Carl Spanks Me Again!

I spent a lot of time over at my friend Billy's. I stayed over week-ends a lot. I enjoyed it because it got me out of our house. My dad and I didn't get along very well, so I was glad to spend any time away from home. Billy was my best friend, and his mom always provided things to do, like movies or games or trips to cool places and, of course, there was my namesake.

When I say I craved Carl's attention, I mean it. I didn't know why, but I looked forwards to seeing him, even though he tortured me at every opportunity. Sometimes he would grab me and tickle me until I couldn't catch my breath. A lot of the time, this involved pushing me down on my back and straddling my skinny hips, so that his crotch rubbed against mine. Sometimes, I could feel something hard rubbing against my stuff, even though I didn't know what it was. Sometimes he would push me down on my tummy, so that his crotch was rubbing against my bottom while he tickled me. Then, I could feel his hard pete-pee rubbing against my butt crack. For some reason, this excited me, and my own pee-pee would get hard too.

The utterly coolest thing to wear when I was ten was a pair of Levis. All the older boys wore them, and they were cool, so I desperately wanted a pair. I begged and begged my mum for a pair, around my birthday, but she didn't understand why I wanted them, when they were more expensive than the jeans she bought me at Woolworth's. Mothers really didn't understand what was cool and what wasn't, and what a status symbol Levi's were. I begged and pleaded and offered my allowance money to help pay for them, and she finally bought me a pair.

I was ecstatic! Now, this was back on the old days, before jeans came pre-faded and pre-shrunk. When you got a pair of Levi's,they were almost black and smelt like creosote, and too stiff and scratchy to wear. It was part of boy-lore how you made them wearable.

First, you had to soak them in the bathtub overnight, in hot water with some fabric softener. That about got my butt whipped but good, when my dad saw the blue stain in the tub the next day. I spent about an hour with a brush and some scouring powder over that one!

Next, you had to wash them four or five times in hot water, so they would fade to blue and be soft enough to wear. Mothers always bought your clothes kind of big back then, so you could "grow into them", so you always wound up looking like Charlie Chaplin, but I talked my mum into getting me a pair that fit, even if they were too long, which was okay, because all the boys wore them with cuffs turned up, which was cool.

So, one week-end, I showed up at Billy's I'm my brand-new, properly treated Levi's. He was totally envious because he didn't have a pair even though their family had more money to spend than ours (he subsequently got a pair by telling his mum that it wasn't fair that I jad Levi's and he didn't).

That afternoon, as were up in Billy's room. We were stretched out om his bed, reading comic books, when Carl came in. He was wearing his Scout uniform, with shorts and neckerchief, and he was sunburned a little. He looked awesome!

As he walked past me, he ran his fingers through my crew-cut, messing it all up.

"Hey!" I protested, sitting up and trying to fix my hair."Quit it!" He sat down in the chair by Billy's desk, with a big grin.

"Quit it!" he saiid, mocking me. I started to get mad.

"Get out, shithead!" Billy said. We had just learnt the word, and were using it to describe everyone who made us cross."This is MY room! Go back to YOUR room and leave us alone!" Carl laughed.

"I can do whatever I want," he said, leaning back in the chair."I'm in charge of you little shits until Mum gets back tomorrow." This was true, because Billy's mum HAD left him in charge while she took Susan to their grandparents'.

"I'm telling! You said the 's' word!" Billy said.

"What if I tell Mum you called me a shithead?" Carl retorted."Who do you think she's gonna believe, you or me?" Well, he kind of had us there.

"Besides," he said."I came up here to give Carl something."

"What?" we both asked, warily.

"Something special," Carl said, nonchalantly."But, I guess, if you don't want it ..."

"What is it?" I asked."Do you have it on you?"

"It's right here. If you want it, come get it."

"No, don't!" Billy said."It's a trick!" I stood up anyway, and walked over to Carl.

"So, what is it?" I asked. He grinned an evil grin.

