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Blistered Bottoms In Brisbee Creek: The Night Before
Folks used to say, "Brisbee Creek, population: … well, let's just say that there's likely more fleas clinging to the back of some hound-dogs than folks populating our fine little tree lined streets!"
Aren't exaggerated homespun clichés fun? Brisbee Creek was indeed small, but not as small as that. The fact remains that nothing much very exciting ever happens in towns like Brisbee Creek, so when the sickening sounds of metal colliding with metal and then with wood rudely interrupts an otherwise warm early summer-time evening, you take notice …
Morris Pepperidge looked up from his small periodical and slipped his reading glasses off. Startled wife Wilma looked up from her knitting,
"What in 'tarnation was that sound, Morris?"
"Can't rightly say Wilma," and ol' Morris set down the Reader's Digest magazine and prepared to push himself and his still sore three-month old replaced right hip up from his end of their old re-upholstered Barcalounger.
It took a little effort aided by a few grunts and winces, but Morris slowly made his way to the home's front screen door and took a look out towards their portion of Walnut Street. His right hand quickly flew up to his bleached beard stubble,
"Better call the 'amblance Wilma, looks like I'm not the only one's been banged up. There's just been an accident right up against our ol' fella out front!"
Wilma may have not been too happy with the way her ol' fella had disregarded the surgeon's admonishment to get some physical therapy to aid his surgery recovery, but she loved the tough old bird and besides; after fifty-three years of marriage, she knew better than to question his judgment on the matter of the peculiar sounds from outdoors. The phone was just off her left hand on the small lamp table and she picked up the receiver and dialed.
* * * * * * * * * *
Andy Roberts sat in the car's driver seat momentarily stunned by the vehicle's collision with the huge oak tree. Then he looked to his right. Jim looked equally as befuddled beside him and in the back seat, Chuck blinked, "What the hell happened?!"
Then Andy wisely looked around, wincing when he saw a familiar vintage 1960 Nash Rambler stopped in the middle of the street at an odd angle. The elderly driver was also familiar, Beulah Oliver. She was looking around herself having just realized that her car had been side-swiped by another car.
"Oh god!" Andy groaned, his stomach tightening up as he got out of his car and after having to stand a moment to let the cob-webs clear, made his way over to the Rambler, "Are you all right Mrs. Oliver!?"
She looked at Andy, "Andy? Andy Roberts? Did you run into me?"
Andy's face fell, "Yes mam, I'm so sorry!"
"Yes, well, we all make mistakes I suppose. Say, I smell alcohol, have you been drinking?" the eighty-three year old suspiciously pursed her lips.
And so it began. Andy Roberts, Chuck Hill and Jim Powell had decided that the trio deserved a night of post-high school graduation reverie. The beer "borrowed" from Jim's dad's garage had slid down three eighteen year old throats all too easily earlier that night and the three ethanol neophytes kind of lost track of responsibility.
Small town folks love to gather 'round to watch the spectacle of bright twirling red and blue lights on top of the Sheriff's cruiser and since Walnut Street had not seen both an ambulance and the Sheriff's car in action for years, the sidewalks around Wilma's and Morris' place were fairly teeming with gawking onlookers of all ages.
The adult onlookers talked excitedly among themselves already conjecturing on fault, costs of damage repair and especially Mrs. Oliver's condition, whereas the boys gawked at Andy, Jim and Chuck. It took little or no imagination for any of them to know what their dads would do to their bare bottoms should any of them ever wreck one of the family's cars.
Andy was not enamored with twirling colored lights and he hated the stares, especially from his very familiar peers. He never hesitated though; he had quickly confessed his drunken driving mishap to Sheriff Charlie Bates. Then, while Deputy Rich Oliver documented vehicle damage and the paramedic any injury concerns, Charlie was on his cruiser's two-way and instructed Charlene back at headquarters to start calling Andy's, Jim's and Chuck's parents to let them know what had happened and that their sons were OK. They were all to meet over at Andy's house in a short while.
