Travis sat, trembling and alone on the edge of his bed. Tears of sorrow, compassion and fear welled up in his eyes as he listened to the sounds coming from the bedroom next door. The pained and alarmed shrieks and cries were intermingled with the unmistakable "SMACK!" sound of a child getting a bare-bottom spanking. Travis' little brother, 9 year old TJ was getting his bottom spanked as the boy's father could be heard lecturing him between salvos of swats.. Over and over all that could be heard was the sound of Dad's hand smacking the tender little bottom.
Travis cringed as he listened, and the knot of dread in his stomach grew. It would be his turn next, he knew, and he would probably have to pull his pants down and expose his 14 yr old butt before his dad who would then strap him with a belt until Travis would beg that he stop. The welts left by the leather mesh belt would become exquisitely sensitive for a few days; when Travis' father promised he wouldn't want to sit down for a week he usually wasn't joking. Both brothers were used to pants pulled down bare butt spankings. " I'm going to turn you over my knee and redden your bottom, son" dad would tell TJ as he put the boy into that classic spanking position. Travis was too big to be put OTK, so his dad would make him lay across the bed as dad doubled the belt over and used it as a strap.. As he awaited his OWN reddened bottom, Travis felt guilty that TJ was even getting a spanking himself. After all, young TJ had merely been tagging along with his big brother and friends, whom he adored. Travis loved TJ equally in return, and in this closeness felt a bond of responsibility for him also. The boys earlier had been caught around a bonfire that they had built near a construction site. The policeman delivered the boys home to their surprisingly calm father, who merely sent them to their room while the parents discussed what to do next. After some discussion, it was the fire, coupled with the willful disobedience of the parents orders to stay away from the construction site that earned them their troubles tonight.
As Travis waited, he thought about his situation and about his parents. Though both boys clearly disliked the extremely painful and humiliating times when they got their pants taken down and their bottom spanked red, they also knew and accepted it as fair and just punishment for boyhood misdeeds from fair and loving parents. Their parents hated to have to punish the boys, but they did so, never in anger, mind you. They would dispassionately perform this odious task, spanking the boys behaviour and willful disobedience, careful always to ensure that neither lad felt HE was bad, only his actions. There was plenty of discussion, prayer sometimes, and forgiveness always right after the spankings and the boys felt released from thier guilt. They could go on as if nothing had happened--no grudges, cold shoulders, being grounded, etc.
Travis' heart was breaking at the piteous wails emanating from TJ. There was a brief pause in the sounds of spanks, then Travis was shocked when he heard TJ beg " Noooo! Please not the belt daddeee...pleeeeease!" A belt buckle jingled, there was a swoosh, and then "THWACK!" TJ shrieked in agony as more swats followed: "THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!" Travis' empathy for his brother increased and his heart broke, for TJ was getting the belt, too. For the first time. He had graduated away from handprints on his bum to belt stripes now. He knew little TJ's bottom was already deep red and pink from Dad's hand, but it would turn crimson and welts would soon form as the fire was burned into his bottom from the belt. TJ's shrieks and cries were so loud it was hard to hear the cowhide meeting the boyhide. But Travis had counted 18 --2 for each of TJ's 9 years-- when it finally stopped. Plus the 3 or so dozen bare bum hand smacks he had already received. Finally, a mussed-haired, red faced sobbing little boy came into Travis room, his hands rubbing his bum as he wailed and sobbed. Travis saw for the first time his brother's behind and cringed. Very red angry welts were forming. Instinctively, Travis reached out to TJ and quickly cuddled him in a bear hug; apologizing to TJ for getting him into trouble he reached out for some Noxema to smear on his little brother's bottom. But he was interrupted.
"Travis, son, please come in here so we can get this over with," said the lad's father. Travis' heart quickened and somebody released a bag of stirred up butterflies in his tummy. He asked to use the washroom first, then crept slowly back up the hallway to the room where his dad waited. TJ layed on his front, still sobbing and rubbing his behind as Travis walked past.
