Spanking In Comicbookland - P1

Author: Sandy Writer8322@aol.com

Steven had been sent to his room by his Uncle Mike to think things over. That was generally what happened after a spanking, unless Uncle Mike put his nephew in the corner so that he, Uncle Mike, could supervise the ‘thinking.’

Steven lay on the bed, still crying, and holding on to his sore bottom. Uncle Mike had spanked him for not doing his chores. Uncle Mike could be stict, but he also loved to play and did things with the boy that his parents never did. Nevertheless, in between the play, the boy was expected to do certain jobs around the house and there were consequences when they weren’t done.

This latest event had been a conflict over doing the breakfast dishes. Mike had asked the boy to wash up while he went outside and got the garbage ready to take to the town dump. When Mike had come back in, the dishes were still on the table and Steven was watching cartoon.

“What happened?” Mike asked the boy.

“Oh, sorry, Uncle Mike. I forgot,” Steven said quickly.

Mike flicked off the t.v. (much to the boy’s annoyance) and stood in front of it. “Steven, I’m going to the dump. When I come back, I expect the dishes to be done and your bed to be made. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, Uncle Mike. I’ll do it.”

When Mike came back, he found Steven sprawled on the living room floor pouring over old comics that he had taken from his Uncle’s closet. Mike spotted some of his old childhood favorites: Superman, the Katzenjammer Kids, Popeye and some Disneys; the jobs Mike had assigned had still not been done. Mike had grabbed Steven by his arm and brought him upstairs to his (Mike’s bedroom). Once there, Mike had sat down on the bed with the boy in front of him.

“Now, you’ve earned yourself a spanking, Steven,” Mike said. “When I give you a job to do I expect you to do it.”

The boy had started crying immediately.

“Don’t turn on the waterworks yet, kid,” Mike said undoing the boy’s pants and pulling them down. “Wait’ll I give you something to cry about.”

Then Mike pulled down the boy’s underpants and laid him across his knees. He had spanked the boy’s bare bottom until he felt the job was properly done which meant that the boy was bawling, and his bottom was cherry red. Then he had lifted the boy off his lap, pulled up his underpants and pants and reminded him of why he had just been spanked.

“You know kiddo,” Uncle Mike said, putting his hand on his nephew’s head, put the boy in his room to “think things over.”

Steven’s parents were in the throws of a bitter divorce and Uncle Mike’splace had become a refuge for the boy and a way for the embattled adults to carry out their misery in private.

Mike loved his twelve year nephew dearly, but he hated his sister and brother-in-law’s parenting. Because they were self-indulgent adults, they had brought their son up to be manipulative and indirect. This was not the way things worked at Uncle Mike’s house. Uncle Mike gave the boy lots of hugs and always showed Steven when he approved of something. When he didn’t approve he made it clear and things changed.

Steven continued sniffling and crying as he thought about laying over Uncle Mike’s lap and how much Uncle Mike’s hand had hurt when it had smacked his bottom. The more he thought about it, the more the boy felt sorry for himself and the more he cried. The more he cried, the more drowsy he became and soon he had cried himself to sleep.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Vell, is you neffer gettink up loafer, or vat?”

Stephen was lying on a hammock strung between two palm trees. Ahead he saw what looked like a jungle, to his left, standing at the side of the hammock were two little boys. One had an unruly shock of blond hair and the other dark hair combed straight back. The boy with blond hair wore an old fashioned lace fauntleroy collar and black jacket and the dark-haired boy wore a black bowtie and a red sweater. They looked familiar.

“Vee is Hans und Fritz,” the dark-haired boy said, without making clear who is who.

“Ya, und you is our chum!”

“Git up chum, und lets make some chaos for der Captain.”

The boys pulled on the side of the hammock and Stephen fell out upon the ground.

“Hey,” he said, not sure whether or not to be angry.

The two boys clapped their arms around his shoulders and gave him a quick, hard hug.

“Don’t get the dandruff up,” said the blond, “ve luffs you like a brudder.”

“Ya, und know ve giffs vot for to der Captain, c’mon bro.”

Stephen knew who these boys were; their incredible garb and indescribable accents were dead giveaways. They were the Katzenjammer kids, but somehow, they were real and alive.

“You should tank us dat ve gut you out of dat dingblasted hammock,” said the blond.

“Yah,” said the other. “Dot’s der Captain’s favorite loaffing place. If he caught you lying dere he vut vale der tar aus from you!!”

“What?!” Stephen asked.

“He vould smack der daylights out from you!” the blond explained.

The boys lead Stephen around to the side of a white fenced in bungalow. In a small yard, the Captain and his croney the Inspector were hard at work. The Captain, in just his undershirt was mowing the lawn and the Inspector, still in his long, yellow frock coat was picking out weeds. Both men had short stubby cigars sticking out of the corner of their bearded mouths.