Knowing that Mrs. Oliver was going to be fine helped easy the worry for the three boys for a few seconds of time, but then it was time to worry about their own consequences. Andy had a potential alcohol related driving conviction to consider and all three of them were contemplating groundings, lectures and three sure fire butt whippings. Underage drinking would not being going over very well with any of their strict Brisbee Creek parents.
* * * * * * * * * *
Paul Roberts had nearly nodded off to sleep in his front room easy chair that late evening. "One out the door to college, the other well on his way!" had been Paul's ear to ear grinning proud-papa mantra during elder son Andy's high school graduation ceremony less than a full week before.
Years and years of faithful attendance to both PTA (Parent Teacher Association) meetings and enumerable junior and senior high school sports practices and games had finally paid off. Paul was eagerly looking forward and proud to have Andy along with his fourteen year old little brother, Mark, at his sides for that year's Father-Son Summer Barbecue. The gathering was just the next day in fact!
It was the alarmed look on wife Laura's face as she talked to Charlene after having answered the telephone that was Paul's first clue that there would be no nap and little sleep the rest of that night. Well before the Sheriff's car filled with three sheepish boys pulled up to the curb, the Roberts' phone kept on ringing. Besides the Hills and Powells, many other Brisbee Creek community parents called in to share both in relief that nobody was seriously hurt, but also in parental concern over the nature of the offence including their own sons' perceptions.
Andy's little brother, Mark, happened to be hosting a sleep-over with Jim's and Chuck's also fourteen year old little brothers, Chad and Tommy respectfully. They were too busy at first playing video games in Mark's bedroom to notice the phone ringing off the hook, much less uninterested. But since Mark's bedroom window faced the front of the house, it also became increasingly difficult to ignore the sounds of multiple car doors slamming shut.
Mark looked out the window. It was like friends and relatives arriving for Thanksgiving or Christmas. His eyes got big. He shot from the bedroom, down the hall and into the front room, his buddies following, "Mom! Dad! What's going on?" Mark asked in a worried tone.
Paul informed the three younger boys of what had happened and then they all rushed outside into the busy darkness as the Hills, Powells and even the boys' junior and high school sports coaches were gathering together on the Roberts' front lawn. Jim's and Chuck's mothers rushed to their sons to make sure they were OK as Charlene had promised. Laura Roberts did the same, making Andy look her in the eyes and then gave him a short hug and peck on the cheek, unsuccessfully fighting back a few motherly tears.
Andy had never felt such painful chagrin just facing his Mom, but then Laura stood aside and everyone silenced as elder son now faced father. Andy slowly slid his hands into his back pockets and his head fell. There is simply no way to look your trusting dad in the eye after something like this.
Paul Roberts had been very far from perfect growing up. He had kept Grandpa Roberts quite busy at times attending to Paul's sometimes weekly need for belt or switch. He knew what it was like to screw-up and have to face the ol' man. He sighed, walked up to Andy and wrapped his arms around his son, whispering in his ear, "It's gonna be OK. Are you hurt son?"
It really is OK in Brisbee Creek to be seen hugged by your dad in front of your peers, but it might not be so OK to be eighteen and heard uttering even a small blubber in front of them. Andy bit his lower lip quite hard to help keep it together,
"Yes daddy, I'm OK. I'm so sorry, I screwed up bad," Andy quietly said eye to eye to his dad.
Paul sighed, "Yes you have, so let's just deal with it, come on," and put his arm around Andy and led the way into the house and very quickly the Roberts' front room was filled with all involved parents, two school coaches as well as Charlie Bates and his Deputy.
Rapidly whispered consultations between the Sheriff and the dads resulted in a need for more phone calls and clarifications that were best outside of the hearing of the boys. Mark and the little brothers were sent to Mark's room, the older boys to Andy's room all to wait until called for.
Mark's room was silently unhappy at first. There was much face to be lost if knowledge of this thing about their big brothers got out into their peer group.
