Party time for Jay

                      Author : Jay Bee JBates3327@aol.com

I had mixed feelings as I got ready to go to the party. In one way I was looking forward to it. I had finished my `A’ level exams last week so I had something to celebrate. Anyway I liked parties. But the reason for it wasn’t so good. It was Alec’s stag party. He was getting married next week. That meant he was leaving the senior scout troop of which I was a member. He wasn’t the only one. Dave and Simon, my best mates, were also leaving. They had finished school and were off round Europe for a couple of months. When they got back they were going to university. I’d see them now and again when they came home but it wouldn’t be the same.

I had a lazy bath and dried myself slowly. I admired my slim, smooth body in the bathroom mirror. At work for the Council I had to do gym classes twice a week, Mr Foster, my landlord, had me running round the park on Tuesdays and Fridays, I spent a fair amount of time canoeing on the river; all this exercise gave me a flat chest, well toned muscles and a trim, round bottom. I considered shaving but decided not to bother. I had had one last week and that would do. At eighteen and a bit I still only really needed to remove fluff every so often. Besides, I cut myself too much.

In my room I put on a pair of tight dark blue jeans. Mr Foster would ask if I had been poured into them. But they showed off my figure really well. I shrugged myself into my favourite shirt. It was white but with a pink pig on the pocket. It always got a few grins as I walked down the street. I combed my dark brown hair, brushed my teeth and put on my black pointed shoes. I was ready. I went downstairs to say goodbye.

"Mind you’re in by 11.00, Jay," Mr Foster said, after the usual indrawing of breath at my appearance.

"Have a nice time," Mrs Davies, his housekeeper added.

"Thank you miss, see you later, sir," I smiled as I went out of the front door.

I arrived at Alec’s about an hour early. That was because I was doing the cooking. I was making spiced meat tarts, baked potatoes with cheese and sausage and bacon rice. I would also do the usual French bread and cheeses and other stuff. I had prepared the meat and sausages at home so it should all be ready about an hour after the party started.

Alec had his own flat. When I rang the bell he asked who it was before he let me in. He opened the door, his six foot body looming over my mere five feet eight. I saw at once why he had been cautious. All he had on were his tight pants. He looked really good. The outline of his uncut cock was clearly visible. When he turned to go back to the bedroom his bottom showed neat and pert. I had seen it bare a few times. He was wasted on his girlfriend.

I went to the kitchen and started cooking. Alec came out, fully dressed now, and gave me a beer.

"You’ll be the senior senior scout now," he commented. "You know what that means. You are in charge of boy’s discipline when Mr Mackenzie’s away."

"I know," I sighed, "I’m not looking forward to it very much."

"It’s not that bad," Alec explained. "I only whacked five or six while I had the job. I just gave them enough to make them think twice about what they had done."

"Did they yell?"

"A couple did but you’ve got to carry on. The worst one I did was six with the strap. He started howling after the third. But he got what he deserved. When he tearfully pulled his shorts up over his scarlet bottom I admit feeling a bit sorry for him. On the other hand if he’d behaved himself it would never have happened."

"True. I just hope I don’t have to do it"

"Jay," he smiled, "You’re eighteen and a bit. Unless you leave you’ve got the job for another two years at least. You’re bound to see a few bare bottoms anxiously awaiting your punishment in that time. The only advice I can give you is to do it properly. You let yourself and the Group down if you don’t."

I grinned weakly and changed the subject. Summer camp 1963 was coming up. I realised I’d be very unlikely to get through it without having to spank one or two boys. It wasn’t something I was looking forward to.

An hour later the party was in full swing. I’d had a couple of beers and was feeling good. All my friends from the senior scouts were there. There were also some of Alec’s mates from work and boys he had known at school. One of them now worked for the Council like I did. We chatted about life in the Town Hall for a bit. Then I went back to the kitchen and finished doing the food. There were loud cheers as I brought out the first tray. By the time I got back with the second most of the first was gone.

Once my cooking duties were over I relaxed. I had another beer. The music was a bit too loud for my liking but otherwise I was enjoying the party. Then, at about 10.00 one of Alec’s mates turned the gramophone off. Alec was standing in the centre of the room. We all closed in around him. He looked at us nervously.

"Well, Alec," Simon leered at him, "Wedding bells next week eh? Lucky little Sue. Let’s see what she’s getting."

"Hey guys, cut it out," Alec tried hopelessly. He knew he was for it.

"Oh, no," another boy grinned, "You’re not getting out of it. Either you take them off or we do."

Alec protested in vain. We moved in. He held up his hands,

"Ok, ok, I’ll do it."

We drew back to give him room. He reluctantly started to undress. When he got down to his tight white pants he paused. We moved in again. With a sigh he pulled them down. His back was to me and I got a great view of that lovely bottom slowly emerging from them. There was a cheer as he kicked them off and stood naked in front of us. He had to turn round so we all got an eyeful.

