First Bare Bottom Spanking

I spent most of the summer my parents separated at my best friend Mike's house. He lived about ten minutes from me if I took the trail through the woods to the south of our neighborhood. I would end up coming off the trail just where his dad had his wood pile. Go around the wood pile and up the small rise and I'd end up in his back yard, surrounded by trees and all sorts of bushes that were in need of trimming. His mother had died when he was young and his dad hadn't remarried by that point.

We had built a 'fort' that stood in the far corner, with scrap lumber his dad let us take and we'd do normal boy stuff back there. I tried my first cigarette back there (yuck), we tried our first beer there (not bad) and when I discovered my dads secret stash of Playboy and Penthouse mags we checked out those in the 'fort' too.

Most of the time though we were outside riding our bikes somewhere, playing baseball at the park or just wasting time.

One day shortly after school let out for the summer, we were in his back yard tossing the ball back and forth waiting for a friend to call so we could meet up. I had my back towards the house and Mike threw the ball too fast. I got my glove up but I hadn't reacted fast enough. It hit the top edge of my glove hard enough to bend my wrist back, ricocheted off and sailed through the window over the kitchen sink.

The look on Mike's face was half astonishment, half horror. "Why didn't you catch that?" It was more of a panicked statement than a question.

"You freakin' whipped it at me!" I said in defense.

Suddenly his dad was at the sliding glass doors. "What the **** are you two doing?!" He shouted, very angrily.

Mike's dad is a tall guy. I'm guessing 6'3'' or 6'4'', slim but not skinny. Huge hands that served him well as a professional carpenter. Long arms with well defined muscles, tan, clean shaven, piercing, almost black eyes and very short brown curly hair.

As he stepped through the sliders, he strode straight to where Mike was standing, ending up inches from him.

"How many times did I tell you two not to play ball back here?" His now quiet voice was no more calm than when he initially shouted at us.

Mike tried to stammer out a reply "Dad. Please. W-we were just tossing..."

"...the ball in the back yard as if I never told you not to do it, right?" His father finished for him. "What did I tell you would happen if I caught you doing that again?"

"I'd be grounded." Mike answered quietly not making eye contact.

"That's right!" Mr. Walker said with feigned enthusiasm. "But not only did you disobey me, you broke a window in the process, there's glass all over the kitchen and in the sink and I have to replace a window!" The last few words building from a near whisper to a shout.

"Dad I'm sorry..."

"Shut up. Your mouth is just gonna make it worse for you. You can tell Adam (me) that you are going to be busy for the next few minutes laying across my knee getting your bare *** spanked. After that you'll be cleaning up the mess in the kitchen. By then I'll have a list of things for you to do." He turned to me. "And if I were you, I'd be headed back down that trail, unless you want what he's getting."

Without waiting for a response he turned back to Mike, grabbed the scruff of his neck and led him into the house. All the while with Mike pleading and saying how sorry he was. "Oh you're gonna be sorry." Mr. Walker said, and the sliding door shut behind them.

I was in shock. My butt was puckered and I felt like I had to pee. My mouth was dry and I was trembling. I had known Mr. Walker had a bit of a temper, but to my knowledge he hadn't spanked Mike since we were in the third grade. I had never been spanked by my parents, and it was very difficult for me to get my head around the fact that at our age Mike was about to get it again.

I started to walk toward where my bike was laying by the wood pile when I heard it. I wouldn't have if the kitchen window wasn't busted all to hell, but it sounded as if they were right by it.


I was frozen stiff and I could feel my heart pounding. Mike was nearly screaming as the spanks came in very rapid succession. I knew he was really getting a working over from the sound of it. It sounded like a cap gun. Very loud. Mr. Walker neither stopped to rest nor did he slow down for a good two minutes. He probably spanked him 200 swats in that time. By the end of it all I could hear was Mike sobbing and saying how sorry he was.

"I know you are." His dad said. "Maybe you'll remember this the next time you feel like forgetting a simple rule. NO playing ball in the back yard. Got it?"

"Yes..." was Mike's whiney reply.


"YES SIR!" More sobbing.

"Get up and go sit on your bed until you get yourself together. Then you come right down and clean up that mess in the kitchen, got it?"

"Yes sir."

I began to walk towards my bike again when the sliding glass door opened again. That's when I realized I should have been gone a while ago.

