Magical Spankings: JR is A Friend In Deed

Most of JR’s friends didn’t make a real impression on me. It turned out that there were three of them who came with him on a regular basis, and a couple of others who’d show up from time to time. While JR remained his normal gregarious self, the other boys were quiet, and also somewhat cliquish, which resulted in me thinking of them as somewhat shy.

Part of the problem was that they were tall teenagers. As far as I know, all of them were fourteen when I met them, but they looked fourteen. None of them were cute and boyish. None of them were especially handsome either. Since they talked to me mostly when I talked to them, and I don’t think I ever even played a game of Magic with most of them, they mostly stayed in the background.

The one who stood out most to me was AJ Christophe. His single mom was a Francophile, as well as a huge fan of François Truffaut. He wasn’t too shy about admitting that, but it took him over two years to admit that his real name was Antoine Jean-Pierre. No wonder he went by his initials. I guess he’s just lucky she didn’t name him François.

AJ was a bit heavyset, but he had a very pleasant tenor voice. It turns out that he’d made all-district choir every year since he started trying in middle school (and continued to do so throughout high school), that he went to all-region choir three times, and that he actually went to college on a choir scholarship (I didn’t even know they had such things).

When I say heavyset, I don’t mean that he was fat, though he wasn’t stocky like a football player either. He just wasn’t very athletic and carried a few extra pounds of padding.

He was really kind of average beyond that. A decent, but not exceptional face – a slightly crooked nose, a chin that wasn’t weak, thrusting, or dimpled, and a slightly deep brow, which shaded his medium-brown eyes. About his only really unusual feature was his hair. While it was a dirty blond – dark, but still definitely blond – it was somewhat curly. On top, it usually lay flat, but if he let it get down to his ears (and it almost always was at least that long), it started making little half-ringlets in all directions. I’m not sure if it was good looking or not, but it was rather endearing.

The other two regular boys were Kevin and Rob, and that’s almost all I remember about them. They were both skaters, and had decent builds – well toned, but lean, not pumped. They spent a lot of time in the sun, and Kevin seemed to tan easily, with a golden glow, though Rob appeared to have too much Northern European in him to hold a good tan long. Both of them had medium-brown hair. If their features had been even slightly more similar, I would have assumed they were cousins, if not brothers; but Kevin had a thinner, longer face, while Rob’s was rounder, though with strong cheeks and a thin nose that didn’t make his face look chubby. Kevin had dark brown eyes that went with his usual skin tone, while Rob’s were a medium shade of blue.

It actually took a while for me even to remember AJ’s name, much less to be able to keep Rob and Kevin straight, simply because I interacted with them so little. Still, none of them gave me any real trouble in the store, and they seemed to make JR happy, so I was happy enough to have them.

I certainly didn’t have anything against those three regulars or the other boys that JR would occasionally bring with them. I’d liked JR almost since I met him and had only grown closer to him over time. If these kids made him comfortable enough to come to the store more often, then I would like them just for that.

And JR did come to the store more often. At that point, we were having Sunday tournaments and Thursday evening tournaments. The Thursday sessions were smaller, and usually shorter. We tried different times, but I think we were playing from 7pm to about 9:30 at that time. It was occasionally a bit tight, but the smaller turnout made it possible. The late time also meant it was almost exclusively teens and adults, which also made a nice change of pace. I think that, at fourteen, JR and his friends were our youngest regular players there – during the school year at least.

JR was there with his friends almost every Thursday evening. Sundays were a bit less regular, but it was still rare for him to miss one, and I’d say it was less than one a month that he didn’t make. His friends were a bit less regular, and JR would come by himself on an occasional Sunday afternoon, but they mostly ran as a pack. Except for AJ, on one occasion, I don’t remember JR’s friends ever coming by themselves.



Everything went along fine for a while. JR and his friends became regular players in about May of 98. Time passed. Heat waned and waxed. Days became shorter, and the seasons changed.

It was late in 1998, when the sun going down was no longer less hot, but actually becoming nippy. I don’t remember any Halloween decorations, so it was probably early November.

