It generally sucked being sixteen and having to share a bedroom with my twelve year-old brother. But it came in handy one Friday evening when I ran a little short of money. Since I knew where Joel hid his paper-route money, and since he'd gone over to our cousin's house around the block, presumably to say over, I decided to "borrow" some dough for the evening. I had every intention of returning it; a friend owed me money, and I would see him that night, so it would all even out before my brother even noticed.

When I came home late that night, I discovered that Joel and our cousin Jared had decided to stay at our house, and were fast asleep in our room. The whole house was dark and asleep. I figured that when the boys went down to breakfast in the morning I could sneak the money back.

I never had the chance. Apparently the missing funds had been noticed the night before, when the boys wanted to go to the mall for a movie. The first thing I heard, at maybe nine am, was Dad's voice telling me to get up.

"On your feet, Adam," Dad boomed.

I pulled myself out of bed. In only my underwear, I shivered. Joel and Jared were up, standing a yard or two behind my father.

"Did I raise you to be a thief, young man?"

"No."

"Then why did you steal money from your brother?" As the sole suspect, I was, obviously, presumed guilty.

"I didn't," I stammered.

"Then who did, the tooth fairy?"

"I was just borrowing it--"

"Did you ask to borrow it?"

"No," I admitted, hanging my head.

"Then that's stealing, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Remember a couple of years back, when Joel got into your things? Remember how angry you were? I taught him a firm lesson about respecting property and asking permission. Looks like I'm going to have to teach it to you, now.

"The first thing you are going to do is give him his money back."

Without arguing, I walked over to get my wallet and get the money. I handed it to my brother.

"You're going to apologize, too," Dad ordered.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"You'll have to do better than that."

"I'm sorry," I repeated.

"You don't seem very contrite. But I'm sure after being punished you will be," he told me. He walked over to my closet, reached in, and emerged with a thick leather belt.

My first thought was, 'you're kidding, right?'.

"Take those off," he said, in reference to my briefs.

"Dad, I'm sixteen," I said quietly, not wanting to provoke him.

"Yes you are, and I thought you might have learned about respect by now. But it seems you haven't, so it's time you got the same lesson your brother got when he was ten. NOW, Adam."

I knew better than to argue. I slipped out of my underwear. With a single look Dad signalled for me to bend over across the bed. My bare buns waited for something they hadn't felt in years--the bite of a leather belt.

And just when I thought I was at my lowest, Dad completed my humiliation by announcing that, "Since you have an obvious problem respecting your brother, he's the one who's going to give you the spanking."

He handed the belt to Joel. I don't know whose jaw dropped quicker, my brother's or mine. Instead of receiving an embarrassing bare-assed spanking in front of my kid brother, I was receiving one from him.

Joel brought the belt across my bottom with a sharp "crack!". It wasn't so bad. The second wasn't too terrible either. But he was just warming up--the ones after that had me groaning and twiching.

Any chance of me holding onto any sort of dignity flew out the window when I started to cry. I gave up trying to control myself.

After maybe thirty strokes, Dad told him to stop. He ordered me to apologize, and between sobs I managed to tell Joel that I was sorry. Dad warned me that if I didn't respect my brother from that point on, I'd face another spanking. I nodded obediently, and Dad left the room.

I crawled back into bed and pulled the blanket up over me. I buried my head between two pillows and began to wallow in my sorrows. My brother and my cousin left the room.

Within half an hour, Joel and Jared were back, and they weren't alone. They'd brought four friends, three boys and a girl. I couldn't kick them out because it was Joel's room, too. And under the circumstances, my father would definitely side with my brother, as a way of teaching me a lesson.

More than that, though, I was spent. The punishment had taken my energy as well as my dignity. I also knew that Dad and Joel were right--I had a bad attitude toward my brother. I treated him like crap consistently even though he was basically a good kid.

So when Joel, smirking, grabbed the edge of my blanket and yanked, I had neither the energy nor the will to struggle with him. He wanted to show his little friends how he'd beaten me, and I, beaten, let him do it. They gawked at my bare ass, which I'm sure looked as sore as it felt.

"Still crying, Adam?" he asked, snatching the pillow from my face. I was no longer crying, but my cheeks were still wet.

He had me right where he wanted me, and I didn't disappoint him. I turned and reached for the pillow. This movement allowed his friends to see not only my wet, tearstained face but my exposed genitals, too. Everyone got a nice long look at my soft _d_i_c_k_ hanging there limply between my legs.

Satisfied, Joel and his entourage left me alone. I buried my head again and hated him for a minute. But only for a minute. After all, I'd pushed him around in front of my friends millions of times. He was only showing me how much I'd hurt him.

I spent the day in bed, reflecting on this, as had been the post-spanking procedure when I was younger. I thought of all the times I'd knocked him around, made sport of him, made him kneel and beg for mercy.

Joel came up before dinner, alone. "Dinner's at five. Are you coming down?"

"I don't know."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just . . . sorry. Not just about the money, either, but all the _s_h_i_t_ I'm always putting you through. I'm really sorry, okay?"

"Okay," he said. "And I guess I'm sorry about bringing my friends up. It was a pretty rotten thing to do."

"Yeah, it was. But I've had it coming to me for a long time, I suppose. I'm a rotten prick to you most of the time."

"Yeah, you are," he agreed. "But you're the only brother I have. We're stuck with each other."

"Yup. Guess so."

"So let me look at your red ass again," he said with glee.

"Oh, for god's sake, Joel . . . "

"Hey, this is the one and only time I'VE ever made YOU cry for ME to stop. If you're going to respect me, start with this."

I sighed and threw back the covers. He sat up and pulled me across his lap. His fingers traced the marks he'd made with the belt on my buns.

My younger brother . . . what a pain in my ass.