Date: Fri, 24 Aug 2001 23:40:17 -0400
From: LJB <readersstop@netscape.net>
Subject: When Danny Decided Section 1 (LJB)(Mb MB bb b^b spank)(1/4)

The following is a pure work of fiction and is the property of the author.
This is a story about the interaction of males with each other sometimes in
sexual situations.  It's a story with some sex, not sex with some story.

I am not acknowledging e-mails, instead using my time to write.
I do appreciate hearing from you.
Hope that you enjoy.       LJB

When Danny Decided

Chapter 1

I really have no memory of my Father.  I know what he looked like 'cause
I've seen the picture of him our Mom kept on her dressing table, but I do
not actually remember him as a person.  He didn't leave us until I was four
years old.  Ricky was six, and Danny would have been thirteen.  Danny never
talked about him.  If Father was mentioned, Danny would leave the room.
Whenever anyone talks about their "Dad" I always picture Danny, my brother.
He was always there to fill that role for me and Ricky.

I can't remember "Mom" before our Father left.  Danny said she changed
then.  The passive, withdrawn, uninvolved woman, who stayed periodically at
our house and sat on the living room couch smoking cigarettes all day and
drank just enough to keep herself numb, is who I remember.  Danny always
told us we needed to be quiet around Mom, because she was grieving.  I
didn't understand, but if Danny said it, we did it.  Each time she was
admitted to the psychiatric hospital she stayed away longer and longer.
When Danny was 17 she was admitted for the final time.  It was years later
before I found out Danny had stopped her that time when she tried to kill
herself.  By the time custody of Ricky and me came up, Danny was 18 and
having already looked after us for so long, the court had no problem
designating him as our legal guardian.

As long as I can remember, Danny looked after everything.  Mrs. Murphy, our
housekeeper, came in weekdays from 10:a.m. to 4:p.m. and did light
housework.  You know vacuumed, dusted and that sort of thing.  She left our
dinners ready for us before she went home.  We did chores around the house
and helped, but Danny saw that all the rest of our needs were looked after.
He cooked the other meals, did the laundry, took us to do the shopping and
made sure Ricky and I were clean, well mannered and to school every day.
He even looked after controlling the household money when Mom started
buying too much liquor and not enough food.  Mom didn't argue.  Danny told
her it would be that way from then on and she just nodded her head.

Danny guided our household and our lives.  I never remember it as being
otherwise.  He very rarely raised his voice to us about anything.  Once
Danny had told us something, that was the end of it.  It didn't matter
whether he said we were to have a bath, go to bed early, eat our
vegetables, or spend part of Saturday helping to clean out the garage, once
said, that was the end of it.  It would not occur to either Ricky or David
or myself to consider it being any other way.  Mom was the same way when
she was at home.  Danny told her the things he considered necessary and
went ahead with what he had decided.

David was my best buddy.  I guess we played together even before we started
to go to school.  As it worked out, we ended up in the same class every
year and almost always managed to sit next to each other. David was an only
child, but he was really like our fourth brother.  He spent far more time
at our house than at his own.  This worked out fine with his mother as she
was single and worked long hours as a waitress at the late night diner.
There was an extra twin bed in my room and it was always referred to as
"David's bed".  He and I spoke of the bedroom as "our" room.  David just
simply belonged with us.

As a member of our family, David was subject to the same rules and
supervision as the rest of us.  He had his homework overseen, was expected
to perform at school, eat his vegetables and was tucked in at night, the
same as me.  On the rare occasions David got into trouble, at home or
school or in the community, Danny would consult with his mother about what
to do with him.

The response was always the same, "You know him even better than I do.  Do
whatever you feel is best."  and he did.