It was time to start the final round of the tournament, and we were short a few players. I walked downstairs and peeked in the arcade to find a couple of them playing air hockey. I called a warning to the two of them, and then looked for my final missing player. When I realized who it was, and when I didn’t see him in the store, my temper started to flare. I walked to the front of the store, stuck my head outside, and sure enough, Kevin was standing not three feet from the door, cigarette in his hand.

"Put that out and get in here," I snapped at him.

I guess he hadn’t heard the door open, because he jumped when I called him. After a second, he looked vaguely guilty; then he reached over to the outdoor ashtray that was by a trashcan and snuffed the cigarette out. He turned and followed me in.

"Time for the next round?" he asked a bit nervously.

"Not for you," I informed him.

Kevin’s voice was deep, but light. He was a baritone, but not someone who did a lot of public performing. It was pleasant enough normally, but I ignored him as he made several abortive attempts to ask what I meant.

I checked when we got back to the game room and found that my two hockey players had already returned. I picked up the record cards, which I’d already matched for the final round, made one quick change, then called out the pairings.

I did not call Kevin, and I’d matched him against JR, which would at least give my friend an automatic win and a chance at a prize this time. Plus, since it was his friend who wasn’t playing, the two of them could make it up at home.

After announcing the last pairing, I motioned JR over to me.

"Me and Kev aren’t playing?" he asked.

"No, and I’m going to tell your dad that Kevin’s not allowed back in the store."

Kevin was standing right behind JR, and when he heard that, he paled, making his spots of acne flare out.

Kevin stood dumbfounded, but JR managed to choke out a ‘why?’

I looked around for a second, then motioned the two of them into the hall. We stepped away from the game room and over towards where the computer work was done at the time. JR glanced at the door, and I wondered if he was remembering the brief, not quite playful, ‘spanking’ I’d given him in there a few months before.

"Because," I answered him, once I was sure we had some privacy and wouldn’t be bothering the players, "he’s been smoking again."

JR shot the other boy a dirty look.

"But I wasn’t smoking in the store," Kevin protested.

"No, but you were still on my property," I pointed out to him.

He opened his mouth, but JR beat him to it.

"Couldn’t you give him one more chance, Jack?"

JR was still glaring at the other boy, so I had a feeling it was more for this trouble than for the smoking.

"He’s already had another chance, JR. I told him when I first caught him doing it that he didn’t need to be smoking up here. When I caught him and Rob both doing it, I told all of you not to do it here. Then, when I caught him again, I told him I wasn’t going to put up with it, and I wasn’t going to give him any more warnings. I even told him, if he just couldn’t help himself, to at least go around the corner. He couldn’t even do that."

Kevin hadn’t looked like he had a lot of argument in him to start, but now he was wilted. I had to admit feeling a little sorry for him. He wasn’t short for fourteen, but he wasn’t as tall as his friends either – probably about 5’5" or maybe a hint taller. When I’d finished indicting him, his shoulders slumped down, making him look even shorter. He wasn’t a cute kid, but I don’t like boys just because of whether they’re cute or not, and I had to suddenly remind myself that he’d brought this upon himself.

"But do you have to tell my dad, Jack? He’ll tell Kevin’s dad, and…"

"Maybe his father needs to know, JR. It’s illegal for you guys to smoke, and maybe he needs something to jerk him up short so he’ll stop this crap."

"Well, couldn’t you just tell my dad then and not ban him from the store. For me," he added in a plea.

That stopped me for a minute. I did like JR and I didn’t want to do something to harm his friendship with this kid, but I also didn’t want to have a bunch of kids at the store that I’d have to be constantly watching.

"If I do that, how will I know if he’s really learned a lesson, JR? I don’t have time to baby-sit every kid that comes up here to play."

Kevin flared briefly at the ‘baby-sit’ comment, but I don’t know if he realized what I meant and kind of agreed with me, or if he was just too worried about the rest of it to get really worked up over the comment.

JR, on the other hand, looked at me for a minute, then took Kevin by the arm.

