"Mark! Come Here!" There was anger in that voice. Emerging from his room, Mark entered the living room to find his mother, his father, and his 14-year-old brother Billy. Ominously, Billy had a smirk on his face. "Mark," barked his father, "who gave you the authority to spank your brother with a belt?"

"Well," stuttered Mark, "he's 14 now and he was smoking and lied about it. I thought a hand-spanking wasn't enough of a punishment."

"That's not for you to decide, boy! We didn't spank you with a belt when you were 14, and we certainly didn't authorize you to spank Billy with a belt! We thought you were old enough to take on some responsibility, but maybe we were wrong." With that, Mark's father unbuckled his belt, pulled it out of his pant loops, and doubled it over in his right hand. "Go over to the hassock, lower your pants and bend over it."

"But dad, I'm 17! I'm too old to spank!"

"DO AS I SAID!" was the sharp response. Sheepishly, Mark walked over to the large overstuffed hassock, unhitched and lowered his trousers, and leaned over the hassock, leaving his jockey-covered behind slightly elevated. Striding over to his son, the incensed father reached down and pulled the boy's oversized shirt up to his armpits. He then slid his fingers under the elastic binding of the underpants and quickly yanked them down to the flustered youngster's ankles. "Dad! Not bare! Mom's here!"

"You spanked your brother's bottom bare; you're going to get the same treatment. As for your mother, she know's what boys look like." With that, he raised the doubled over leather belt above his shoulder and brought it down sharply across the boy's bared, smooth bottom. "OW-W-W!" Not having been spanked himself for over two years, and then never with a belt, Mark was not prepared for the sharp burning pain across his buttocks. Pausing several seconds between each blow, his father methodically and expertly continued the spanking, laying the belt across every inch of the youngster's butt. By the third spank, Mark was involuntarily arching his back and crying. With a self-satisfied smile, Billy relished every moment, as the number of bright red criss-crossing slashes across Mark's bottom multiplied. Their father was spanking Mark much harder than Mark had spanked him. On the 8th blow, Mark brought his hand up across his fanny in an attempt to protect ward off the stinging blows, but his father paused only long enough to take him by the wrist and pull the hand up to the small of his back before re-commencing the methodical spanking. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the spanking stopped. "Now go to your room and get in bed. Now. And if I hear a peep from you, I'll warm your butt again. Is that understood?" Mark replied meekly, "Yes, sir." Turning to Billy, the father said, "Now, boy, what's this about smoking?" Startled, the smile dropped off Billy's face. "I just tried it once," he stuttered, "honest."

"That's once too many," was the reply. Seizing the younger boy by his arm, the father quickly unbuckled his pants, pulling them down along with his underpants. Sitting down on the recently vacated hassock, he placed the 14-year-old over his knees, raised his open hand high and brought it down in the first of a rapid succession of spanks across the smaller bottom. Helplessly kicking his bare legs, Billy endured his second tanning within hours, an expensive price for a cigarette that he hadn't even enjoyed. Soon, two severely chastized bottoms were in their respective beds, with their owners lying stomach down to minimize the discomfort of the sound parental chastizement.