"Maybe nobody will find out!" Tommy said hopefully, knowing he was not likely going to get his wish. Meanwhile, there was plenty to be moaned about in Andy's room:
"I was the driver, I should take the blame, all of it. No use all three of us going down on this one," Andy said, his voice cracking and trembling as he sat on his butt on the bedroom floor, hands over his face, feeling his eyes getting a little wet.
"Fuck you Andy! That won't do for me at ALL! We're in this together, right Jimbo?" Chuck said, his voice cracking as well.
"God damn right! And it's gonna hurt, believe you me, my Dad warned me, if I ever … oh god, it's gonna hurt!" Jim said, shaking his head back and forth, mumbling "it's gonna hurt" several more times.
"We'll be lucky just to get our butts roasted to a crisp for a month of Sundays. What about the father-son barbecue tomorrow?" Chuck wondered aloud, nobody really enjoying the humor of the unintended double entendre.
Quite a bit of slow-moving time then passed until two bedroom doors were finally opened, Mark's first. Then Andy's father poked his head into theirs,
"Come on out boys, please," is all Paul Roberts said.
Andy looked at his father's face for any sign of what his fate was going to be. Dad didn't look angry or irritated this time, like when Andy had goofed up in some simple way in the past and would end up over dad's knee for a simple spanking or in later years, over his bed pillow for a good hard belt whipping. No, Dad looked tired and even worried. Andy felt a cold chill, something very difficult was about to happen!
* * * * * * * * * *
Abe Palmer had not had the best day with father Dave; his argumentative nature had nearly netted the sixteen year old a good fashioned spanking over dad's knee, something little brother Jared would not have minded witnessing. Dad's subsequent early evening bedtime command affected both sons equally, something that didn't please Jared very much, the pajama-bottom clad brothers verbally squaring off as they lay in their beds across from each other a short time later.
Dave Palmer had finally settled down in his easy chair that evening when the phone rang. Dave got up and furrowed his brow,
"Who the hell could it be calling here at this late hour?"
The phone ringing could be heard in Abe's and Jared's bedroom and certainly caught Abe's insatiable curiosity. Jared watched in frustration as Abe snuck out of the bedroom and down the hallway, leaving a very unhappy Jared behind.
Mrs. Palmer was already retiring to the bedroom just as Dave was answering the phone with the initial news of Andy Roberts' alcohol involved incident, courtesy a nosy neighbor lady. Dave didn't trust the news at first, so he called good friend Paul Roberts. Then his mouth gaped with incredulity at what Paul had to explain about the accident, son Andy had such a high reputation among both peers and fathers.
Dave's instant verbal empathy with Paul was then unwisely interrupted by a loud thump. He turned just as a red faced Abe was looking up at him from the hallway doorway floor having been pushed down from behind by Jared's stealthy rear-ward attack.
"You get back in bed right now young man!" Dave yelled at his chagrinned older son. Abe retreated to his bedroom, glaring at his fourteen year old brother who grinned back with satisfaction, harshly whispering, "You're gonna get a whipping!"
"Shut up dickwad!" Abe yelped back as he flew to his bed suspecting Jared was probably right.
Sure enough, after Dave Palmer's longish phone conferencing with Paul Roberts, he pursed his lips, pulled his belt out from his jeans loops and made his way down to his sons' bedroom …
Oh, the joys of small town living: nosy neighbors, rumors and rumors of rumors, elderly men pronouncing "in my day!" not to mention the communal mentality of dad/son discipline. If you screwed up while under another father's watchful eye, you'd be spanked by him, just the same as by your own dad. Not only that, when youthful wrong-doing was private, it was dealt with privately; but when something like Andy's mistake came to public scrutiny; a public display of redress was unavoidable.
It was painful to all three older boys to walk into the front room, face their parents and their little brothers, much less two disappointed school sports coaches who showed up concerned about their former students' well-being. Andy bravely stood before the adults in a state of sheepish humility, his personal legal record in jeopardy of a black mark against his good name. Jim and Chuck stood at his sides to share in his shame with their own alcohol "offences" to deal with.
