My friend Adam and I had been best friends since the second grade. We were now entering the ninth grade and were still soul mates. We had discovered right away, at age seven, that we were both spanked when we were bad. This had been an early source of childhood bonding. We shared all the details with each other: both of us got over-the-knee spankings; Adam was spanked by his mother, while either my mother or my father might spank me; Adam's mother spanked him with her hand or hairbrush, while I got hand spankings from my mother or the hand or the belt from my father; Adam was only spanked on the bare bottom when he was particularly bad, and otherwise got it on the underwear or pajama bottoms, but I was always spanked with pants and underpants down.
We were relatively well-behaved children, but spankings happened every few months. When they did, we told each other all about it. Sometimes we got into trouble together, and then either commiserated the next day about the spankings we had each received, or else one of us comforted the other if only one of us got a spanking. On one memorable occasion Adam's mother caught the two of us smoking cigarettes, and with my mother's permission, spanked me as well as Adam – the first and only time I felt the hairbrush!
Spanking wasn't the only thing we shared, of course. And as we entered puberty, quite naturally we got together in private to explore our growing bodies and new sensations. Sometimes, as we masturbated we discussed girls and speculated about _s_e_x_; sometimes we ended up discussing spanking fantasies, and found that we both found them very exciting. Often Adam would say, "Remember when Mom spanked *you* with the hairbrush?" I'd reply, "WOW, that hurt!" and we'd relive the way she had sternly informed us what we were in for, and the way we'd had to nervously pull down our pants and lie over her lap.
As we got older, spankings decreased in frequency. By the time we were 12, we decided we were too old for it. Then Adam had stayed out way too late one night and discovered that he wasn't too old for it at all! Then nothing, until at age 13 I was given a rather perfunctory spanking by my mother for being disrespectful. That one almost didn't count, and we figured yet again that by now – nearing 14, 9th-graders, for goodness' sake! – we were way too big and mature to be spanked. But there was still that lingering doubt....
And one day the doubt was disspelled. Adam had come over to my house after school. My mother was out and wouldn't be home until late, but the mail had arrived before she had gone out, including my report card – particularly bad this time. She had taken the time to call my father at work and tell him about it. My performance in school was a big issue this year, and I had taken to being rebellious and defiant, which my parents did not appreciate at all.
The phone rang. As my father read me the riot act, I became increasingly glum. After he had hung up, I went back up to my room. Adam saw something was wrong right away.
"What happened? Was that your father?"
"Yeah. Mom told him about my report card."
"Oh, man. Are you in trouble?"
"I'm in *big* trouble." I sat down heavily on my bed. "The biggest."
We sat in silence for a moment. Adam was burning with curiosity.
"So what are they going to do? Do you think...."
"I don't think, I know," I snapped. "He *told* me. He's going to use his belt."
Adam was a little shocked. "Really? I mean, _d_a_m_n_. But, like... when?"
"He's coming home from work early. He'll probably be here in an hour."
"And he'll... he'll..."
"Yes!" I shouted. "He'll give me a whipping! He's going to whip my ass with his belt. I can't believe this. I'm 14!"
Adam was breathless. "And does he... I mean – how does... I mean –"
I knew what he wanted to know. "Dad hasn't given me a whipping since I was about ten. Usually he would just spank me. So he's really mad now. And I always get it pants down."
"_d_a_m_n_," said Adam with feeling. "I know what that's like. Remember when Mom spanked us both, pants down, with her hairbrush? Pants down is the worst!"
I bit my lip. This wasn't fantasies to jack off by, this was real! It was going to hurt like hell! The butterflies in my stomach descended below the waist. Adam fidgeted and shifted in the chair where he was sitting.
"Look at you!" I said. "You're getting a hard-on, aren't you? I'm going to get my ass whipped and you're getting a hard-on!"
Adam blushed. "I can't help it," he said. "I always get one when I think about spanking. So do you, normally!"
And in fact, I was getting one now myself. I groaned and grabbed my crotch. "How can this be happening?" I asked. "He's really going to whip me!" I stood up and paced the floor, then sat back down on the bed. I was so tense, so upset, and so perversely aroused by the thought of my own upcoming punishment, that I wanted badly to masturbate just to relieve tension.
I unbuckled my belt, unzipped my trousers and slid them down. Adam looked at me in surprise. I was on the verge of tears, I was so angry and apprehensive, but I didn't care. "We might as well," I muttered. I slipped my underwear down too and took my erection in my hand.
Adam quickly dropped his pants too. After a moment, Adam said, "How exactly does he do it?"
"He'll come up the stairs to my room," I said, imagining the scene. "Then he'll start lecturing me about my report card while he takes his belt off."
"And then?"
"Then he'll just keep lecturing for a few minutes, with the belt doubled up in his hand."
"And?"
"And then he'll sit in the chair where you're sitting and call me over to him."
"He sits here? And where do you go?"
"I lie over his lap."
"With your pants down?"
"Of course. First he'll make me pull down my pants and underwear, then I'll go over his lap."
The thought that this was really going to happen to me shortly brought me close to panic. I lay face down on the bed with my face in the pillow, trying to calm down.