You may have wondered how a family with one Mom and three, plus one
siblings managed financially when Father makes an exit.  Actually, better
than when he was there.  The answer in this case was `INHERITANCE'.  Mom's
parents were older and rich.  I'm talking big bucks here.  They never liked
our dear Father and left all their money in a trust for Danny (they also
didn't think Mom was stable enough to handle things - pretty smart people
actually).  Danny was the only child in those days, so the trust was
totally in his name and they had protected it well.  Father could not get
his hands on any of it and he did certainly try.  This may be part of the
reason for his final departure.  When Father left, Danny and Mom arranged
with the trustee to cover expenses for the household and provide Danny with
a pretty liberal monthly allowance.  Bills for food, taxes, clothing,
maintenance, etc. went to the trustee.  Allowances for us, including David,
extra treats and outings, Mom's booze and cigs came through Danny.  I must
say honestly the entire time I grew up I never once heard Danny refer to
money as anything other than "our" or "household" cash.  We managed to live
on less than the annual interest from the trust, without ever touching the
principle.  That included buying Danny's cars, which were passed down to us
eventually and being sure each of us could go to college.  We were
comfortable and our home was secure, due to the care and management of our
big brother and the foresight of our deceased grandparents.  When Danny
turned eighteen he became the sole executor of the trust, but chose to
leave things as they were until I reached the age of 21.  Even after that
time you can be assured our Mom was never in need of anything.

Danny was always big for his age.  By the time he started driving, at age
sixteen, he looked like a full grown man.  He was over 6' and weighed 185
lbs.  He was a bundle of muscles with massive shoulders and arms, a trim
waist and hips and sturdy, muscle packed legs.  The coach at the high
school was always asking him to play on the various sports teams because of
his size and power, but he didn't have time with looking after us and
working whenever he could.  He stayed in shape by carrying out a regular
weight routine in the little gym he set up in a corner of our basement.
Danny had dark brown hair, deep brown eyes, a tanned complexion and was
very handsome. His thick, flat pecs had a dusting of dark hair scattered
across them which accumulated and narrowed to a dark 1/2" line of hair
running down to his navel and then proceeded down at the same width into a
luxurious bush across his pubic mound.  His penis extended as a soft 5"
circumcised log which draped over a low hanging hairless bag holding two
robin egg sized testicles.  His butt was lightly dusted with short dark
hairs and the crack showed a line of longer strands clustered in it when he
bent over.  It was solid and compact.  His massive legs were well covered
with short dark hair.  In my mind, he was ideal.  The perfect example for
this boy of what growing to manhood would mean.

Don't think Danny was just another pretty face and body.  He was smart too.
He always was at the top of his class all through school, and received many
academic awards.  When he completed high school he was eligible for several
full scholarships and bursaries.  He ended up taking one from the local
college so he could remain at home with us.

During the entire time I grew up, I was always certain of one absolute.
Danny loved me.  In spite of all his responsibilities, he was never too
busy to be there for me, or my brother, Ricky.  He was always ready to help
us with our homework, guide us in our projects and activities, cheer us on
at our sporting events, pick us up when we fell down or just sit and talk
to us about anything.  We received our sex education, at home, from our
brother.  Our religious training was at a local church and it was brother
Danny who took us to church every Sunday.  I could go to Danny and talk
about anything.  I was tucked in and got a kiss on my cheek or forehead
every night and a hug whenever I wanted or needed it.  Our achievements
were praised and our failures were supported.  He always managed to set an
ideal example for us to follow and he always made us feel we came first for
him.

Danny provided sex education as an ongoing discourse.  You should
understand this was not a one dimensional presentation on his part
`teaching' us about sex.  This was him insuring each of us, on a continuing
basis, had full, detailed, accurate information by the time in our lives we
needed it, through open, free discussions.  At appropriate times in our
lives, we learned about not just the act, but all aspects of sexuality.
This included physiology and functions - male and female (with proper
names), psychology, sociology, as well as the emotional aspects.  We knew
what Sadism, Cunnlingus, Fellatio, Menstrual Cycles, Birth Control,
Masturbation, AIDS, Sodomy, Homosexuality, Safe Sex and Heterosexuality
were and what many of the different sexual cultures entailed.  But I think,
most important, we learned about caring and love.  David and I were always
amazed at how little and how wrong the information our classmates of any
given year had about sexual matters.  The guys we hung with would
eventually end up asking us their questions about the things they heard or
didn't understand.  Danny always stressed sex was not worth the effort if
you were not willing and prepared to understand and fulfill your partner's
needs.  He always said the very best sex was with someone you loved, but
the least you should share was care about the person you were with.
Without caring, it was just a physical act, like eating, playing or going
to the bathroom.  Ideally, sex was to involve more of the brain than the
body.