"It's a spanking!" he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me across his lap. My feet were in the air and my fingers touched the floor.

"Hey!" I protested, indignantly."I didn't do anything!"

"You're a brat," he said, and he picked up Billy"s wooden brush from the dresser. I had felt the sting of a hairbrush on my bottom before, from my dad. I started struggling, but Carl looped his right leg over mine, holding me tight, my legs kind of spread.

"I am not a brat!" I protested.

"Yes, you are!" Carl said, and brought the hairbrush down hard, on the seat of my new Levi's.

"Owww!" I howled. It hurt, even through the denim. I squirmed and twisted.

"Say you're a brat!" Carl demanded.

"No! I won't!" I said. Carl peppered my butt with the hairbush until it throbbed.

"Owww! Okay! I'm a brat!" I howled."Lemme go!" He just laughed again and kept on whacking my bottom.

"Leave him alone!" Billy protested.

"Owooo!" I howled. This REALLY hurt!

"You're next!" Carl said to Billy. That shut him up. He continued his assault on my increasingly sore rear end.

Finally, he let me go. I stood up, rubbing the seat of my jeans.

"Pull them down," Carl ordered.

I started to protest, but one look at his face and I meekly unbuckled my belt and unzipped my jeans and pushed them down to my knees. He pulled me back over his lap, grabbing the waistband of my briefs and pulling them up so tight that I got a super-wedgie. It pulled my stuff up tight and my bottom-cheeks were exposed. I was afraid he would use the brush again, but he began to spank me with his open hand. It burned like crazy and I whimpered some, but my pee-pee was getting all stiff and tingly. I wriggled some, but I didn't cry out.

Then, to my total embarrassment, he pulled my briefs down, exposing my bare red bottom, right in front of my best friend!

I looked up, trying as best I could not to cry. I wriggled and squirmed, glancing up at Billy. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring, his mouth open, as he watched his big brother give his best friend a blistering, bare-bottom spanking. I looked up imploringly, and he shifted uncomfortably. I tensed my butt, but it didn't help. Carl pulled my legs apart with his right leg and started spanking the inside of my buttcheeks! My dad had NEVER spanked me there! It was tender there and it burned like fire! No amount of squirming and wriggling did anything to help.

Say you're a little sissy-boy!" he demanded.

"No!" I wailed, but he kept on, spanking my bare bottom. It was on fire! I begged and pleaded, but nothing helped. I finally gave in:

"Okay!" I wailed."I'm a sissy-boy! Please!"

He finally let go of me. I stood up, my feet dancing a little, as I rubbed my VERY sore bottom.My pee-pee was sticking out from my hairless crotch. I tugged my briefs up, wincing as the cotton scraped my burning butt. I pulled my jeans up and tucked my shirt in, and buckled my belt. Carl stood up.

"You gonna behave now, brat?" he asked, kind of gently.

"Uh-huh," I said, quietly.

"Good," he said. He mussed my hair again. Then he left.

"I can't believe he did that to you," Billy said."That must have really hurt. He really hates you!"

"No, he doesn't!" I retorted."He was just playing. It didn't hurt that much. Honest." I rubbed the seat of my jeans. My butt felt really hot, and my pee-pere was still stiff and tingling.

"You're weird," Billy said. Then he laughed and I did, too, and we went back to reading comic books, until dinner. I admit, I had a little discomfort,sitting. Carl made cheeseburgers. He let us stay up late and watch TV.

I had just put my pajamas on and I was brushing my teeth when Carl came into the bathroom.

"I didn't hurt you, did I, brat?" he asked.

"Nuh-uh," I answered. My bottom still felt warm. Then, to my amazement, I blurted out: "You can spank me.anytime. If I'm bad."

"Okay," he said, mussing my hair again."But only if you're bad." He patted my sore bottom on the way out of the door. I made up my mind to be just a little bad, when he was around. And I was.