Beside dad lay the strap, a piece of an old gunbelt the police wear, that dad used on his boys and a plexiglas paddle with holes drilled in it. His father fixed him with a sad but steely gaze.
" You know what to do, son," he said. Then:
" I haven't even started to figure out what the best way to punish the two of you for your careless and irresponsible behaviour. I hope you feel bad, Travis, I just gave your brother the ass-tanning of his life. I'm about to do the same with you. You're getting pretty big to spank, but I'm about to make an exception. Belt or paddle, your choice?"
Travis contemplated this choice. The belt stung, the paddle did too, but didn't leave welts. He had to make a decision, but both hurt like hell.
"I'll take the paddle, I guess," he stammered.
"Ok. 30 swats on the bare bum," the father turned and picked up the paddle. "I'm sorry, I love you, but come here," he said.
Travis complied though none-too-hastily. As he slid his pants down, and then his briefs, a wave of shame rushed through him. His penis stood, half erect, something Travis had noticed when he had been spanked the last few times. In fact, Travis secretly fantasized about spanking smaller kids than he, and took great pleasure in watching depictions of kids being spanked. He had learned to jerk off after his own spankings and he would come as he fantasized about making a boy undress and at the image of a struggling squirming youngster's bottom turning red . But for now, he had his own ordeal to go through.
His dad motioned him to the chair in the center of the room, then stepped in close to his trembling son.
"Bend over the back of the chair with your palms on the seat," he ordered.
Travis slowly bent, feeling vulnerable and resigned to his fate. The cool room air wafted across the boys' naked rump and dad was lecturing him, but Travis wasn't hearing. He was instead bracing himself mentally for what was about to come. Thus he never saw his dad bring the paddle back and aim for Travis' quivering behind.
Suddenly a sound like a gunshot filled the room.
"CRACK!!"
The swat was so intense it knocked the air out of Travis and he nearly lost his balance. The skin of his bum blanced as it compressed under the paddle and bounced back, seemingly numb. Then "CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!" the paddle slapped into the boy's buttocks again. This time Travis heard an anguished and intense howl escape from his lips as an unbelievable sting enveloped his lower body. "CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!" the paddle bounced again and again off Travis' clenched butt, wielded expertly by his father who was making sure every inch of skin got swatted. Travis began to plunge, twist and writhe wildly trying to deflect the incoming assault on his butt. He heard more loud moans yelps and shrieks and realized they were his. The sensation in his burning bum was like he had sat in hot coals, an absolutely excruciating stinging throbbing pain. He couldn't catch his breath between swats. But he still stood, stoically, as his father continued to paddle-spank the bare young boy bottom spread before him."CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!..." -- Yeeeowch!-- one swat smacked Travis across his thighs. His bottom now was un undescribable rainbow of pink, red, crimson, even white splotches left by the paddle edge. He bawled and sobbed violently, on the verge of his knees buckling, when Dad finally stopped. The father went to Travis, pulling him into an embrace, kissng him and saying nothing as he steered the red-assed red-feced boy to his bed. Sweaty, crying and exhausted Travis collapsed face down. He continued to cry and sob for 30 minutes more as the fire in his loins burnt down to the comforting warmth that Travis could jerk off to. Later, he went to TJ, asleep with his pants down, still on his tummy, and gently rubbed Noxema into the angry red bottom. TJ stirred from his sleep long enough to mumble "oww" to his big brother before saying " I love you Travis." Choked up with emotion and love for his brother, stiff and sore himself he reached over and kissed his brother on the neck, stroked his hair and rubbed the 9 year olds' bottom until TJ fell asleep again. It was over, now, for both. Tomorrow was another day;today would be forgotten, like always, except for the memories the boys would have. Travis went to his room, climbed into bed, and fell asleep, safe in the knowledge they were loved...