"Can I talk to him for just a minute? Private, I mean?"

I looked at them a second, then nodded.

I walked back down the hall and looked into the game room. The talk hadn’t taken long, and everyone was in the middle of their games. Mitch was there, and knew at least as much about the rules as I did, so I asked him if he’d handle any questions while I was gone; then I stepped back into the hall.

JR and Kevin were talking, heads close together. It looked like Kevin was protesting whatever JR was saying, but JR shook his head and gestured at him. Kevin turned around and looked at me, obviously unhappy, then looked back to his friend. I think Kevin said something, but JR pointed down the hall (at the game room? at me?) and said something else. Kevin was quiet a moment, then he nodded, but kept turned so he was facing away from me. JR took a step towards me, so I walked back to them.

As I walked down the hall, JR looked at his friend, then took him by the shoulder and turned him.

"Okay, Jack. If you’re sure Kevin’s learned his lesson, will you not kick him out of the store or tell our parents?"

JR seemed pretty concerned about his father finding out, and I wondered if he’d be in trouble for hanging around with a smoker. For that matter, if JR had once had a smoking problem (or still did, and just didn’t do it around me), maybe his father wouldn’t even let Kevin around the house anymore. Was that why he was so worried?

"JR, I’ve talked to him like four or five times now. You’re not going to convince me he’s learned his lesson because I threatened to tell on him."

"What if you whipped him?"

"Excuse me?"

"What if you whipped his butt? That’s what his dad would do. Wouldn’t you be sure he’d learned a lesson if you did it?"

Kevin looked sick. I could see why he’d been protesting.

"Is that what you want, Kevin?"

He looked from JR to me, but didn’t answer.

"Was this your idea or JR’s?"

"His," Kevin answered, his voice tinged with a hint of disgust.

"I guess ‘want’ is the wrong word. Would you rather do this than me tell Mr. Honeywell?"

He looked at me again.

"How you gonna whip me?"

Straight to the heart of the matter.

"How’s your dad whip you?"

"A belt."

"You ever get it on your bare butt?"

He looked at JR and blushed a bit. He still had some tan to his complexion, but it made his acne stand out a bit. After a second, he looked back at me, and his head made a brief jerk that I took as a nod.

"I think that’ll do, then."

His whole body shrugged with disgust, but he didn’t move or argue.

Or answer.

"Well?"

He looked confused for a second.

"Oh, ummm… yeah, if you whip me, you ain’t gonna tell my dad or his dad or nobody?"

"Nope."

"And I can still come play?"

"Yup."

He sighed, then nodded.

"Yeah, okay."

I walked over and opened the door to the computer section, then motioned for him to precede me. JR followed right behind him.

"Where are you going?" I asked, placing my hand in the center of his chest.

He just motioned into the computer room like I was stupid.

"And what makes you think you get to watch?"

"You’re gonna whip him with a belt, right?"

"Yes," I answered, not seeing any reason to deny it.

"Well, what’re ya gonna use?" he smirked.

I looked down at the brown, braided leather belt I was wearing. It looked good with my khaki pants and dark green polo, but I didn’t think it would be especially effective at giving a whipping. Then I looked over at Kevin. His black leather belt looked good with his camo pants and Marilyn Manson t-shirt, but I thought those little metal studs might make it too effective. Then I looked back at JR. He lifted the huge Nike t-shirt he was wearing, exposing his pale, firm belly, the waistband of a pair of white boxers, with the tops of Crayola crayons showing over his baggy jeans, which were held up by a plain black leather belt.

I looked back to see Kevin watching our discussion. I might have been projecting, but I read the look on his face as ‘Why the f*** are you helping, dude?’

"Do you want him in here?" I asked Kevin.

"Not especially," he answered honestly.

"Just give me the belt," I said, turning back to JR.

"My pants’ll fall down."

"Then you can wait out here and hold them up."

"What’ll I tell somebody if they go to the bathroom or something?"

"Bathroom’s down that hall, so I doubt that’s a problem. Now, this was your idea, so unless you want to be in here next to him, give me the belt."