"Right," one of his old school friends said, "Now bend over the arm of the settee."

"What are you going to do?" Alec asked worriedly.

"A lot more if you don’t do as you’re told," the boy replied.

We let him through to the settee. He looked round as if seeking a reprieve. None came. He slowly bent over the arm, raising his bare bottom high in the air.

"What some of you don’t know about Alec," the boy announced, "Is that for about a year at school he was always in trouble. He was constantly going to the office for six. His bum was rarely unmarked. We thought, in memory of that, we ought to mark it once more."

Alec stirred uneasily. I shuddered in sympathy. Surely they weren’t going to cane him? I wondered if I should try to stop it. It wasn’t right to do it at his party.

The boy was handed something. It was a bottle of red ink. We all laughed. Alec couldn’t see what was happening and tried to get up. Three boys pinned him down. An artist’s paint brush was produced. Six red lines in indelible ink were painted across his bottom. He wriggled and swore but he was just held more securely. He was kept down for a good five minutes to let the ink dry. We all gathered round admiring the artistry and making rude comments. Eventually he was let up. He was red faced and now red bummed as well. His hard cock jutted out in front of him. We all had a good look. He grabbed his clothes and fled to his bedroom, muttering threats of revenge.

He came out a few minutes later and joined in again. I had another beer. I remember the music switching to jazz. I’m sure I had a long chat with Dave and Simon about a canoeing competition. I may have had another beer. But after that things become a little hazy.

When I woke up the room was dark, although the street lights outside allowed me to see where I was. I was on Alec’s settee. Someone had taken my shoes off. I was covered with a blanket. My mouth felt dry and I was bursting to go to the loo. I blearily wandered into the bathroom. I had a pee and a long drink of water. Then I collapsed back on the sofa and was instantly asleep.

A car horn in the road outside brought me wide awake. Daylight filled the room. I groaned. My head hurt and my mouth felt as if I had swallowed a bowl of ashes. I sat upright and wished I hadn’t. I lay back down and closed my eyes. I was drifting off again when suddenly I shot back up. I gasped in horror. I had been told to be back home at 11.00 last night. It was now the following morning. I was in deep, deep trouble. I swung my legs on the floor and stared miserably at my feet. I felt sick. Mr Foster would kill me.

Alec came in. He was in his dressing gown.

"The kettle’s boiled," he grinned, "Go and get a coffee."

After I had drunk the coffee and had some dry bread I felt better. On the other hand I had had time to dwell on my fate. I was in for a really good spanking. I was so preoccupied with my doom that I hadn’t noticed Alec diffidently hanging around. He kept plucking at his dressing gown. He looked quite worried.

"Jay," he finally began, "We’re pretty good friends aren’t we?"

"Sure," I smiled, "Why what’s up?"

"Well, you know those lines they painted on my bottom last night?"

I nodded, grinning at the memory.

"I can’t get them off. I’ve managed some of it but I can’t get to all of it. You wouldn’t......."

"You want me to scrub your bum?" I laughed. Then I saw he was serious. "Really?"

"Really, but you mustn’t tell anyone."

"Ok," I agreed, before he could change his mind. This sounded brilliant. That lovely round bottom in my hands. It might take a bit of time to do a good job. I was so thrilled at the prospect I forgot all about Mr Foster.

We went into the bathroom. He took his dressing gown off. He was naked underneath. I sat on the edge of the bath. He came and bent over my knees. I could feel his soft cock on my thighs. To check what needed doing I had to run my hand over those lovely silky cheeks. Then I got a flannel, some soap and a pumice stone and got to work. It took a good quarter of an hour. Ink had got into the crack so I had to explore that thoroughly as well. Finally I finished. He sighed with relief. Before he could get up I fetched him a really good smack right across the centre. He yelped.

"What was that for?" he demanded angrily.

"Just getting in some practice," I smirked.

He got up, gave me a glare and stalked off to his room, his reddened bottom showing the clear imprint of my hand. I grinned at the mirror. This was something I wouldn’t forget in a hurry. Then I remembered my own likely fate. I’d better get home quickly.

"You off then?" Alec said as I came out of the bathroom.

"Yeah, you’re lucky. The marks I’ll get on my bum for staying over won’t wash away."

"It’s a hard life," he grinned as he opened the door for me. "Thanks for the cooking, and good luck."

"I’ll need it," I smiled weakly, "But thanks for the party, see you at the wedding if not before."

I got back to the house at about 8.30. I slipped round to the backdoor. Mrs Davies was in the kitchen making a pot of tea. There was no sign of Mr Foster. I tapped on the door. She looked up, scowled at me then came and let me in. I stepped into the house. A ringing smack got me round the ear.

