Brad and I were high school pals and we even worked together in a restaurant after school. Brad was a good looking guy who surfed a lot and had a good build, with blonde hair and blue eyes. We sort of knew everything about each other and all our family problems especially how we got along with our own dads. Brad's was a lot stricter than mine.
One night I was driving Brad back to his house and we went into his bedroom to listen to some music. He was telling me that dad had whipped him the week before for staying out late with me and telling me how he got it. He told me his dad made him bend over and gave him ten hard swats with the belt. If Brad didn't make a sound or get up, that was it. If he didn't keep still, his dad whipped the crap out of him. We started to argue because I told Brad that didn't sound so bad. Brad got mad because I said this since he knew I had not been spanked since I was a kid. He wanted to bet me that I couldn't take it.
"What do you mean, bet? How are we going to bet on something like this" I asked him
Brad said he would give me the ten licks with his belt. If I took them without making a sound or getting up, I would win the bet. If I got up, Brad won the bed. I told him I didn't want to but he kept after me, telling me I had to admit he was right then. I asked him what we were going to bet. He said that since I was going to come over and stay with him for a weekend while both our parents were out of town, the winner got to be the boss for the whole weekend and the other had to do everything the winner said. I thought that sounded pretty good and didn't think ten whacks on my jeans would hurt that much so I said 'okay'.
Brad and I were dressed in almost identical outfits from work. Black pants with white short sleeved dress shirts. Brad stood up and unbuckled his black dress belt and pulled it off, doubling it up. It didn't look like it would hurt too much. It was an ordinary black belt and not too wide or thick.
"OKay, get up and bend over," he said. I stood up and bent over and Brad told me to grab my ankles and hold on. I grabbed them and waited. I could hear Brad's belt buckle tinkling as he walked around to stand behind me.
WHACK! The first swat was really hard and I was surprised how hard he hit me, but I was able to hold on and not get up or say anything.
WHACK WHACK WHACK The next three were just as hard and I almost yelped on the last one, but I stayed down and didn't say anything.
Brad wanted to win this contest because the next three were really hard WHACK!!! WHACK!!! WHACK!!! I could hardly keep quiet and I wanted to jump up and rub my butt. Neither Brad nor I said anything but then WHACK!!!!
"Yeow!!" I said, jumping up. Brad looked at me and smiled.
"I won" he said, casually dropping his belt on his bed. I could only think about how sore my butt was and I rubbed it, forgetting about the consequences of losing the bet.
The next weekend I arrived to spend the weekend and we were having a good time. It was late and we were in our boxer shorts planning to go to bed soon, hanging around in his bedroom listening to his stereo.
"Go in the kitchen and get us a couple of sodas" Brad said.
"You go get them, you're the host" I replied.
Brad looked at me and he got a look on his face that I had known for some time, it meant he was getting mad.
"Did you forget our bet? You agreed I was the total boss. Now go get those sodas."
Thinking it was a small thing, I went into the kitchen and brought back a few sodas. When I got back, Brad had a surprise for me.
"Okay, you didn't do what you were told to do and now you have to pay the price," he said, looking at me angrily, "You're going to get the belt again."
I tried talking Brad out of it but he reminded me I had agreed to do everything he said and he was telling me I was going to get it. He went into the closet and took out his jeans that had a belt on them. He pulled off that belt. It was a pretty wide and heavy brown belt. Then he doubled it up.
"Okay, bend over young man"
I told him I just had my boxers on and I wanted to put my jeans back on. Brad told me if I didn't bend over quickly I would have to take my boxers down as well. I knew him and knew this argument was going to go nowhere.
I turned around and bent over again. Brad walked behind me.
"I am going to teach you a good lesson. From now on, whether this weekend or not, you are gonig to do what I tell you, do you understand?"
I couldn't believe he was going this far. "I only agreed to do it this weekend, not foreover!"
WHACK! Wow, this heavy belt hurt like hell.
"This is the new rule. Your whipping does not even start until you accept. I think you could use a little discipline anyway and I care enough to do it. So do you understand, young man?"
I didn't say anything for a moment. WHACK!
"Okay, okay" I said.
With that, Brad drew back and delivered a really hard swat with his brown belt. WHACK. I kept down. WHACK WHACK WHACK. This was hurting a lot more than the black belt because it was heavier and I had no jeans on. WHACK. "Oww" I said, and started to stand up.
"Get down!" Brad shouted and started hitting me harder, using his left hand to try to hold me down. I was struggling to get up.
"Okay, stop and listen!" Brad said. "You can stand up."
I stood up, rubbing my butt. Brad looked at me angrily, holding the belt by his side.
"You might as well get used to this because you're going to get this from now on when you don't do what you're told or you misbehave. If you don't, our friendship is over. Now what is it?"
I wondered what do do. He was my best friend and we had a lot of fun, before now. I thougth maybe I would learn something from this and maybe he would not do it much.
"Bend over!" he said.
I turned around and bent over and Brad put his hand on the back of my neck and started applying the belt. WHACK WHACK I was yelling because it didn't make any difference but Brad didn't stop. He gave me at least another dozen swats and then let me up.
"Put my belt back on my jeans!" I threaded his belt back on his jeans and we went to bed. That whipping was memorable enough to make me do what he said he rest of that weekend. Brad didn't mention it again for weeks. So I thought maybe it was just a fluke and he wouldn't do it again. The one day, I decided to play hooky with another friend and skip the afternoon classes. The next day, Brad asked if I was sick. I told him we had just cut out.
"That's cause," He said.
"What do you mean, 'cause'?" I asked.
"Cause for a whipping," He replied. He didn't smile.
I didn't respond because I hoped he was kidding. After school we went to his house and we went into his bedroom. After a while, Brad left for a few minutes and then he came back in. He was carrying a wide leather belt.
"This is my dad's fireman's belt," he said. I didn't know what to say.
"You're going to get a whipping for cutting school" Brad said, flexing the belt.
"Come on, Brad, you're not my dad."
"Listen, you and I made a deal. Now turn around and bend over and be glad I don't make you take your jeans down. If you stay down, you'll get 12."
I figured it did no good to argue except to make him madder so I turned around. He didn't hold me down but came around behind me.
KERRACK! Boy, this belt hurt even more than his! The first swat was followed by six more without stopping. I was really wanting to yell out but I figured I might make it through and get no more. Brad hit even harder. Finally, we got to the last swat. WHACK. I had made it. Brad seemed surprised but that was all I got with his dad's fireman's belt, although I met Brad's belt again from time to time.