Tales of Brian's Bare Tail 4: The Halloween Tale(F/b, MFF/g, 
FM/b, nc, otk, public)
by Nialos Leaning

Copyright 1997 by Nialos Leaning, all rights reserved.  
Permission for noncommercial electronic distribution and
personal use reproduction of this story is hereby granted.
All such distribution, re-posting and reproduction must be
without alteration of this story in any way, must include
this entire copyright notice, and must in their entireties
retain the following statements:

"The following story is intended for ADULTS ONLY.  This
story depicts two preteens, a boy and a girl, being spanked. 
If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such
material, do not read further, do not save this story, but
do immediately shut down your computer and report to your
parents for a well deserved bare bottom spanking."

"If you don't like stories of preteens being spanked, than
don't read this story.  Please do understand that some of
us, including the author, enjoy such fantasy material."

"This story is pure fantasy, written for the enjoyment of
adults.  At least, the author hopes they will enjoy it.
Behavior depicted in this story may in real life be illegal
or considered by society to be abusive, harmful,
unacceptable or undesirable.  Not wishing to earn a spanking
or two, Nialos Leaning neither advocates, condones nor
personally engages in any such behavior."

"Being a politically incorrect type, Nialos declines to
state a personal opinion concerning real life spanking of
children.  Nialos does, however, remind readers that this
story, as is all fiction, is fantasy and not reality."

"Compliments and constructive criticism always welcome.
Flammers will be charged a $250.00 processing fee per flame
message received and subject to a severe bare bottom
spanking by any and all willing citizens of Assville."

Now, without further ado, before this disclaimer stuff
becomes longer then the story, earning Nialos a sound
spanking for boring everyone to tears, on with Brian's
Halloween tale of his bare tail.  Enjoy!

************************
  
Tales of Brian's Bare Tail: The Halloween Tale
by Nialos Leaning


"But, mom," protested ten-year-old Brian Evans, "I want to
be a Space Marauder!"

"Brian," again explained the exasperated Nancy Evans, "that
costume costs way too much, over sixty dollars."

"It's no fair!" exclaimed Brian.  "Stacey's got her stinking
old princess costume!"

"It does not stink!" squeaked Brian's seven-year-old sister.

"Brian," his mom responded as calmly as she could, "we all
agreed to no more than thirty-five dollars each.  Stacey's
outfit was thirty-two ninety-five."

"I don't care!" shouted Brian, "I want the Space Marauder."

Mrs. Evans was rapidly becoming very irritated with Brian.  
She had decided to give the kids a treat of a ride downtown
on the train to visit the best costume and theatrical supply
shop in the entire area.  Offering a wide variety, with many
unique selections, the "Lively Arts" was much better than
the mall stores, and correspondingly more expensive. And now
Brian was ruining things by throwing a temper tantrum like a
two-year-old.

"For the last time," said a menacingly voiced Nancy Evans,
"I'm telling you to pick something else."

"It's not fair, you don't care what I want!" screamed Brian
at his now completely flustered mother. She was certain that
every pair of eyes in the store was staring at her.

"That's it young man, I've had enough out of you. Outside,
now!" Brian's mom sternly ordered.

Brian knew what that command meant.  Once more, his mom was
about to prove that she wasn't afraid to use what all his
friends called "his mom's law."  The law that she had been a
ringleader in getting passed.  The law that said it was
legal to spank kids.  The law that said that as part of
punishment kids could be made to be naked in public.  The
law that his parents, his teacher, and even Santa had
already used against him.  "No, Mom, please, I'll pick out
something else," pleaded a now panicky Brian.

"Too late. March out that door this instant," came the not
unexpected answer.

Once outside, Mrs. Evans pulled her son over to a bench
facing the crowded sidewalk. She reached out and unsnapped
his jeans.  "No mom, don't pull my pants down in front of
all these people," begged the suddenly crying Brian.

"I most certainly will," responded his mom as she finished
undoing his zipper.  With one quick yank, Brian's jeans fell
to his ankles.  "And these too," Nancy Evans added as she
sent Brian's underpants to join his jeans.

Instantaneously, Brian's face went red.  He absolutely hated
having his everything, as he called his privates, on display
for one and all to see.  He abhorred that part of his
punishments even more than the spankings, terrible as they
were.

"Step out of those things and give them to me," Brian's
mother instructed.

"Please, mom, please, can't I just keep them down?" appealed
the desperate Brian. He knew from experience that once his
mom had his clothing, it would be a very, very long time
before he would once more be decently dressed.