"Where do you think you’ve been?" she demanded indignantly. "We’ve been worried sick. Mr Foster nearly called the police when you weren’t home at midnight."

"I’m sorry, miss," I said, rubbing my sore ear, "I fell asleep at Alec’s and didn’t wake up until this morning."

"Hah, too much beer most likely."

"Yes, miss."

"Well, he’s in the living room. You’d better go and make your peace with him. There’ll be a cup of tea in here for you afterwards."

"Yes, miss, thank you miss."

With a heavy heart I made my way to the living room. My ear throbbed from the smack. I gave it another rub. The living room door was ajar. I took a deep breath and went in. Mr Foster was in his armchair reading a Sunday paper. He looked up as I entered.

"Kind of you to grace us with your presence, Jay," he said sternly, "What time were you to be in last night?"

"11.00, sir." I muttered.

"It’s now the next morning, you’d better have a good explanation."

I told him about the party and having a few beers. I said I’d fallen asleep and didn’t wake up until a while ago. He wasn’t impressed.

"So, basically, you got drunk and passed out."

"I suppose so, sir."

"Well, I’m going to teach you a lesson about responsible drinking. After it, hopefully, you’ll learn to pace yourself. But if not we can always repeat the lesson until you do."

"Yes, sir," I sighed.

"Don’t you sigh like that at me," he snapped. "We were both worried about you. I stayed up until midnight and nearly rang the police. You could have been injured on the way home or anything. You said you’d be home at 11.00 and you weren’t. Well I’ll see you at 9.30 this evening and teach you to keep your word."

"But sir, that means I’ll have to wait for it all day," I exclaimed.

"Hmmm. You want to get it over and done with?"

"Yes, please sir."

"Oh, very well, come to the study at 12.30 and I’ll deal with you then."

"Yes, sir, thank you sir." I said gratefully. At least I wouldn’t have to wait so long for it.

After my tea I changed into old clothes and set about my chores. I washed the car then polished it to gleaming perfection. I got the mower out and did the front and back lawns. I weeded the garden path, sprayed the roses with insecticide and trimmed the edges of the flowerbeds. All the time though my mind kept returning to my 12.30 appointment. I knew I was for it. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t deserve it. I just hoped it wouldn’t be too bad.

Shortly after 12.00 I went back inside. I was beginning to shiver a little as my doom approached. I now wished I hadn’t suggested an earlier time. I washed myself thoroughly and cleaned my nails of dirt from the garden. Then I had a big decision to make. What should I wear? I though of going dressed in a suit and tie. That would show respect. On the other hand when I went at 9.30 it was just dressing gown and pyjamas. Somehow that didn’t seem right at midday. In the end I settled for a crisp white T shirt, dark blue shorts and dark long socks. Before getting changed into them I hesitated. What about pants? I nearly didn’t put them on. Then I thought it might look bad without them so hurriedly got into a clean pair. I dressed, combed my hair and checked to see that everything was neat. By now it was almost 12.30 so I scurried downstairs and stood outside the study door. As always the full force of what was about to happen gripped me. I was trembling with fear. I had to walk up and down in the hallway to bring it under control.

12.30 struck on the hall clock. This was it. I took a deep breath and knocked firmly on the door. He told me to come in. I grasped the door handle with a sweaty hand and fumbled it open. Nervously I stepped in and closed the door behind me. He beckoned me over to the desk. For a moment I thought my legs weren’t going to move but I got them going. I went and stood at the corner of the desk. He looked straight at me.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to."

"Jay you always say that. Largely I accept it. Your problem is that you just don’t think things through. All the times I’ve spanked you its rarely been for bad behaviour as such. It’s because you get carried away with what you’re doing and give no thought to the effect your actions will have. For example last night did you consider me or Mrs Davies when you started on your fourth beer?"

"No, sir."

"No, you were having a good time and forgot all about your promise to be home at 11.00, didn’t you?"

I stared at the floor. Put like that I’d been selfish. "Yes, sir. I’m sorry sir."

"Is there anything you want to say before I punish you?"

"Only I’m sorry sir."

There was a pause. I waited for him to reach down to the bottom drawer of his desk where the tawse was kept. But he didn’t. Instead he stood up. My fearful eyes tracked him as he went over to the sideboard. He opened the middle drawer. I started to tremble. This was where the canes were stored. He reached in and drew out the thin, whippy cane called Stinger. But, instead of closing the drawer, he reached in again. The heavy cane, `Whacker’, emerged. He brought them both back and laid them on the desk. Then he faced me.

"Right young man after this I hope you will remember your promises and keep them. Six of the best with Stinger."

I shuddered, I knew I’d never take that. "Yes, sir" I said mournfully.

"I also intend you reflect on this punishment for a while. Four with Whacker should keep it fresh in your memory for a few days."

