Date: Mon, 2 Aug 2004 02:23:54 -0700
From: Jon Hold <jonhold@earthlink.net>
Subject: Spanked For Christmas 1/1 Mt anal disipline spanking

This work is copyrighted by the author and may not be used without his
express permission. Private persons and no others are given permission to
have one (1) electronic and/or one (1) printed copy of this work. ASSGM and
Nifty are given permission to archive this work.

All the usual disclaimers that are usual apply here. This is a work of
fiction involving sex acts between consenting persons of various ages and
conditions of life. If you can't handle that or if you are not of the legal
age or mindset, go no further but remove this material from your possession
forthwith.

If you have faggot sensitivity, you ought not read this story.  I'd really
like to hear from some of you with either positive or negative comments. I
have no idea really if I'm bringing any of you pleasure or what it is you'd
like me to write about. I only hear from a few people on each story. I'd
really like to hear from YOU so I'll have some idea how I'm doing and what
it is you like to read. Thanks.

I used two returns between paragraphs to simplify formatting for you. This
is a hyphen -. This is an en-dash --. This is an em-dash ---. Other
high-ascii characters that PC's can't understand have been stripped.

I've been busy and haven't posted in a while, I really hope that all of you
enjoy this.

Try to keep in mind that while 42 is the meaning of life, it is not the
only possible solution and that sexual dimorphism is Mother Nature's excuse
for being kinky.  Jon


This story is dedicated to Y. Lee Coyote



Spanked for Christmas

by Jon Hold

jonhold@earthlink.net



I got an interesting present for Christmas this year. My sister-in-law is a
total bleeding-heart liberal and totally refused to let my brother
discipline their three boys with anything stronger than a "Time Out." Their
middle boy, Brad, was spending some vacation time in reform school because
of drug use and for being "incorrigible." The youngest, Todd, was well on
the way to outdoing Brad. Scott, the eldest, was a confused and angry young
man.

The boys had spent one summer with me years ago and had discovered that I
was NOT a bleeding-heart liberal. That, in fact, I was just as capable of
warming a boys bottom as I was of saying "Thank You." After their first
shock at my behavior, all three boys tested me to the limits of their
endurance and then settled down to having a wonderful time on my ranch. At
least it was a wonderful time until their mother found out that I'd spanked
the boys and took them home over their protests, my protests and their
fathers demands. I found myself charged with child abuse and Ray, my
brother was confronted with, "Do as I say or I'll divorce you and you'll
never see the boys again."

So, three days before Christmas, Scott shows up on my doorstep. I haven't
seen or heard from the boys or their mother since she took them away that
summer. Scott gave me a note from his father asking me to give Scott a home
until he and his wife could settle a divorce. He said that Scott was
eighteen and a college freshman and wanted to stay with me instead of stay
at home during the divorce. I asked Scott what the hell was going on and he
told me that his mother had finally gone too far and that his dad was
divorcing her. Todd was at home with their father, refusing to even talk to
his mother.

A phone call later I had discovered that I was parent-in-deed to an
18-year-old spoiled brat. He discovered right off that; no, he couldn't
have the big bedroom he and his brothers had shared; no, he couldn't use my
second car to drive to school, he could take the bus which stopped only two
blocks away; and that NO, he could NOT use my computer --- for anything!
That lead to some sullen behavior which was quickly abated with a swift
swat to the rear. Amazing how the increased blood circulation helped a boy
think!

Scott was elected by a vote of 1-0, mine being the only vote counted, to
help with the Christmas party at the County Orphanage. I dressed as Santa,
which was not difficult since I'm already fat and white-haired, and Scott
dressed as my little elfin helper, and looked cute as hell in his tight
little elf suit. Scott really got into the role-playing and actually seemed
to enjoy himself helping me pass out presents and talking to the kids.

When we got home I collapsed in front of the boob tube and just barely
managed to thank Scott for his help before he disappeared, to his room, I
thought. A while later I remembered a phone call I had to make and went to
my den to place the call. There sat Scott, using my computer.

"Scott! I thought I told you that you couldn't use my computer."

"But I need to get my e-mail, Uncle Jon!'

"Your wanting to get e-mail is no concern of mine, and not my
responsibility." I said, reaching forward and turning off the computer
right in the middle of Scott's download."

"YOU FUCK. YOU PROBABLY LOST MY MAIL!" Yelled the obviously irate boy.

Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I slowly counted to ten. "Scott. For
right now I'll pretend I didn't hear that. I want you to go upstairs and
take a shower. When you are clean and dry I want you to report to me in the
library next to my bedroom. Don't make me wait too long for you."

"Who do you think..."

"Scott. Try to not be any more stupid tonight than you absolutely have to
be." I stood up straight and stared down at the boy, "You make me the
slightest bit more angry and you're going to find yourself standing outside
in the middle of the street. Do you understand me?"