When I was 13, Danny was 22.  He was the finest example of male sexuality
you could hope to find (I am really not being bias).  He was handsome,
generous, witty, confident, out going, friendly - are you getting the
picture?

This is a man that on seeing him you thought to yourself, "Now that's what
a man should be.".  I'm telling you he `cleaned up real nice'. He dated
occasionally, usually ladies with whom he had gone to school.  Some of
these ladies would get invited to dinner at our house once or twice, but
there was never any romance brewing that seemed to be going anywhere, or no
one person in particular.  I always felt maybe he never had enough time to
develop relationships with us to look after and all the things he did.  I
worried about it.  His appeal was not limited to the visual.  His persona
exuded an aura which drew others to him.  Both men and women would come and
introduce themselves to him and then be happy to just stand within the area
of his influence to be with him.

In spite of all the positive elements Ricky and I had in our lives provided
by our brother, we still managed to get ourselves into some of the usual
troubles boys have growing up.  These few occasions required discipline
from the home and this too was provided by Danny.  The first time I recall
being in serious trouble I was about ten years old.  A couple of my friends
were going to the movies.  I wanted to go, so I helped myself to some of
the household money which Danny kept in a drawer in his room.  I knew if I
asked I would not be allowed to go, as we had just gone to the show a
couple days before.  At the dinner table, two days later, I was asked about
the missing money and I denied any knowledge.  I should have known when
Danny asked, he already would know the truth.

As soon as "I don't know."  was out of my mouth, I saw a flash in Danny's
eyes and a hardness I had never seen before replaced the usual sparkle.

"You will go up to your bedroom, put on your pajamas, brush your teeth, go
to the bathroom and stand in the corner by your closet door."  Danny's
voice was not loud, but cut through me like a knife.  His eyes held mine
captive.  "Stay there until I come up to see you."  "Now, go."

I'm sure my feet were moving before they even reached the floor.  Knowing I
had crossed the line, I did exactly as I had been told.  I undressed, put
on my pajamas and tended to my nightly ablutions.  Standing in the corner
in my bedroom, I realized I was trembling.  I was not afraid of Danny, I
was secure in my knowledge he loved me.  He was my protector.  But, I had
taken the family's money from his room and I had also done the worst
possible of all offenses.  Although it had never been said out loud, there
had always been an understanding among us brothers that you never, ever
lied to Danny.  How could I expect he would ever trust me again?  How could
I ever talk with him about the things which were important to me and expect
he would care?  How could he continue to love me?

Ricky and I had gotten in trouble before and had been given punishments
such as standing in the corner, push-ups, jumping jacks, loss of
television, grounding and staying in our room.  I tried to figure out what
something as serious as my offense would warrant, but I was at a loss.  A
sob found its way from my chest to my mouth.  I was so upset with myself I
could not grasp what had motivated me to betray my family and especially
Danny is this manner.  I heard the door to my room open and as it closed
another sob shook my body.

"Come over here."  My body jerked, startled as Danny's voice broke the
silence.  I turned to see Danny sitting on the chair by my desk.  I went
over to him.  "I'm hoping you have spent some time thinking this over."
Danny stated.  "I hope you have realized taking things that do not belong
to you, which you do not deserve is not an action other people will
tolerate.  For doing that you will spend the next three Saturdays doing
yard work, cleaning the garage and basement and any other extra chores I
can find for you."  I nodded my head.

"I am really sorry, Danny.  I don't know why I gave into doing it."  I
said.  My voice caught and cracked as I said it, and I felt a tear roll
down my cheek.

"I believe you are feeling sorry for your action and I am sure you will
apologized to both Mom (who happened to be home at this time) and Ricky."
he continued.

"I apologize to you too, Danny and I really mean it."  I sobbed.  "I am
really sorry I lied to you about it."