"Now, young man," commanded Mrs. Evans.

Brian began crying more loudly as he complied. He would most
definitely be showing off his everything on the train ride
home. Once home, thanks to the hamper rule, he would still
be minus his missing clothes.  In the Evans' household,
before putting on a fresh article of clothing, the
previously worn one had to be put in the hamper.  But, with
his mom having his pants and underwear, he couldn't put them
in the hamper. And, he knew, she wouldn't let him put new
ones on until she gave him back his old ones to put in the
hamper. That could be today, or tomorrow, or the day after
tomorrow, or even next week.       

Unnoticed by Brian till now, an audience had grown around
the bench.  Brian became acutely aware of the comments of
the adults and the sniggering giggling of the watching kids. 
Without warning, Nancy Evans grabbed her son, positioning
him over her lap.  Like a sudden thunderstorm, she instantly
began hand spanking Brian's bare bottom.

Brian's crying turned to a steady vocal sobbing as smack
after smack struck his defenseless behind.  Soon, his legs
were kicking in unison with each spank. He was finding it
increasingly difficult not to move around on his mother's
lap.  In short order, his bottom went from a cool white to a
pale pink.  His sobbing grew louder.  After twenty-four hard
slaps, his mom stopped.  Quickly she retrieved her hairbrush
from her purse.  Just a quickly, she resumed spanking.

Mrs. Evans' hairbrush did its usual energy efficient job of
heating up Brian's rear end.  Pink changed to red.  Leg
kicking became furious scissoring.  Soon, Brian's sobbing
was replaced by his famous banshee imitation.  Still, his
mother's branding iron of a hairbrush continued to descend,
time after time.  Brian's pleas of "stop, stop!" were
ignored until a full treatment of thirty burning spanks had
been delivered to his naughty bare behind.

Nancy Evans set Brian, sporting a very bright red backside,
on his feet. Immediately, Brian started entertaining the
audience with a brisk jig, hopping from foot to foot.  He
knew better than to try to rub his bottom or to cover up his
privates.

"I bet that butt's hot enough to cook an egg on," someone
commented.

"Maybe that's what I need to do with you," a mother told her
daughter.

Brian's blush, which had never completely left him, deepened
at hearing the audience commentary.

Spying a nearby pay phone, Mrs. Evans grabbed Brian by the
arm and dragged him toward it.  "I need to call Mrs.
Collins," she said.  Mrs. Collins was Elizabeth Collins, the
Evans' next door neighbor.  Sammy the Brat, as Brian called
nine-year-old Samatha Collins, was his some time friend,
some time enemy, and being a girl, all time irritant.

Hanging up the phone, Nancy Evans announced, "we're visiting
the Collins tonight.  Sammy's to be spanked."  Brian's heart
sank even lower.  This meant he was to be spanked again
tonight.  That didn't surprise him.  Since "his mom's law,"
he was never spanked just once in a day, he always received
a second one later on.  It was being spanked with Sammy that
he didn't like.  Last Christmastime at the mall, his mom and
Mrs. Collins had made a deal.  Since Sammy's mother, a
single parent, was new to spanking, Brian's parents would
help spank Sammy, so her mom could learn.  And, for
practice, Mrs. Collins could help spank Brian.

"Come on," said Brian's mom, "back in the store.  I have to
order costumes for you and Sammy."   Once in the store, Mrs.
Evans went to the special order desk.  The female clerk, a
teenager, constantly stared at the naked below the waist
Brian.  As his mother described what she wanted, the clerk's
smile grew broader and broader.  After a few moments, Mrs.
Evans signed the order form and paid her deposit.

"Okay, it's time to catch the train home," she informed her
children.

* * *

The train ride home was pure misery for Brian.  The
conductor teased him.  Adults made statements about "being
glad to see that some parents still knew how to handle
naughtiness."  Two girls his age sitting in the seat in
front of him were constantly turning around and giggling as
they pointed to his everything.  A teenager said that Brian
must be going fishing, since everyone could see the "worm"
he was carrying between his legs.

As they entered the house, Brian begged his mother, "please
mom, can I have my clothes back?"

"No you can't," came the immediate reply.  "You get them
back when I'm ready to give them back, and not before."

"Please, mom," persisted Brian.

"Not another word, young man!"

"But, mom," Brian valiantly gave it the old college try.

"That's enough out of you, get the chair," came the order
from the thoroughly angered Mrs. Evans.