Despite all of the downsides, there was a choice with a good upside for Andy that Charlie was happy to announce,
"Andy, I just finished talking with district attorney Stevenson and Judge Walker. You've got a choice son, they will not press charges against you this time if you're willing to pay an informal, but very steep price."
The price was to be extraordinary, but would satisfy the triple needs of the community, its legal caretakers and the need to influence its young male members that breaking the law can only result in severe pain and humiliation. In exchange for a clean driving and legal record, Andy would have to present himself naked in the middle of the high school gymnasium the next morning before any boy or man in Brisbee Creek who wished to be there.
He would lay himself over the gym's vaulting horse and then take a triple punishment: twenty paddle swats from junior high school coach Jack Martin, twenty licks from high school coach Roger Haney's razor strop and then a final thirty cuts of Sheriff Charlie Bates' hickory switch.
"It's your choice Andy, your record or your behind," the Sheriff explained.
"But it's not going to stop what you have coming to you from me tonight, son, "Andy's dad quickly added, but needlessly so.
Jim Powell had already confessed his role in this disaster, supplier of the forbidden drink from dad's garage. He knew his butt was already in for a good whipping that night, but he couldn't let Andy stand alone,
"It's up to you Andy, but I'll take that gym whipping with you if you choose to do it," and put his hand up on Andy's shoulder.
Chuck was right on the other side. His daddy was going to blister his bottom good already, but he didn't let that fact deter,
"Me too Andy, you choose buddy."
There was one person left out of the discussion so far. Andy looked over at Mark who visibly looked up to his elbows with the now clear and real loss of face and respect among his own young teen peers, but especially one in particular. Mark was constantly bragging about Andy's high school sports and academic prowess to his same-aged rivals, which irked Jared Palmer something fierce.
Instead of just keeping his mouth shut, Jared had unwisely tried to talk up Abe's less than spectacular sports and academic achievements and Mark had just laughed in his face in front of a lot of guys who sided with Mark.
"So, what do you think little bro?" and suddenly all eyes were on Mark. For once, Mark looked a little shocked. Andy never asked his opinion about anything. He looked at Chad and Tommy. They were just as surprised and even looked a little jealous.
"Oh well, Andy big bro, you know me. I don't want my friends looking at you naked in the gym, but it's your hide and your record bro, I'll support you whatever you decide Andy! " and faked a big ear to ear grin to appease all the adults present.
Andy mumbled something under his breath about "wiseass," but openly sighed, his mind already made up,
"I have to think about my future. Jim, Chuck, sorry but it has to be a gym whipping."
The fates of the three boys decided for the next day, all non-family adults left the Roberts' home leaving three dads with decisions about father-son punishments. All six boys were sent to the Roberts' family room to wait while the dads conferred.
Upon reaching the bedroom door, Dave Palmer didn't bother to knock, simply opened it up and shouted, "Abe!"
Abe flew out of bed, "Dad!" his hands immediately covering his ass, Jared biting his lower lip trying not to look too gleeful as both boys stared at the familiar doubled up brown leather in their dad's fist.
"When I tell you to go to bed, I mean it son!" Dave scolded, brandishing the belt for emphasis.
"I was just worried! We never get phone calls this late at night!" Abe squeaked in a most unflattering way, but knew he was in for it.
"And if it was anything that you needed to know about, I would tell you! Now get your bare ass over my knee!" Dave instructed as he sat down at his son's bedside.
"Ahhh, come on dad," Abe weakly groaned but knew it was hopeless. He shuffled over to his dad's side and proceeded to push down his PJ bottoms with his briefs to his ankles. Stepping out of his bedclothes, Abe bent forward and set his naked buns right at the corner of the awaiting sturdy knee well aware of the pleasure this would give Jared to see him like this.
Jared got up on his elbows to watch the not unfamiliar and very pleasing sight of dad's belt lashing rapidly down at an angle, giving his big brother a good solid twenty licks. Jared even tried a half-assed attempt at brotherly empathy, but it was useless right then, so he just enjoyed.