"Didn't I tell you to get your *** going?" Mr. Walker stood in the doorway again, red faced, towering and very intimidating.

Yes Mr. Walker I'm leaving, I was just...." I couldn't think of anything. I was just what? Scared stiff? Shocked into the form of a statue? Or was it curiosity?

"Come here." He said with a finger gesture my mom often used when she wanted to ***** about something.

I really wanted to leave and was now stepping backwards "I'm sorry Mr. Walker. I'm going now."

"I said, get your *** over here Adam." I froze again. I remembered quite clearly him saying if I didn't leave I'd get what Mike was getting.

"Don't make me say it again." He said. I slowly began walking toward him with awkward steps trying to formulate some kind of bullshit to talk my way out of it. Nothing would come though. I had thought I might run, but then there's no way I would ever be able to come over here again. Once I got about ten feet away I stopped and was told to come here again. I took a few more steps until I was just out of arms reach.

"Did you think I was kidding when I told you to leave?"

"No sir" I said thinking the 'sir' might buy me some points. Nope.

"Come in." It wasn't a request.

Shaking with a lump in my throat and truly terrified I followed the large man into the house. Instead of going to the dining room where a single chair had been pulled away from the table he led me to the basement steps. We went down to the game room where Mike and I had played pool hundreds of times, threw darts and most recently played atari 'till all hours of the night.

Mr. Walker stopped and turned. "You boys need to learn to respect adults. I know your mom and dad have split and there isn't much in the way of fatherly guidance at your house now. I also know I'm not your father but in my house I make the rules. If I tell you to do something while you're here I expect it done. I told you to leave and you decided to stay. I could ask why but I don't really care. I think it's a better idea to make an example. When was the last time your parents gave you a spanking?"

I was even more terrified and close to crying. I could only shake my head.

"Never?" He asked, not sure he believed me.

"n-n-no.." I managed to choke out of a closed throat, gulping audibly at what seemed to be a lemon sized lump there.

"Then this should be a real eye opener for you." The preamble was over. He sat on the beat up old sofa they had down there, grabbed my wrist and with one practiced motion pulled me across his lap. "Lift your butt" he said.

I tried to say something in protest thinking he was gonna start hitting my butt, instead he yanked at the back of my gym shorts and briefs, and suddenly I could feel cool air on my exposed cheeks. I was shocked and tried to slide off his lap backwards, but he must have been wise to that maneuver. I was hauled forward until my face was against the sofa cushion and my shorts and undies were pulled to my knees.

I felt a hand at the small of my back then it happened. The room filled with what sounded like a pistol crack reverberating off the crappy paneling found in so many finished basement rooms at the time. The harshness of the sting was slightly delayed but when it registered in my brain my body involuntarily went rigid. Before I could cry out though, another smack, then another. I gasped each time not able to exhale. I was pushing with both hands against his left thigh head up and back, legs rigid and pointed straight out behind me.

Spank after spank rained down on my exposed rear. I was bucking and kicking like crazy but he held me tight and kept beating my poor bare cheeks. He stopped long enough to readjust me on his lap. His knee went between my legs and, because he was wearing shorts, my penis and balls were pressed against his bare knee. He wrapped his left arm around my waist and said "You wiggle too much. We're not done here yet little man."

With that, his paddle-like carpenters hand came down again covering both smooth round cheeks and the room filled with repeated pistol cracks again.

It was agony. Shock, fear, dignity and shame were all washed away by the pain in my bottom. By now I was crying hard. Sobbing and crying out with the spanks. I don't know how many I got or how long it went on but when he finally stopped I was just a pile of sorry young man on his lap.

After that it was a few days before I had the courage to go back over. I got home before mom did, took off my shorts and looked at my bare bottom in the mirror. Wow was it red. I rubbed at it and a strange thing gave me an erection.

Mr. Walker said before he sent me home that I better not make him have to spank me again. As I lay on my stomach on the bed playing over the scene of that awful experience in my head, keenly aware of my scorched butt wiggling as I was humping to a climax, I made up my mind that Mr. Walker was going to become very familiar with my naughty bottom.

More to come.

xspankox xspankox
46-50, M
1 Response Jan 15, 2013

Yes it really happened. I spent a fair bit of time over his knee through the following years.