Brian and Stacey both immensely disliked the chair.  Both
kids greatly hated having their privates on public display. 
Capitalizing on this, their parents never put them in a
corner after an at home spanking.  Usually, they had to
stand or kneel in the middle of the living room for a
specified time.  For very serious offenses or special
circumstances, they had to sit bare bottomed on the chair in
the punishment posture of legs spread, feet on the side
rungs, hands grasping the top of the rear legs. The hard
wood chair was extremely painful for a just spanked bottom. 

The distraught Brian brought in the dreaded chair.  He
positioned it in the usual spot, two feet away from the
three steps leading up from the small entry foyer, facing
the door.  Anyone at the front door would have an eye-level
view of his everything.

"Don't even think of getting up from this chair," said
Brian's mother, "or even moving an inch, until supper time." 

"Yes mom," replied the dejected Brian. 

Two hours later, Brian only half-heartedly ate his supper. 
All too soon for the still bare bottomed Brian, the family
went visiting the Collins.

Answering Tom Evans knock, a red faced Sammy invited the
Evans family to "please come on in."  Like Brian, she was
naked from the waist down.  Unlike Brian, she did not have
on any footwear.

"Welcome, everyone," Elizabeth Collins greeted her guests.

After a few minutes of chit-chat, the adults decided it was
time to get down to business.

"Tom, Nancy, I would be so grateful if you would start
Sammy's spanking," said Samatha's mother.

"Be glad to," answered Tom Evans.  "Sammy, get over here,
now."

The crying, blushing girl made her way over to Brian's
father.  Reluctantly, she positioned herself over Mr. Evans
lap.  "Sammy's being punished for back talking to her
teacher, and like Brian, for arguing about her costume,"
announced her mother.

"Well, let's hope she learns from this," Tom Evans said as
his hand smacked the Brat's bare behind.  Time after time
the punishing hand fell, quickly reddening the sobbing,
kicking Sammy's bottom.

"No more, no more," pleaded the weeping girl.  "It hurts, it
hurts, please stop!"  But stop Tom Evans didn't, until
twenty stinging blows had been delivered.

Standing Sammy up, Brian's dad ordered her to go to Mrs.
Evans.  Swiftly, the girl found herself over Nancy Evans
lap.  Brian's mom lost no time in bringing her hairbrush
down onto Sammy's already punished posterior.  Twenty brush
strokes had the Brat wailing a not-so-merry tune, kicking up
a violent storm.  Sammy had neither breath nor energy to
spare on pleas for mercy.  After twenty hard strokes, the
brightly red bottomed girl was sent hopping over to her
mother.

For a third time that evening, Samatha Collins found herself
over an adult's lap, awaiting a spanking.  Her mother wasted
no time in obliging her daughter.  Twenty-four very hard
ruler spanks had Sammy doing a very good imitation of
Brian's imitation of a banshee.  Her bottom turned crimson,
her kicking became almost a blur, her wails were punctuated
with frenzied screams.

Once on her feet, Sammy danced and pranced about in a
furiously fierce frenzy, to the amusement of her audience. 
Her uncontrollable howling seemed incapable of ceasing.  

"Liz, would you be so kind as to start Brian off?" asked
Mrs. Evans.

"Be my pleasure," replied Sammy's mother. "Brian, come here,
young man."

Resignedly, Brian went to Mrs. Collins, who promptly had him
over her lap.  And just as promptly, commenced ruler
spanking his bare bottom, still slightly pink form his
earlier spanking downtown.  Brian was shedding tears by the
third spank, crying out loud by the seventh, kicking by the
tenth and imploring for a halt by the twelfth.  After
administering a dose of twenty-four spanks, Sammy's mother
ended her torture of Brian's now red behind.

"Brian, to your dad," ordered his mom.  Brian was quickly
draped over his father's lap, who lost no time in putting
the family's spanking hairbrush to good use.  Again and
again the wicked implement seared a burning pain into
Brian's bare hindquarters. For the second time that day,
Brian was reduced to acting like a banshee, outdoing Sammy's
recent performance. His kicking was most vigorous, rivaling
that of the Brat's.  His wails and howls undoubtedly could
be heard by the entire block, maybe even the whole
neighborhood.  Brian's occasional incoherent appeal to
"stop, stop!" was completely ignored. On and on Brian's dad
spanked, until the brush had massaged Brian's behind thirty
times.