"ou, Ou, OU! OU!! Dad!!" Abe yelped through the last of them, but as usual kept his position perfectly still.
"I'm not quite finished with you Abe. I should have given you a spanking earlier, but I thought that wasn't necessary. Apparently I was wrong!" and Abe's face fell. Dad was right, he had really looked the ol' gift horse in the mouth this time and Jared would be treated to a really good eyeful this go around!
"How does he do that!?" Jared actually thought to himself still enjoying the sights, but consciously wondered to himself how did Abe always seem to be able to keep his pre-roasted buns so high up for dad's mandatory hand spanking? Jared never could. Maybe there was more to admire about Abe than he thought; that and the unwanted tears that were coursing down Abe's face. Big deal, Jared knew that if it were him, he would usually be in hysterics by now. Oh well, at least it wasn't him over dad's knee!
Dave spanked and spanked very hard that evening before finally tipping his well punished son back up to standing. Abe wiped his eyes and face and gingerly palmed his blistered bottom as his dad explained to both boys what the phone call was all about and then left the room after a last warning about any more out-of-bed excursions. Abe just stood there a moment and stared at Jared, both boys incredulous at what dad had told them! …
There were no lectures, none were needed, only the pronouncement of punishment for the three already established charges: stealing alcohol, drinking it and driving (or even riding) under its influence. Paul had sent Mark to the garage to fetch his big black leather strap and Mark obeyed on the double and then handed it to his dad as if it was red-hot.
Paul gave it to Jim's father for the first round. Each dad would add bright red stripes across each boy's upraised bared bottom. Over-the-knee spankings would follow, all in front of Mark, Chad and Tommy.
It was really weird for the little brothers having never seen all three big brothers naked all at once much less hip to hip over the back of the Roberts' family room couch, Andy in the middle. As the strap fell at an alarmingly fast clip, all any of the naked boys could do was grunt, yelp, look at each other in distress and hope for a fast finish. Mark's, Chad's and Tommy's eyes were riveted to say the least; they would likely never see such a sight as this again including the next morning at the gym.
After the strappings, three simultaneous spankings commenced. The whippings hurt bad, but getting a spanking perched over dad's knee on top of a fresh strapping was awful; nonetheless, each older son managed to take his spanking stoically, though each had a few involuntary tears towards the end.
When it was done and the naked older boys stood, sweat glistening off of foreheads, finger-tips carefully searching out freshly and thoroughly seared flesh, Paul Roberts nodded,
"OK, if you boys want, camp out here for the night or head home with your parents, up to you."
That was a no brainer, Jim and Chuck wanted to stay. Punished together, they wanted to nurse their wounds together, but there really was another much better reason that probably was best kept secret. As the punished boys carefully slid on their briefs, Mark piped up with a curious and conspiratorial grin,
"What about us dad?"
Paul Roberts knew all about this little brotherly competition. He looked at Andy with a knowing smirk,
"Well, you probably should head on back to your own room son and give these poor guys some space!"
Andy rolled his eyes, not fooled by this little family one-upmanship. He knew what would go over best with his dad,
"No, no … stay here with us by all means Mark! You too Chad and Tommy, right dad?" a hint of sarcasm blending in with his own knowing smirk. Mark grinned at Chad and Tommy who grinned back, this might actually work!
Paul chuckled, the end game at hand,
"OK, but keep it down boys and get to bed soon, you and yours are in charge Andy," Paul directed as he looked directly at Mark, Chad and Tommy, their triumphant grins turning to small pouts of defeat. Grinning ear to ear, Paul turned and walked out of the room with his peers who chuckled with their own approvals.
"What's the matter bro? Don't want to hang out now?" Andy teased Mark, he knew what Jim and Chuck were thinking.
Mark was about to marshal his troops back to his room, not about to be under Andy's thumb, but Tommy intervened and whispered something interesting into Mark's ear, something that caught his attention that sounded like fun. Mark smiled, Tommy was right,
"Are you kidding bro? Wouldn't miss hanging out with my loving big brother and his chums for all the money in China!" and watched with glee as now the three older boys furrowed their brows, their bluff called for the moment.