JR muttered something about how unfair I was, but he was removing his belt as he did it, so I ignored him. He had had a point though. As soon as the belt was undone, his jeans started sliding down his almost non-existent hips.

I leaned forward while JR was doing that.

"Anyway, this is going to be embarrassing enough for him without you watching."

"I’ve seen him naked before," JR protested.

Interesting, but…

"Not the point, JR. I want to make a point here, but you’re not helping. Why don’t you stick your nose on the wall and think about that while we’re busy?"

"Why don’t I not?" he returned as he handed me the belt and grabbed for his pants, which had cleared his hips and picked up speed as they headed ankle ward.

I took the belt and closed the door in his face, clicking the lock, just in case.

Kevin was watching me, clearly not happy to see that belt in my hand as I looked at him, but he was obviously trying to hang on to some dignity.

I grabbed a chair and pulled it from its desk.

"C’mere and drop ‘em," I instructed him.

I wasn’t watching him when I said it, but could feel him moving behind me. He stepped up to the chair and leaned forward.

He looked like a plumber.

"I said drop them, Kevin."

He turned around and did that popular teenage dance step, which I’ve always thought of as the ‘Oh, Man!’ He took a deep breath, then clenched his eyes shut, tossed his head to the side, then rolled it back, before bringing it forward again, opening his eyes to glare at me, and releasing the breath in a huge, body shaking sigh.

He waited a second to see if the ‘Oh, Man!’ had worked.

I stood, obviously unaffected.

When the second had passed, he reached for his fly, making me realize that he’d undone his belt and unbuttoned his pants, but hadn’t even unzipped them. The zipper came down, letting his pants fall a bit, then he grabbed those and his boxers both and shoved them to his knees. Then he turned around, lifting his t-shirt as he went, and bent over the chair.

His butt was nicely shaped, but the dimples were too pronounced, almost making it look like two cantaloupe halves sitting on a table – on it, but not part of it. After a second, he relaxed a bit. The dimples were still distinct, but it made his cheeks look a bit less like they didn’t belong to him.

"Is this how your dad whips you?" I asked.

He’d taken an almost perfect position. He was leaning across the back of the chair, holding on to the front chair legs. His feet were spread a bit (enough to hold his pants at his knees anyway). My only complaint was that his legs were too far back, so he was definitely leaning forward to reach the chair.

"No."

He paused after answering, and I would have let it go, but after a second, he went on.

"He makes me lie down on my chair, like across it."

"Would you rather do that?"

"No."

"Then step up just a bit."

I tapped his heels with my toe as I said it, and he inched his feet up a bit. His legs weren’t straight up and down, but good enough for the occasion. Besides, I realized having a bit of a slope might make it easier for me, since I was using a belt.

I doubled the belt up, evening the tip with the buckle, and making sure both were in my hand. Kevin’s body shook, and I looked down to see him looking back at me. I pointed forward, and his head reluctantly crept around to watch the wall. After a second, his neck loosened, and he was staring at the seat of the chair.

I could probably count the number of times I’d whipped a boy with a belt on my fingers and have enough left to play rock-scissors-paper. I wasn’t going to argue or discuss the implement, because Kevin had brought this deal to me (at least it has been brokered in his name). Still, I was a bit hesitant about it.

I started to swing the belt through the air, but stopped. I remembered Ralph standing there while I bared myself . He held the belt doubled up in both hands, letting it go slack, then pulling it taut, making the leather snap together. I could recall how that sound made me shiver, and even start to cry from it, before the whipping even started.

I took a few steps from Kevin and swung the belt through the air, making sure I had a good feel for it, for how it would swing and how hard it might hit.

The belt whistled through the air, and I heard a moan. I looked over to see Kevin watching me again. When he realized I saw him, he looked forward again without me even having to point.

After a moment’s thought, I swung the belt again, this time popping it against my leg. It hurt, and would hurt a loss worse on his tender, bare butt, but I was pretty sure I had a good idea how hard to swing it.

I’d been watching Kevin as I finished my experiment. He hadn’t looked back again, but I’d seen his entire body shiver when the pop echoed through the room.