Brian cavorted about the room every bit as frantically as
Sammy had.  His bottom matched the deep crimson color of the
Brat's.  Once Brian had calmed down somewhat, he and Sammy
were made to stand in the middle of the room, hands behind
head.  There they stayed for the next thirty minutes, as the
two families socialized.

To Brian's relief, the evening drew to a close.  "Thank you
for coming," Elizabeth Collins told her guests as they
exited the house.  "I'll pick the costumes up Thursday."

"Thank you," replied Brian's mother.

After a prompt from her mother, Sammy told the Evans adults,
"Thank you for spanking me." 

"You're welcome," responded Mr. and Mrs. Evans, almost in
unison.

"Mrs. Collins, thank you for spanking me," added Brian after
a nudge from his mother.

"You're welcome, Brian," replied Sammy's mother.

* * *

The next morning, Brian was happy to discover that he would
be fully attired for school.  He was not happy that his mom
would not give him any clue as to his Halloween costume. 
She threatened him with another spanking and being naked all
week if he persisted in asking.  He would have to just wait
the four days till Halloween, as would Sammy.  

Brian's anxiety grew as Halloween drew nearer.  At school on
Halloween day, the time, instead of its usual dragging pace,
flew by.  After school, once Stacey was in her princess
costume, Brian finally learned his fate for the evening.  

His mom brought in a bag from the "Lively Arts" shop. 
"Remove all your clothes, and I mean all."

Too scared to protest, Brian immediately stripped completely
naked.

"Put this on," his mother said, handing him from the bag a
bright red shirt.

Brian was aghast.  The short shirt would be several inches
shy of his belly button.  "Please spank me, I've been very
naughty!" was written on the front side in big bold black
lettering.  A pouch inscribed "use to give two of your best"
had been sewn on to the back of the shirt.

A red faced and crying Brian put the shirt on even as he
protested, "please mom, no, don't make me wear this!"

"That's your costume, young man, so wear it" replied his
mother.  "You know what happened last time you argued about
a costume."

"Yes, mom," dejectedly responded Brian.

"Now, get your shoes and socks back on," ordered Mrs. Evans. 
Once he had done so, his mother handed him a treat bag the
same bright red as his shirt.

Brian's sniffling grew even louder and more persistent.
"Trick first, treat second, spank before giving goodies" was
inscribed on both sides of the bag.  Worse, there was a
drawing of a kid's bare bottom being walloped by a
hairbrush.

A hairbrush very much like the one Brian's mother was now
holding.  "This goes in the pouch," she said, her words
matching her actions.

"Please, not the brush!" begged Brian.

"Yes, the brush," affirmed his mother. "It's part of your
costume.  Come along now, time to go get Sammy."

Soon, Brian, Stacey, Sammy and Mrs. Evans were standing in
front of the Collins house. Sammy's costume was identical to
Brian's.

"I bet their behinds end up as red as their shirts," giggled
a delighted Princess Stacey.

"That's the idea," agreed the Princess Mother as the group
of four made its way to the next house.

Before long, most of the neighborhood youngsters had grouped
up with the bare bottomed Brian and Brat, who somehow always
were first to be served at each house. House after house was
delighted to trick first by using the brush, than treating. 
Brian couldn't help thinking that it was the kids who were
supposed to trick the treaters, not the other way round.
   
For two long hours, Brian, Sammy and Stacey went trick and
treating.  As they approached home, all three kids had
overflowing bags.  Two of them, crying very loudly and
hopping more than walking, were exhibiting very red, very
sore, very hot bottoms which indeed matched the color of
their costumes.  Of the fifty-two houses they had visited,
forty-three had been glad to give the two bare bottomed
youngsters "two of their best" with the hairbrush. 

* * *

Once home, Brian's mom made him wear his costume the entire
weekend.  Brian stayed home, not daring to go out.  He
didn't want his friends finding excuses to use the hair
brush on him.  As it was, his parents, upon the slightest
provocation on his part, gave him two of their best. As a
result, Brian was being very careful, with only moderate
success, to be on his very best behavior.  To his relief, he
was permitted to go to school on Monday normally dressed.
All day his classmates teased him endlessly about his
Halloween costume.  For a short time, Brian managed to avoid 
any further imposition of his mom's law.  However, Brian
being Brian and all boy, again experienced his mother's
justice just ten days after Halloween.  But that tale of
Brian's bare tail, and many more, are for another time.

The end, a very red end for Brian, until Brian's bare tail
reveals another tale.