Jared's puckered lips breathed a low whistling sound, wagging his head side to side after dad's news and then chuckled aloud as Abe dived under his bed covers not wishing Jared to see his naked red ass any more than was necessary,
"What's the matter Abe, ass hurt? How about you join those guys in the gym tomorrow in front of God and everyone, hey?"
Still miffed at Jared for his sneak attack, Abe's hands were still trying to rub out some of the soreness from his glowing cheeks,
"How about you shut your pie hole Jared!" and then quickly turned his back to his little brother to begin his own attempt at revenge, pretending to prepare for some post-spanking personal relief, nursing a coincidental but well timed full bladder.
Jared smiled to himself. Did Abe seriously think that he didn't know about his big brother's "secret" tube-sock-under-the-mattress trick for masturbation? Maybe mom and dad were tricked, but not him! Jared had his own hidden sock now, turned his back to Abe's bed and would have his own fun at Abe's expense, but there was a lot more to gloat about than just Abe. There was that braggart snot, Mark Roberts. Oh how the mighty had fallen, big time! Tomorrow would be sweet!
"Hey big bro, I still don't want no stupid boys lookin' at you in the gym naked, that's not cool!" Mark smoothly spoke as three of the six briefs-clad boys sat cross legged on a sea of unzipped sleeping bags sipping on fruit juice boxes from the kitchen. The other three were still nursing burning bottoms as well as strategically prone, propped up on elbows.
Not fooled, Andy winked at Jim and Chuck, well aware of their silent stares of slowly increasing "need."
"Yea, right, you just don't want to get an earful of crap from Jared tomorrow," and gave his little brother not a little shove.
"Hey! If he says one word, I'll kick his ass!" Mark smirked, ignoring the shove, wary of retaliation, instead glancing around the room. He and his were cool, but three older dudes were starting to suspiciously squirm. Tommy was right, they wanted to circle jerk after their whippings!
Andy pursed his lips a little; he was starting to need to get after it and knew Jim and Chuck were also in the same shape. Either Mark already knew what was going on or was just being his usual little shit self and still in the dark about you know what.
Andy was in fact betting on the former and deciding on a risky change of tact, got Jim's and Chuck's attentions and then sat himself up. Yup, he had a big ol' boner tenting his briefs. What more was there to lose? If Mark and his wanted to freak out, fine!
Jim's and Chuck's eyes got huge at first and they waited for a reaction from their little brothers. Yes, eyes were darting to Andy's bulge, especially Mark's, but the ceiling had not collapsed down on any of them. Jim and Chuck sat up, boners to the front!
Andy got even bolder, "Yea, check it out little bro, this here is the real thing!" proudly pointing to his tented shorts. Emboldened, Jim bragged, "Yea baby, read it and weep and if you little dudes are intimidated, go take a hike!"
"That goes double for you smart ass!" Chuck challenged Tommy, knowing full well that was what the whispering had been all about.
Mark folded his arms and frowned at his buddies, that is after checking out his big brother's amazingly big boner. They were busted and he knew it. He had tried his best and running to tattle with dad that Andy was "being a jerk" as he might have even a year ago was clearly out of the question now. Besides it being chicken-shit, some things had become more important,
"OK, OK, big fucking deal, so come on, have you guys circle jerked before or NOT?" Mark demanded in order to check out Tommy's suspicions, all of them darting glances over at all of their big bros' mighty swords.
Finally, a break in the tension, Andy grinned, he had nothing to be ashamed of now!
"Summer camp last year after Mr. Bad Ass Director beat on our whole cabin for smoking cigarettes just two days before the end of session!" and all three older boys cracked up.
Chad shook his head, "You guys are freaks, you really beat off in front of each other after that?"
Jim looked at Chad, "Yea! What's your problem bro?"
Chad blushed and looked down, the real-life confessions having an unexpected and rapid influence, "I guess I ain't got no problem, well maybe one!" and closed up his knees. Mark and Tommy blushed and closed up their knees as well.