I stood and waited. The now sullen boy finally answered with a surly,
grudging "Yeah."

I went forward until we were nose-to-nose, slamming the flats of my hands
to the desktop on either side of the boy. "Yes, WHAT!?"

Suddenly intimidated, and much less sure of himself, Scott answered in an
almost respectful tone, "Yes, Sir."

"Good. I see your memory hasn't completely failed you. Ten minutes. The
library. Move it!"

Scott ducked under my arm and took off, leaving a lonely "Yes, Sir" hanging
in the air.

Less than ten minutes later, Scott joined me in the upstairs library.
Sounds fancy, doesn't it! Well, the truth be known, I earn my living doing
research. A well stocked library is a definite asset, and I've spent years
collecting my rather extensive collection of books. The library itself uses
up the interior space of the second floor of this big old farm house I've
restored. Windowless, carefully soundproofed and finished in oak, brass,
green leather and glass, it is my dream room and favorite place to work. I
have no close neighbors, but the soundproofing was about to get a workout
anyway.

Scott had a damp towel around his waist and his hair was still wet. Scott
had been a handsome boy the last time I'd seen him and he was now a very
good looking young man with a very athletic body. A body that was about to
get a real workout.

"Scott. I want you to understand that I do not hate you. But you will
understand that there are rules around here and that they will be observed.
You are a guest in my house. MY house! That's the crux of the matter, young
man. This is MY house, my computer, my everything. Until you earn the
privilege, nothing around here except your clothes and schoolbooks are
yours... and you WILL respect my things and my rules. Do you understand
me?"

"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Uncle Jon."

That came out as a nice, trite, pat phrase used to appease the powers that
be. It was about as sincere as a fish net full of farts. But, all things
can change. I had a feeling that Scott's apologies would become a lot more
sincere before the evening was over.

"Come here, Scott."

He took a couple of steps closer to me.

"Assume the position," I said, pointing to my lap.

He snickered. "I'm too old for that now, Uncle Jon."

I took his arm and pulled him down across my lap, his butt protruding in a
surprisingly beautiful curve under it's white terrycloth covering. "I don't
think so, Scott. And, unluckily for you, it's my opinion that counts.
Here's the rules. I'm going to spank you for breaking the rules. If you try
to cover your ass with your hand, you get five extra hard swats. If you
scream loud enough to hurt my ears, you get five extra hard swats. If you
cuss you get ten extra hard swats per cuss word." With that I started to
spank his ass. Not hard really, just warming him up for what was to come.

Scott started to struggle, trying to get away. "You can't do this! It's
against the law! I don't have to put up with your crap! I'm going home to
my Dad.!"

"That does it!" I pulled the towel off his ass and then jerked it out from
under his lap so that his naked groin was across my thigh. I threw the
towel to the floor and commenced really whacking the boy's bare ass with
the flat of my hand. He went pretty wild trying to get away, and then
trying to cover his ass. I grabbed his wrist and locked his arm behind his
back and continued really whacking his ass.

"That's fifteen extra hard swats for having an attitude."

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!...

"And five for saying 'crap'."

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

"And five for trying to cover your ass. Anything you want to add to that
right now, or should we get on with your regular spanking?"

"You can't do this." Scott sobbed.

Fifteen extra hard swats later, I very calmly said, "Attitude, Scott.
Attitude. You really need to learn how to control your attitude. This is my
house, Scott. I can do anything I want, including beating your ass black
and blue if that's what it takes to get you to listen. Are you able to
understand that?"

After a short, sullen silence, I gave Scott's ass a nice, stinging swat. "I
asked you a polite question, Scott. Please answer it equally politely."

"Yes, Sir. I understand, Sir!"

He was pushing it by overdoing it a bit, but I let it pass. "Good!"

For forty minutes I did a rather thorough job of spanking Scott's ass.
Openers had been pretty harsh, that wasn't my choice. I worked the boy's
ass over bare handed, methodically working both cheeks of his ass,
gradually warming him up and getting a nice rosy glow going all over his
butt. When I finally took a break, Scott was about at the ragged edge,
ready to loose control, which he had admirably kept, only letting out a few
moans and quiet cries went I went a bit to fast for him. He shuddered in
relief and fell limp across my lap when I stopped spanking him.

Quietly I flicked back the green felt cover on the side table and picked up
a hair brush. The back was about four inches square and the whole thing was
made of solid, well polished oak. Scott started to protest when he saw it,
but an arched eyebrow from me quickly silenced him. A half-dozen slow
spanks from the hairbrush seemed to wake Scott's ass from the numbness my
hand had induced and Scott was reacting very nicely, jumping and jiggling
his pretty butt and heavy thighs around, the masses of well toned muscle
were well heated by my spanking and his body tension and movement. Those
same masses jiggled and flowed in a most enticing way when Scott flung his
feet around and whined in pain. I slowed down a bit to help him regain
control, but kept the pace high enough to let him know that I expected more
from him now that I was using the hairbrush instead of my hand.