I glanced over to where Adam was sitting. He was really getting into it. I felt strange about what we were doing, but in spite of the anxiety I was very excited myself. I moved my hips, rubbing myself against the bed.
"And then he starts with the belt?"
"Yeah. He's going to start slow, and not real, real hard, just enough to really sting. Then he'll start whipping harder, then faster, until it really hurts. It always makes me cry. I guess I'll cry this time too." In fact I was almost crying already.
"How long does it last?"
"I don't know. It's going to feel like it'll never end, I know that. He'll go on for as long as he wants to. God, it's going to hurt, and I just have to lie there while he whips me."
I rolled over on to my back and started masturbating vigorously. "God, it'll hurt – he'll whip me – and whip me – and whip me –" With a long groan, I came. The tension flooded out of me, and the sensation was sharp and delicious. Then I lay still, my heart thudding, catching my breath. As my erection subsided, anxiety returned. My whipping was really going to happen!
I reached out and got some Kleenex from the box on my bedside table and wiped myself clean. I stood up and pulled my pants back up. Adam was still jacking off, breathing hard, his eyes half-closed. Suddenly we heard the sound of my father's car screeching into the driveway. The door slammed and the front door of my house opened a moment later.
Adam's eyes widened. My father's footsteps were already coming up the stairs. Pants still around his ankles, Adam scurried quickly to my closet, got in, and closed the door behind him. I shoved the Kleenex under my pillow and suddenly, there was my father in the doorway.
My heart began to pound. "So," he said, "Three Fs! This from a boy capable of all A's. Do you really think we're going to let you get away with this kind of behavior?"
"I'm sorry, Dad," I mumbled.
"You'll be sorrier, believe me." He unbuckled his belt and slid it off, doubling it in his fist. He was a broad, tall, muscular man. "Do you have any particular excuses for this report card? Any reason you think you don't deserve to be punished?"
"Math is really hard this year," I said.
"And science, too, I guess, and English. And your French marks aren't great, either. Maybe you wouldn't find your subjects so hard if you studied now and then, or did your homework more often?"
"I study!" I protested. "I do my homework!"
"Don't bull_s_h_i_t_ me, young man. Last year you were an A and B student. It's your study habits that you're not paying any attention to. I know what you're capable of, and it's more than this. You need a wake-up call, son, and I'm about to give it to you."
The butterflies in my stomach and abdomen were fluttering like mad. I was still a little hard from having just masturbated, and the thought of the punishment to come was having an effect too. I tried to keep calm.
Dad went and sat in the chair Adam had vacated minutes before. I was embarassed to think he was hiding in the closet hearing everything and no doubt jacking off.
"Come here," he said solemnly, "And take your pants down."
I went to his side. Nervously, I undid my trousers and pushed them down. I left my underwear on, embarassed at the thought of any further exposure.
"Sorry," said Dad, "Underpants too!" and he yanked them down himself. My semi-erection flopped up and down. Mortified, I covered myself with my hands, but Dad grabbed me under the arms and pulled me across his lap. My pants and underwear slid to my ankles and I found myself head down, my hands and toes touching the floor, my naked bottom square and center in his lap.
"I hate to have to do this," he began, and brought the belt down sharply. "But if you're going to behave like a little boy," and down came the belt again. "Then I'm going to treat you like one," and the belt continued. He was whipping me harder than I had remembered him doing when I was younger, but I suppose he figured I was older and deserved it. I flinched at each slicing slap of the belt and began to cry. He continued lecturing but I could no longer pay attention to his words. The blaze consuming my bottom was all I was aware of. Eventually he stopped talking and kept whipping me, the only sound being my own crying and the loud whap! of leather on flesh.
A couple of weeks later, the house was empty again except for Adam and me. We were side by side on my bed, naked, leaning back against the wall and stroking our erections.
"I couldn't believe how long he kept it up," said Adam, something like admiration in his voice. "I've never been spanked that long!"
"I couldn't believe you were there in the closet listening to it all!" I replied. "But after a while I wasn't thinking about you any more."
"I'll bet you weren't. I've never seen a butt as red as yours was!"
"Can you believe you were there and he never knew? I was amazed you managed to sneak out of the house afterwards!"
"Well, I had to hide in there, didn't I? He came up those stairs so fast I didn't have time to pull my pants up! He would have seen me jacking off!"
"And you kept jacking off, didn't you? While I was getting whipped!"
"Well... I'm sorry, but I couldn't help it. It was really intense. But I didn't come!"
"Not until after it was over, anyway."
"We both did!"
"I had such a boner. Even though I was crying so hard and it hurt so much, I was hard as a rock. Dad didn't notice, though, when he finished and I went over to my bed and lay face down."
"Oh, come on, he couldn't have *not* noticed when you first stood up. He probably just didn't want to say anything."
"But afterwards, when you came out and we jacked off? God, that was good."
"I know. You were still crying, but you spurted all the way up past your shoulder!"
"A record!"
"Think you can beat it?"
"I can try! Here –" I rolled over. "Inspire me." This was a new thing we had started doing since my whipping. Adam leaned over and spanked my ass hard, five or six times.
I rolled back over, closed my eyes and searched for the pleasure in the pain.