The boy must have seen my shadow, or maybe just sensed my movement, because his entire body went tense as I stepped back to him.

"Relax, Kevin."

Saying that wasn’t very helpful.

"I’m not going to start until you relax."

Still no result.

"And I don’t have all night to stand here, so if you don’t relax a little, we’ll just tell…"

I didn’t have to complete the threat. You wouldn’t confuse him for mellow, but I could see a lot of the tension go out of his body.

"Ready?"

"Yeah."

POP!

The belt cracked down against his butt. Despite my inexperience, he was giving me a good angle, and I was able to land the swat almost exactly where I wanted it.

Kevin had ridden the swat forward a bit, and I caught a glimpse of shadow that must have been his dick swinging with the motion. I stepped back a bit, but couldn’t get the angle to see. I didn’t want to be too obvious, so I stepped back into position.

A red stripe had formed just below where his crack started. It angled just a bit downwards as it crossed his cheek. I mimicked the swing, then straightened my elbow just a touch before making the next swing for real.

Kevin’s hips rode forward a bit, but the position he was in didn’t leave him much freedom for motion. He’d taken the first swat silently. The second time, there was a quiet noise, like I’d surprised a gasp out of him, but it was barely audible over the sound of the belt cracking against his butt.

This time, I watched the show in back instead of trying to see in front. Kevin rode up on his tiptoes, clenching his legs and butt tight for a minute; then he wiggled around just a bit, before going back to the same basic position he’d started in. After a second, his butt went from ultra-clench mode to like it had been, and I lined up for a third stripe.

This time there was a definite grunt of pain. I waited while he went through the same little ritual, and watched a third red stripe rise, this time right above where his bottom started to slope into this legs. Then I spoke to him.

"It’s ridiculous that I should be having to punish you, Kevin, especially like this. You’re not a dumb kid, so you should have realized how stupid your behavior was the first time I mentioned it to you."

"Stupid?" he protested.

"Yes, stupid," I assured him.

The belt snapped down again, back at the top of his butt.

"You are fourteen years old," I reminded him.

CRACK.

"Ow," he complained.

"Smoking is illegal for boys your age.

CRACK.

"OW."

"And you’re standing right in front of my store…"

CRACK.

"OW!"

"…where the police turn around on the beat, right where they can see you."

CRACK.

"Oo-ho-ow," he yelped again, and the first sobs were starting to break his voice.

"And I’d call that stupid."

"But those are just campus cops," he said, trying to defend himself.

"They’re stationed on the campus, Kevin, but they’re still real police, and they can give you tickets and take you home to your parents, or to the police station and make your parents come get you."

"I… I didn’t know that."

CRACK.

"O-ho-ow!" he cried, and this time he definitely sobbed a bit as the swat caught him, not just by surprise, but on those extra special spots right at the flex of the leg.

"Now you do. I tried to tell you that before, but you just didn’t want to listen. Now do you understand how stupid your behavior was?"

"Yes, sir."

"And even if the cops don’t bother me about you standing in front of my store, this is still a family store. Do you think it does my business good for my customers to see a kid hanging around here, smoking cigarettes?"

"No, sir."

I leaned forward and ran my left hand across his buttocks, enjoying the rough, hot feel of them. His cheeks were still hairless, and, as he felt my hand on them, they began to relax a bit.

"So has your behavior been stupid?"

"Yes, sir," he admitted in a resigned voice.

"Has it been rude to me and my customers?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are we ever going to have to have a talk like this again?"

"No, sir," he assured me, much more forcefully.

"Then you can stand up."

Kevin climbed carefully to his feet, then he turned around to face me, but didn’t make a move to get dressed. I had the feeling he was used to getting whipped and used to post spanking lectures. Not only did he stand there, still bare, but his hands were clenched at his sides. His eyes were red and damp, and a few tears were rolling down his cheeks, and his hands trembled with the urge to rub his butt, but he just stood there, looking towards me, but not quite at me.