"I appreciate you are willing to acknowledge what you did and I have to
tell you it hurt me more than anything else you might have done."  said
Danny.  "But an apology will not resolve this problem.  I have to make
certain you remember a lie to me is a totally unacceptable way of trying to
deal with anything.  I'm sorry, but for the lie you are going to be
spanked."

Spanked!  I could not believe my ears.  Danny had never raised his hand to
me, ever.  There were never threats of physical violence of any kind in our
house.  It is the last thing that would have ever occurred to me.  Maybe he
had not thought about grounding me, or taking away my television
privileges.  Before I had time to think this out fully, or even suggest
there might be a different way of dealing with this, Danny had pulled me
between his knees, reached into the rear of my pajama bottoms, pushed the
elastic waist below my hips so they fell to the floor and bent me over his
left knee, catching the calves of my legs under his right thigh.
Everything seemed in my mind to be moving in slow motion and yet I had no
time to react or to speak.  Danny's left arm was positioned across my
shoulder blades holding me slightly bent down, his left hand ran down the
outside of my right arm and held it solidly just above the elbow.  I
realized, without even attempting to struggle, I was secured and would not
be able to move from the vise-like security of my brother's grip.  Turning
my head to the left to speak to him about other ways of dealing with this
situation, my eye caught the motion of his right hand which had been raised
and suspended over my taut and fully exposed buttocks.

As I opened my mouth to speak, this very large, nineteen year old hand
descended with blinding speed and landed squarely covering my right rear
cheek.  The sensation was as if I had been burned.  A searing pain flashed
in my flank and the statement of reason which I had intended to speak came
out as a screeching sound as I cried forth in pain and humiliation.  Tears
instantly flooded my eyes.  Before the yell from the first smack had
vacated my throat, a second searing burn erupted on my left cheek as his
hand completed its first cycle.  A second screech barreled from my lungs
through my throat and my mind was now totally occupied with the pain
burning at my backside.  The third slap was a matter of pain upon pain as
it landed back on the right side of my butt and was almost instantly
repeated by the fourth landing over on the left.  That was it.  The
spanking ended even faster than it had begun.  It occurred to me some years
later that effect (or for that matter affect) is not necessarily enhanced
by excess.  Danny's strong arms lifted me upright and I was again standing
between his legs.  He pulled up my pajama bottoms and turned me so I was
facing him.

The burning pain on the surface of my butt was residual and my screams of
acute distress had turned into tearful sobs reflecting more the damage to
my ego than to my body.  I found myself looking into Danny's eyes as he
spoke.  The hardness in his eyes and voice had left and the sparkle had
returned.

"I am most sorry you of all people, placed me in the position of having to
discipline you like this."  With those words he wrapped his arms around me
and held me tight to him until my sobs eased and my tears ceased.

I kept muttering, "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry."  to him.  He then picked
me up, carried me to my bed and after tucking me in and kissing my
forehead, said goodnight and left my room.  Waking during the night, I made
my way to Danny's room and crawled into his bed.  This woke him and he
pulled my body in close to him with his arms wrapped around me and we slept
the rest of the night like that.  The feelings of isolation left me and I
knew again I was loved and safe.

Ricky being a couple years older was not a couple years smarter.  Within a
few months he had placed his ass in jeopardy too.  He thought (no that is
not the right word because he definitely did not think) telling Mom a lie
was not on a par with telling one to Danny.  While Danny was at work, one
Friday night, Ricky asked Mom, who was still home at the time, to tell
Danny he was spending the night at his friend's house and implied to her it
had already been approved.  Ricky was 12, almost 13 at the time and had
been given quite a bit of freedom.  Danny happened to call home before he
left work and questioned Mom about the overnight arrangement.  He called
the friend's house and found they were not there and the friend had told
his parents he was staying at someone else's house.  Danny tracked them
down and with two other fathers who had been mislead, went and collected
their boys from an unsupervised, all-night, drinking party.  Ricky ended up
not allowed out at night for six months and he told me he had received four
solid wacks on each side.  Sometimes it does not pay to be older without
being smarter.