This was great! Satisfied that he and his had won that round, Andy decided to go for it,
"OK, finally; bullshit aside, let's be real. You guys want to jerk off with us?"
Why is it that most any chance to masturbate trumps everything else in a boy's mind? (I know, stupid question), Mark's face started to twitch. This might be fun, so spying two other agreeable expressions Mark grinned,
"Fuck yea, bring it on!"
Abe knew Jared better than Jared suspected. Jared would never pass up a chance to get Abe in trouble with mom or dad, so why should he not try and turn the tables? Abe easily got up the nerve to try and make it happen, so he only pretended to get out his hidden tube sock and proceeded to put on a show.
After just a few moments, Abe's exaggerated moaning and thrashing about under his covers was getting down-right irritating! "Get on with it already!" Jared thought to himself having already boned up both over reliving Abe's butt blistering in his mind, but also how sweet it would be to see those older boys and especially Mark's big brother, Andy, all get public whippings the next day.
Abe moderately reduced his verbal carrying-on, replacing it with jiggling his body and covers like he was really getting to the very end of jacking himself silly. This had the effect of encouraging Jared to get totally into himself and ignore Abe. Abe slowly stopped his fake gyrations, waited to hear evidence of Jared's self-efforts getting a head of steam and then without warning, bolted from his bed,
"You are so busted! I'm gonna tell mom and dad you're beating off!" and rushed from the room!
Abe's surprising threat caused instant guilt which snowballed into panic as Jared watched Abe's sudden egress. The policy in the Palmer home was that the boys could enter their parents' bedroom sans knocking any time of the night if there was any real threat of harm or overriding concerns.
Well, such a judgment is entirely subjective and easily distorted by fear. Jared was scared shitless and didn't stop to think that Abe's complaint would be quickly ridiculed. Instead, Jared bolted from his bedroom and headed to his folks' room to defend himself, expecting that Abe would be there nearly already!
Dave had finally nodded off to sleep as the bedroom door flew wide open. Dave startled up to sitting in his bed, "Jared! What!?"
Jared looked around his parents' bedroom. NO ABE!
No, Abe was safely chuckling to himself having quickly ducked behind the closed bathroom door halfway between his bedroom and dad's. That full bladder of his was ready to perform if necessary.
"But! But!" Jared stammered as father Dave's face reddened and his mouth curled down into a most dangerous frown. He waited for Jared to announce something very important, but Jared just dumbly stood there without further complaint.
"Jared! You better have a gold plated perfect reason for busting in here like this!"
"But I thought! … " and then it dawned on Jared. He had been bluffed out of his skin and had better retreat fast!
"Sorry Dad, um … my mistake, good night!" and reached for the doorknob.
"You wait one damn minute mister!" Dave hissed. "Dave?!" wife Laura awoke.
"Nothing dear, go back to sleep," Dave patted his wife and then jumped up to standing and pointed to his dumbstruck son,
"You are in big trouble, back to you room mister!" Dave said and Jared turned, his face falling as his mind contemplated a very sore behind quickly on the way.
Abe was almost giggly. He heard two pair of feet walking quickly down the hallway passing the bathroom. That would be dad and Jared on the way to their bedroom. Then a single pair of feet returned and stopped, just about the time Abe cut loose with a nice loud stream of piss down into the toilet bowl.
Dave heard the obvious sound, but knocked on the door and poked his head in, "Sorry Abe, I was concerned you weren't in bed, but you're fine. Jared on the other hand has lost his mind!" and closed the door.
Abe grinned and shouted to himself, "Gotcha Jared, you little shit!" and quickly finished his pee and shot down the hallway to his bedroom. Jared was already standing between dad's knees, PJs and briefs at his ankles and nearly in tears …
"Come stand by me Mark, "Andy whispered in genuine conciliatory tones. They had fought and squabbled just like all big and little bothers do over their years together, but some things transcend even the strongest rivalries.