"Ooooooouch, Oh, Oh, Aggggh Oooooooch." The brush was really getting to
him. I was setting a slow somewhat interrupted pace, nothing even to help
him know when the next swat was likely to land. His hand was almost beyond
his control, moving up towards his ass with him just barely able to keep it
down and not grab his flaming ass. I stopped. Rubbing his ass for him
really felt good. As much for me as for him, I think. I started taking
swats, harder ones, in-between my rubbing his now tenderized asscheeks. One
especially hard swat was followed quickly by a second and Scott's hand came
partway up onto his ass. I decided to help him, he had done very well so
far, so I took his wrist and held his hand in the small of his back. I
couldn't rub his ass anymore so, what the hell, I really laid into
him. About six or eight really hard and fast swats and Scott was bowed
upwards at the head and feet, he was crying and moaning like a boy out of
control and completely shorn of the sin of pride.

I held Scott down across my lap and shushed him. Telling him that he was
doing well and that I was proud of him so far. I put the brush back on the
table and then, using both hands, I wantonly played with his delightfully
warmed up butt cheeks. Clutching them in both hands and periodically
slapping his butt with my bare hand. Scott was very accepting of my ass
play and I asked him bluntly if this is what he wanted, a man to play with
his ass, to use his ass and really work it over. Bashfully, Scott nodded in
agreement and very quietly and meekly said, "Yes, Sir."

For about twenty minutes I hand spanked Scott's ass and felt him up however
I wanted too, Scott laying there quietly, periodically moaning or almost
purring. I felt his balls and the base of his cock, which felt like an
extra bone down there. I noticed that he was pushing his ass up into my
hands and that his pretty little pucker was pursing and pulling at the
air. I teased his hole with my finger tip and then gave him a couple of
nifty little swats to the ass. I continued this game with him until I was
able to slip my finger right into him without resistance.

I put my finger into him and diddled him a bit, fingerfucking him and
feeling around inside his tight little boy hole. I notice him looking up
over his shoulder at what I was doing to his ass. "You like that, Boy?"

He blushed and nodded "Yes."

I swatted him, hard and then put my finger back into him and started
feeling around on is hard prostate gland. "You like that, Boy?"

"Oh... Yes, Sir!" He said just audibly.

"Feels good, doesn't it."

Scott put his head down and sighed, relaxed and gave me full access to his
hole. "Yes, Sir."

I fingerfucked the boy for a while and then asked him if he wanted me to
really work his ass over for him. Tears gathered in his eyes and he started
crying. But he nodded "Yes" and said, "Yes, Sir. Please work my ass over."

I told him to get up and sent him down to my basement "work room" and get
the black and red whip he'd find hanging on the wall there. I few minutes
later a very scared looking boy returned and fearfully handed me a two-foot
whip made of many strands of leather with a braided handle.

"Very Good, Boy." I helped Scott get down in a new position. My legs were
wide-spread and I put his belly across my thigh with the couch supporting
his body weight. I made him get his butt down until his lower legs were
vertical and his upper legs were horizontal and lined up along my leg in a
straight line. He looked like some Hindu sculpture with all his goodies
exposed to me and the leather whip.

I started working his ass over. The more I got into it, the more he urged
me on. Wanting me to use the heavy whip on his ass. I wasn't hitting hard,
but the whip itself was heavy and very effective. I used it on the boys ass
and back with the added spice of getting a few strands on his balls every
time I took a lick at the bottom part of his ass. He'd just groan louder
when that happened and never asked me not to hit his balls. I reached up
and felt up his ass, sticking a finger inside to test his temperature and
then reaching under him to feel his hanging balls and hard, leaking cock.
Renewing the lashing was a relief to both of us.

Scott started cumming against my leg and I held him while he was in throes
of his orgasm. I hand swatted his ass in time with his surges and then
stuck a pair of fingers up his ass which made him arc up at both ends and
really shoot some heavy shots of his clotted boy-cum. I held him and rubbed
his back until he had recovered and then had him lick all his cum off of my
thigh, the couch and the hardwood floor. When he was done I told him to go
into my bedroom, stack two pillows in the middle of my bed and lay across
them, butt up in the air and wait for me.

The now very polite boy simply said, "Yes, Sir," and turned to go. At the
door he stopped and twisted his head to look at me, giving me an excellent
view of his bright-red ass and half-hard cock... "Thank you, Uncle Jon. I'm
sorry I was such a bad boy."

"That's OK, Boy. You're trying to be a good boy now and that's all that
matters to me."

He smiled like I'd given him diamonds and ran off to my bedroom. I went
downstairs to e-mail his father and tell him how much progress we had made
and that maybe he should think about coming up earlier than we'd planed on,
and to be sure and bring Todd.