said - I had to go. I went to the last stall, the one decked out for wheelchairs, and, um, took care of business. As I sat there, I read the graffiti that guys had scrawled on the walls. I wondered why there wasn't more - most public bathrooms, especially in gas stations, were covered in graffiti. Anyway, I finished up, stood up, and pulled up my jeans. Then I noticed that someone had left a pen sitting on top of the toilet paper dispenser. I quickly grabbed it and wrote something on the wall - nothing much, just a silly little rhyme. I turned to go, to wash my hands, but there were suddenly three big guys blocking the way. They stood there, looking at me - all three looked like they were in their thirties, and they all looked like truck drivers. They had tight t-shirts on that showed off their huge biceps, and their jeans were tight and faded. They all wore boots, and the biggest one had a blue bandana on his head. They looked pissed.
"Did you write that?" One of the guys asked me. "Did you just write something on that wall?"
"No," I stuttered, "Well, maybe. Why? Is it a crime?"
"Yeah, kid, it's a crime," the second big guy said. "And we should call the cops. But this is our bathroom - we run it. We let other guys use it, but if they write on the wall, well, that's an insult to us. So we take care of anybody who dirties up the walls of this place."
"What do you mean?" I was shocked. These guys were really serious about this!
"You need to be punished, kid," the first guy said. "So turn around, bend over, and put your hands on the toilet seat. Now."
"What?" I couldn't believe this. "Is this a joke? Because I'm not laughing."
"Neither are we," the first guy said. "So bend over and take this like a man."
What could I do? I turned around, bent over, and put my hands on the seat. I figured that if they were serious, and tried to punish me, I'd show I could take anything they dished out. Of course, I felt a little nervous - I had no idea what was going to happen next. My stomach fluttered, and my throat went dry.
"How old are you, kid?" the first guy asked me.
"Twelve," I answered.
The first guy stepped up behind me and started paddling my butt with his bare hand. The first three only hurt a little, but the fourth and fifth really stung. I had to fight the urge to move out of the way when I sensed his hand coming at me again. I was still amazed this was happening. All for writing on the wall! And now I was getting my butt beaten by a huge truck driver. He smacked my rear four more times, quickly, then stopped a moment. By then, my ass was really on fire.
"Okay, kid," he told me, "Two more to go," - and I finally figured out why he asked how old I was - "Then after those two you gotta stay in that position. Move, and you make it worse."
Stay in the position? Why? Was there more punishment? I wondered if all three were gonna paddle me. I really hoped not.
The first guy hit my butt twice more, but not as hard, and I started to get my confidence back. I had survived so far. I was sure I could take the rest.
The second guy, the one who had told me it was their bathroom, stepped up behind me. I heard him take off his belt, and I sucked in my breath. I really had to fight the urge to run away. A belt? Nothing happened for a minute, then - crack! The belt shot into my butt, like a whip. Yow! It really hurt, and I gripped the toilet seat. I almost bit my tongue, trying not to scream or cry. Ten seconds later, crack! Another shot, this one on the other cheek. Another blast of agony, and I let out a loud gasp. I tried to get ready for the next one. I grabbed the seat, I held my breath. Nothing, for a minute, then - smack! The belt slapped into the center of my butt, stinging like fire. I cried out, and did a little dance, still bent over - which was really humiliating.
"Okay, kid, stand up and turn around," the second guy said, and I could tell he was trying not to laugh.
I couldn't believe it. The three guys were still standing there, but now there was a huge crowd behind them. Older guys, old men, a few little boys. A lot of guys who looked like truck drivers. All in all, there must have been two dozen guys watching me get it.
And then the third guy, who wore the blue bandana, spoke for the first time.
"My turn,' he said to me. He brushed past me and sat down on the toilet seat. He told me to move to his right side, which I did. What now? I wondered. He patted his leg, and I got it - an over the knee spanking, which I hadn't had in years. _s_h_i_t_! In front of all those guys, too!
"Take down your pants," the third guy said. "And your underwear, too."
"But, but," I tried to say something. "I don't know if I can, I mean, I don't know. In front of everyone?"
"Well, that's okay," the guy said. "I can just use the belt then."
Well, anything would have been better than the belt. So, I slowly slid down my jeans, then my underwear. I guess I should have been humiliated, but for some reason I wasn't really bothered. The man helped me to get across his lap - there was more than enough room in the stall. He put his left hand on my back, and with his right hand he began spanking my bare bottom.
The guys who were watching moved in for a closer look. My butt was already red and on fire from the paddling and the belt, and pretty soon I was squirming all over the guy's lap, with my legs kicking up and down, and my hands grabbing the man's jeans. I kept letting out little gasps and moans. My jeans and underwear slid further and further down.
The man spanked me pretty good, somewhere around twenty smacks, and they just kept coming and coming. He used his right hand to spank me, and I could feel that hand getting hotter and hotter as the blows fell. I could hear the guys in the crowd shouting out stuff, like, "Good one!" and "That'll teach him," and "Yeah, spank that boy's ass!" Towards the end of the spanking, it actually started to feel good, even though it still hurt fiercely. When it was finally over, I couldn't believe it but I had an erection. However, so did the guy who had just spanked me.
For about two minutes, I just lay there, over his lap, letting my breath get back to normal. His left hand still rested on my back. Both our erections went down, and I stood up. The crowd split up, and only a few of them noticed that I didn't have to pull up my pants. The man did it for me. First, the underwear, and his hand brushed against my _c_o_c_k_. My butt was stinging pretty hot, and the fabric of my briefs chafed me. Then he raised my jeans, gently, and told me to get going - and he also told me to never again write on a bathroom wall.