Oliver Beane Part One


by Ricky Scarma (Click for Author's Home Page)<Ricky13@email.com>

"This is totally unacceptable!" Oliver Beanes dad bellowed, kicking pieces of a shattered bookshelf and odds and ends of boyhood collectables that had once been displayed on the shelving hed struggled to put up not more than a week ago. He was definitely ticked after what he had went through to get it up there, and now finding it in splinters.

"Uh, dad," Oliver looked noticeably nervous as did Michael who stood next to him in a turtleneck and tight olive green dress pants. "It was an accident." It was. They were trying to retrieve the wood model airplane Michael had let get caught on the top wall shelf when he threw it like it was a booger stuck on his thumb. But Olivers dad didnt look any too happy. Mostly because the sound of the splintering crash had nearly shaken the house and the man was drinking coffee in his easy chair in the living room at the time. Now most of it seemed to be all over his shirt. Who knew the shelves, all attached firmly to the wall, couldnt hold the weight of two prepubescent boys. Oliver was shorter and stout, but he figured he weighed close to his friend who stood almost a head taller. Well, at least close.

"You burned me!" The man glowered, his arms spread out as if he would fly if he could, showing the mess on his shirt and arm. "Look at this!"

"But dad...."

"But, but, but...." The man shook his head, then slowly covering his forehead with his hand, his face frozen anguish, staring at the mess of wood and metal just behind the boys. "What the!"

Olivers face dropped. Somehow he knew there was going to be trouble. For a moment he saw his mother walk into the doorway and just behind him his older brother Ted sporting a wide smile that was close to a sneer. Olivers mother shook her head and made an about face, grabbing a snickering Ted by the ear along with her.

"Youve done it this time...." Jerrys face became a deep scowl. "I went through a lot of trouble putting that together and you boys just....just...." The mans hands went up again, showing his frustration.

"It wasnt very well balanced, I think." Michael spoke up, brushing wood dust from his turtleneck.

Oliver grimaced, closed his eyes and held his breath for a moment before interrupting Michael. "Were sorry dad. We can help clean it up." And the boy reached to gather shelving.

"What you need, Oliver is discipline. Your mother is too soft on you and look where thats gotten us." Jerrys hands pointing at the mess "Look what youve done!"

The boys stared at the wreckage, then back at Jerry.

"Welp, I gotta go," Michael piped up and headed for the door, straightening his clothes. But before he could get to the door Jerry stuck out an arm, leaned into the boy and said, "Oh, no, buddy boy. You did this too."

"But...."

"No buts. Back!" Jerry pointed and the boy turned quickly to rejoin his friend.

"What am I going to do with you two?" The question was rhetorical because Jerry turned, swung the door shut behind him, then reached to his waist. Oliver gulped. Michael squirmed, suddenly feeling trapped and desperate.

"Now, Mr. Beane, I dont think...."

Jerry glared at the boy, who shut up quickly.

"Discipline," The man chanted the word while he unbuckled his belt, "Discipline."

Oliver felt suddenly sick to his stomach. The last time his dad had taken a belt to him was almost a month ago. That was a long time ago. And Michael wasnt there....just his brother and mother. This was bad, very bad.

"Oliver, you first," Jerry announced, waving the doubled up leather belt.

"Dad, Ill fix it," The boy pled, "Ill clean it up."

"No pleading. No begging. Youre getting a whipping, no discussion!" He said, gripping the leather, "And pull down your pants. Youre going to feel this bare-assed."

Michael and Oliver both suddenly looked frightened and desperate. Oliver had never been spanked bare in front of anyone else other then his family and Michael didnt look like he was used to this either. He looked as if he were going to throw up, his face pale with dire confusion and fear.

"Do it now!" Jerry spat, stomping his foot and jabbing a finger.

Oliver reached for his belt and quickly undid the front of his pants, feeling tears already forming in the corners of his eyes. He heard whimpering and turned to see his friend in tears, staring as Oliver worked his pants down his hips to his ankles. When Oliver straightened up to pull down his white cotton briefs, he felt conspicuous lowering them in front of his friend. The two had showered together in gym class a couple of times and he hadnt thought anything of it then, but he felt weird now as he lowered his under shorts to expose his privates, his thick, rounded penis flopping lazily from the cloth in full view now in front of man and boy. He looked up and found Michaels eyes on him, wide and uncertain. Oliver turned quickly, putting his hands over his penis.

The nearest piece of furniture to the boy was a dresser that stood over waist high to Oliver. He turned into the dresser and leaned across it, standing on the tips of his toes while his dad positioned himself to his left. Olivers rear end was milk white and perfectly rounded. When the boy looked up he could see from the mirror above the dresser that Michael had his eyes on his posterior, right hand over his mouth.

There was no time to think about that as a few seconds later Jerry swung the belt with a grunt and smacked the young boys bare buttocks dead center.

Thwack!

"OW!" Oliver flinched, balling his fists and gritting his teeth.

Thwack! Another smack wrapped his thigh and stung his right cheek madly. He hissed and closed his eyes tight against the sting.

He heard whimpering, opened his eyes and looked up into the mirror just as his dads arm swung the belt again, slapping the lower end of his right butt cheek. Thwack! It burned and Oliver reacted by shoving his hips into the dresser and gripping his butt, holding his hands tight against the top of the dresser.

Thwack! Another smack burned his left buttock. Oliver stood further on the tips of toes, pressing his legs against the hardwood and held his breath and his cries between gritted teeth.

Thwack! The belt seared deep into his right cheek and Oliver had no way of stopping his outcry. He felt the sting like a grease burn sizzling across his hind end.

"OOOOWWW!" The boy squalled and bounced against the dressers edge.

Thwack!

Michael stood at a safe distance, crying fully now, watching red streaks rise across his friends once pale, perfectly round bottom.

Thwack!

"OW OW OW!" Oliver hollered, his face grimacing, hands now dancing at his sides.

Thwack!

"Please daddy, please!" Oliver bawled, dancing against the dresser and squirming his butt cheeks to fight the burn dancing across his flesh.

Thwack!

"Are you going to make stupid decisions like this anymore?" Jerry questioned and swung the belt.

Thwack! The boys butt quivered.

"NO! NO! I wont!"

Thwack! Oliver squealed, twisting his hips and clenching his butt cheeks.

"Are you sure?"

Thwack! The boy gripped the edge of the dresser with white knuckles and howled against the searing left by the belt against his right cheek.

"Im sure!"

Thwack!

"Im sure! I wont do it again!"

Thwack!

"I wont...."

Thwack!

"Please dad, please...."

Thwack!

"Please it hurts!"

Thwack!

"Good." Jerry finally said, but gave no reprieve from the whipping, intensified his blows, swinging harder and quicker.

Kathwack!

"OOWWW....."

Thwack!

"Im sorry! Thwack! "Im sorry, please!" The pain was unbearable and Oliver was squirming in a frenzy against the dresser, his penis jabbing and poking the wood.

Thwack! Jerry ignored the boys pleas and swung the belt even harder.

Kathwack! Welts rose across Olivers cheeks, crisscrossed and livid.

Thwack! "Please daddy please!" Oliver howled, reached one hand back and felt the burn of the belt across the back of his hand as the belt slapped his right cheek. He quickly pulled it back.

Thwack! Jerry swung the belt once more, hard and strong and watched the leather wrap his sons now crimson thighs. "You make sure you do." The man said and stepped back, watching Oliver grip both cheeks in his hands, howling and rubbing in a dance against the dresser, not caring how he looked, his face as bright red as his hind end.

"Michael, youre next...."

To be continued....


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