His t-shirt had been up around his underarms, and had fallen some when he stood, but it had folded around itself, and the lower half of his belly was uncovered. His pubic hair was thick, but still confined to just that lowest arch of his belly, and only beginning to curl around to grow between his legs.

Despite the lack of a lot of hair, Kevin was pretty well hung. He was soft enough to hang straight down, but he looked to be slightly more than four inches – enough to fill my hand with a little still sticking out. It made me wonder if he was a shower or a grower. The thing that really caught my attention, though, was that he was uncircumcised. While not being circumcised was more common now than when I was a kid, it was still most common in the boys I knew who were either minorities or not from the U.S. It looked very good on Kevin, especially since he’d grown long enough that the very tip of the head stuck out of his foreskin. His sac was big enough that, even at his length, the head was nestled between his balls, and it made for a very pretty (and enticing) picture.

I took a mental snapshot to explore and enjoy later, then quickly looked back at his eyes, returning to business.

"I’m not your dad, and I’m not a cop. I will tell you that smoking isn’t good for you, and that’s not counting how expensive it is. You really, really should try to stop, but that’s all the lecture I’m going to give you on it, okay?"

He nodded.

"If you absolutely have to smoke while you’re here, go around to the back parking lot or something, so you’re not standing in front of the cops or blowing smoke in my customers’ faces, okay?"

He nodded again.

"I’m glad we understand each other. Do I whip harder than your dad?"

He didn’t think about it.

"About as hard, but Dad whips a lot longer."

"Keep that in mind, because if I catch you smoking up here again, unless it’s in the back lot, like I just said, I’m talking to your dad."

He blanched, but nodded his understanding.

"Then you can get dressed."

I think he’d been acting like he normally would. Now he realized how exposed he was, and his blanch shifted quickly to blush. He grabbed for his pants.

"Kevin?"

He stopped with his boxers partway up his thigh and looked at me.

"It is okay if you rub your butt first."

He looked really embarrassed, pulled his boxers up enough to cover his dick, then reached behind and rubbed some of the sting out. His eyes went partway closed while he rubbed, and he looked like a cat getting his ears scratched.



After enjoying a few seconds of Kevin rubbing some of the sting out, I pointed him to the employee bathroom so he could wash up. Then I took the belt and stepped out into the hall.

JR stood across from the doorway. He wasn’t standing close enough to have been listening and he didn’t look guilty, so I didn’t say anything about it.

When the door opened, he looked over at me. It was kind of cute. He was trying to give me a disgusted look, but it was rather defeated by the fact that his jeans had slid down to just about crotch level in front, and below his butt in back, only kept from going further by his left hand holding a belt loop.

I stepped out, pulling the door shut a bit, but not completely.

"Would you really have wanted to watch Kevin getting whipped, JR?"

I’m not sure why I asked. To embarrass him maybe, or was I just hoping to find a fellow spanko?

"I guess not," he answered after a few seconds’ thought.

"You wouldn’t want someone else watching you get it, would you?"

"No," he answered much more quickly.

I handed his belt to him. He pushed away from the wall and reached for it. As he did, his hand came away from his pants, and they made a dash towards the floor. He grabbed them again. Watching him try to hold his pants up while getting the belt through the loops was entertaining, and before he finished, Kevin had come out to join us.

"You okay?" JR asked.

I looked back to see Kevin nod.

"I’ll live. He whips about as hard as Dad, but not as long."

"Worth it then," JR suggested.

Kevin shrugged.

"I disqualified Kevin since I was going to kick him out, but if you two want to play, I’ll count it towards your total. Don’t take too long, though."

"Okay," the both agreed.

"Good. I’m going to go see how Mitch is doing.



Before he left that night, Kevin apologized to me.

"I just hadn’t thought about the cops or it bugging your customers or nothing," he assured me.

"Well, you’ve paid for that now, but you really should think about things like that from now on. As long as you don’t do it again, we’re cool."

"You may be cool," he answered with a rueful smile, "I’m still pretty hot right now."

I had to laugh. JR, who was standing close enough to hear, just shook his head.





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