Andy had quickly organized the very quiet trip to the Roberts' back yard to the back edge of their huge weeping willow tree that dominated the space and brother pairs stood together in a wide enough circle together to prevent splashes from hitting across to the other guy. Underwear were lowered to mid-thigh around the circle, the older boys confidently, the younger boys a little anxiously.
Andy smiled warmly at Mark's face and then gave a proud brotherly smirk as he looked down at his little brother's erection,
"Hey, not bad little bro," and then whispered across to his buddies, OK guys, let's do it!" and nobody needed to say anything more.
Andy's fist started to work his erection, Jim's and Chuck's did theirs too. Mark kept looking over at Andy's fist and how he stroked and then imitated his big brother and found Andy's technique so much better than his own. Tommy and Chad pretty much did the same thing; but in a short while, six pairs of eyes were closed and boy juices started to boil up, each boy into his own thing.
There would never be any discussion about it afterwards, but pretty much, the grist in each boy's minds centered directly on visualizing his own or his buddy's or his big brother's older bare boy bottom over the horse in the high school gym as well as the familiar sounds of paddle, strap and switch, proving once again that breaking the law in their small community could be a very painful choice. The older boys pawed at their still glowing tails to aid their efforts, but that went unnoticed by the younger set.
Once one boy started to softly moan, they all followed quickly, the dull thuds of the generous splashing streams of semen spattering the backyard grass. Once it was done, each boy sighed and pulled up his shorts.
Then they all went silently back into the house together and virtually crashed on top of the sleeping bags and bedding, not much else to be said. Just before sleep descended on each, Andy caught Mark's eye and gathered in a wordless glint that said, "not bad big bro." Andy winked but once at Mark and then hit the sack, maybe Mark wasn't such a pain in the ass after all.
"Poor little Jared, he talks a big game, but can't run with the big boys yet!" Abe thought to himself as he watched and listened to the familiar spectacle, Jared's howling already in full gear. It also hadn't taken long for Jared's hand to fly protectively back to his stinging rear, but dad caught it as usual and pinned it firmly into the deep hallow just above Jared's upturned bottom cheeks,
"Keep still Jared! You're not doing yourself any favors tonight, are you son!" Dave said with parental irritation.
"I can't help it dad, it hurts!" Jared wailed, tears running down his face. He tried not to blubber, but just one look over at his triumphant big brother was more than he could take and he started to sob, something that never impressed dad. Dad's hand then went back into hard fast action.
The spanking didn't last much longer, but didn't have to. Dave stood his sobbing younger son upright and pointed a finger at each son, one after the other,
"I swear, any more of this nonsense and I'll have the both of you over that horse in the gym with those other boys tomorrow, am I clear!?"
"Yes daddy!" Jared quickly responded. "Yes sir dad," Abe replied, the very thought of himself getting a public whipping provoking the creepiest feelings ever. Dad left the room, closing the bedroom door with a little extra effort.
Jared wiped his face and then plopped himself prone onto his bed, both hands slowly rubbing his blistered bottom, but he looked across at Abe nonetheless. Jared's face grew a bit softer, his revenge very satisfying,
"Are we even now?" Abe asked. Jared sighed. He had to admit that his usually dullish big brother had pulled a good one over on him,
"Yea, we're even."
Both boys then covered up, turned their bodies towards the wall and each plotted for some sweet pre-sleep relief that had not yet capped the night's efforts. Tube socks were put in play and the Palmer boys quietly were off to the races, each finishing in first place with little effort, their minds with plenty to stoke their lustful fires and get the job done!
"Nite dumbshit," Abe said afterwards, smirking to himself in the darkness, wadding up the moistened tube sock and slipping it back under the wall-side edge of his mattress.
"Nite dickweed," Jared smirked in reply, his sock comically stuffed back into the front of his own PJ bottoms so that theoretically he wouldn't forget to deposit it discreetly into the laundry hamper the next morning.
Next: Blistered Bottoms In Brisbee Creek: The Next Day (the story's conclusion)
© Copyright PJ Franklin October 15, 2009
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Last updated: October 15, 2009