Four with Whacker! It wasn’t so bad when it landed but boy did you feel it afterwards. I’d be bruised for the next week. But there was only one thing I could say.

"Yes, sir," I agreed, accepting my fate.

"Very well, go and stand in the middle of the room and face the window."

I did as I was told. It was a nice day out there. The study overlooked the park. Some kids were playing happily on the swings. I could hear them laughing. Yet they seemed far away. Time stood still.

"Take your shorts down."

I raised my hands to the waistband of my elasticated shorts. I pushed at them. They slipped over my bottom and fell to my knees. I gave them another push so that they dropped to my ankles. I straightened up, my hands automatically going to the hem of my pants.

"Yes, the pants too."

I pulled them down firmly. They dropped all the way to join the shorts puddled around my feet. My T shirt only just came down to my waist. I was effectively naked. I took one last look out of the window.

"Bend over and touch your toes."

I took a deep breath and bent forward. My fingers brushed my shorts. I moved my feet wider apart until they could go no further. I straightened my knees. My bare, quivering bottom was now ready for his punishment.

I heard him move behind me. He loomed up on my right side. I glanced round and saw Stinger rising up. I flinched and concentrated on the study carpet. There was a light tap of the cane on my bottom. Then I heard the whop as it was brought down hard, right on target. A line of fire ran across me, the pain radiating outwards. I gasped and shivered but managed not to yell. Almost before I had recovered the second one was on the way. It seared into me, above the first, making me jerk forward. Again I gasped and shivered.

The third was too much. It whopped down, getting me low, almost on my thighs. I howled with the pain. I lifted my hands up but hastily put them down again. I wriggled and writhed trying to ease the fire. There was a pause while I settled. Once more Stinger tapped me. It came back getting me dead centre right across both cheeks. I yelled and jerked forward, bouncing up and down on my toes. Tears began to form in my eyes, then spilled down my face. I wanted to beg for mercy but managed not to.

The fifth finished me. It got me in almost exactly the same spot. It felt like a red hot wire had been used. I couldn’t help it. I sprang up, howling my sorrow to the moon, and clasped my hands to my throbbing seat.

"Take you hands away and get down," he snapped.

"Please sir, please sir," I sobbed.

"Get down now or there’ll be more."

More!! The idea horrified me. I hastily bent over again and offered my burning bottom to the cane. It tapped me then came back with the best yet. It really, really hurt. Once more I jumped up howling and crying, begging for mercy. I wasn’t the eighteen year old senior, senior scout. I was a spanked little boy desperately hoping to avoid more.

He let me stand there while he went back to the desk. He put Stinger down. He paused, looked at me clinically, then picked up Whacker. He flexed it in both hands. Despite my tears I noticed that it was pretty inflexible. I trembled with fear, my tears flowing unchecked. He motioned me to get down again. Reluctantly I complied. I heard him approach. I straightened my knees and raised my poor, bare bottom up. Whacker knocked on it then lifted away.

It didn’t so much whop back but came with a heavier swoosh. Where Stinger landed with a crack this was more of a thud. The heavy blow hardly hurt at all; although it made me jerk forward. A line of numbness spread across me, then started to throb. The second was the same but lower down. However it landed on an area already set on fire by Stinger. I writhed and moaned with pain. The third was also aimed low. This time though it really hurt. Not the sharp agony of Stinger but a dull pain that made me cry out. The fourth got me dead centre, re-awakening earlier fires. Once more I howled and wriggled.

He let me stay down for a while. Where before my bottom had felt like it was on fire, now those fires were reinforced by a deep, throbbing ache. I knew I’d be sore for days. I managed to stop crying, although I longed to be allowed to stand. After what seemed an age he let me up. I turned to face him, my hands slowly beginning to rub away the pain.

"Do you think you have learned your lesson?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. Oh yes sir," I hastily replied. "Thank you sir."

"Very well, you can get dressed."

I pulled my pants and shorts up. Even that light material felt uncomfortable. I carried on rubbing gently at my throbbing backside. I didn’t dare press too hard.

"Alright, Jay?" he smiled.

"I think so, sir," I replied cautiously.

"Off you go then"

"Yes sir, thank you sir."

Once outside the study I raced to my room. I stripped my shorts and pants off, got a flannel of cold water and held it to my poor, battered bottom. It definitely eased the throbbing. All too soon it was lunch time. I went downstairs and sat carefully on the hard dining room chair. Even sitting down slowly I still couldn’t stop a gasp of pain. It was really uncomfortable, especially low down. Mr Foster pretended not to notice my discomfort but Mrs Davies gave me a sympathetic smile. That lunch was not a happy one.

For the next couple of days I had trouble sitting down. I slept on my side or my stomach. Even now, when I go to parties, I pause after a couple of drinks, the memory of that spanking reminding me to take it easy.

Jay Bee

May 31 1998