Hans and Fritz gestured to the open window of the bungalow. A fairly large woman, her dark hair pulled back in a bun, was rolling dough for pies. Two pies already cooled on the window sill. Every so often, she looked up from her dough and shot a look of intense scrutiny at the two men.

“Vot kind of a ting is dis, I esk you?” the Inspector moaned, as he tugged at a resistant weed. “Here is der veekend, und vee is hard at voik.”

“Stow it with der gab, shortie,” the Captain said, blowing out a cloud of dark smoke. “Der soon vee is finished, der sooner giffs vit der pies.”

Both men licked their lips. The aroma of the pies was intoxicating.

Hans and Fritz winked at each other and drew Stephen down behind the white picket fence that surrounded the yard. From ‘somewhere’, the blond pulled out a box labeled “QUICK GROW WEED SEED!”

“Dus you vant a plenty good laff?” the dark haired one said.

“Okay,” said Steven, starting to get the idea.

“Den ve vait a little und shprinkle!”

The boys took turns peeking through a knothole in the fence. Presently the Captain and the Inspector plunked down on the lawn and wiped perspiration from their faces.

“Whew,” said the Inspector. “Dot vas plenty hot voik.”

“Yah,” the Captain agreed. “Und your constant griping made it effen vois.”

“Nah, it vosen’t me mid der complaining,” the Inspector argued.

“Who else sounds like an old nanny goat,” the Captain snapped.

The boys poked Steven.

“Now, dunderhead,” the blond said, “vile der two valruses is arguing, comes time for der deed.”

“Yah,” said the dark haired one. “Grab a good hendful of der seeds.”

Stephen reached into the box and grabbed a handful.

“What now?” he asked.

“’Vut now,’ he sez,” the dark-haired one said laughing.

“Now, you trow der seeds over der fence. Qvick, vile de is still chewin’ on each udder’s beards.”

Stephen threw the seeds over the fence. The results were almost instantaneous. With a series of loud “Pop” “Pop” “Pop” sounds, a veritable forest of weeds sprang up from the ground to a height of nearly four feet.

The Captain and the Inspector shot to their feet and leaned back on their heels (gravity had nothing to do with it). The Captain’s cap and the Inspectors’ top hat shot off their heads, in the manner of all cartoon characters, and the two men twirled around on the heels of their shoes.

Steven burst into hysterical laughing and doubled over. Never, had he seenliving people do anythihng remotely like it. Hans and Fritz did likewise.

Hearing the sound of laughter, the Captain and the Inspector vauled over the fence and caught the boys by their collars.

“Aha!” the Captain said triumphantly. “Der hoodlumps!!”

“Who else could it be, und now,” the Inspector said, seeing Stephen in the Captain’s large-fisted grip, “der is tree of dem.”

“So vat!” the Captain said shrugging. “Ve haff four knees doesn’t it??!!”

The Inspector grinned. He put the blond boy over one knee, and the dark-haired boy over the other knee. The Captain, bending at the waist, tucked Stephen over both knees.

“Now ve giffs it a varm up vot don’t cool off fer at least two weeks!” the Captain said grinning.

Both men raised their palms over their heads.

“Vait,” the Inspector hollered. “Ve don’t vant to split der pretty Sunday pants.”

The Captain chortled around his cigar. “Good thinking, Shylock. I suggest ve take dem off.”

Now it was the boys’ turn to register shock and dismay. Their pants were quickly yanked off and their little round behinds lay vulnerably over the laps of the two angry men.

“Und now ve giffs it vot for,” the Captain said, and the spanking began.

The Captain spanked much harder than Uncle Mike, and Stephen was soon howling and kicking his feet.

“Yow! Ow! Stop! Waaaaah!” he bellowed.

“Safe it, chunior,” the Captain said, “I tink I vill make your little sit me down der exact color of der sunset!”

WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!

The Captain and the Inspector spanked away and the boys kicked and cried when suddenly a voice boomed out.

“Don’t worry, Stephen, I’ll save you!”

There was a flash of blue, red and yellow, and Stephen felt himself yanked off the Captain’s knees and swept upward into the air. He looked up and saw that he was being cradled in the arms of a familiar figure in tights and red cape. A lock of black, almost blue hair, curled over the figure’s forehead.

“SUPERMAN!” Steven said.

“Don’t worry, lad!” Superman said, smiling at the boy. “I’ve got you, and I’ll soon get you a pair of trousers.” Superman gently patted Steven’s sore, bare bottom with his fingertips and continued flying.

Steven looked ahead and saw a large city appear on the horizon.

“Is that Metropolis?” Steven asked.

Superman flashed more white teeth. He gave a gentle deep laugh, “It certainly is youngster. Good old Metropolis, U.S.A.”

(to be continued)