Magical Spankings: JR in Play Trouble

I’ve talked before about what a blessing Magic: the Gathering was. From a gamer’s perspective, it was a fairly quick game that could be carried almost anywhere. From a business perspective, it couldn’t have been timed better. The comic explosion of the early nineties peaked in Dec ‘92 with the Death of Superman, plateaued for a year or so, then started a gradual decline that became a roller coaster plunge. Magic came along in mid ‘93 and brought in a whole new clientele (and source of income). From a business perspective, I loved the new income, but from a personal perspective, I sure enjoyed meeting a lot of the new clientele.

I first met JR in late ‘96 or early ‘97. He actually didn’t stand at in my mind at all at that time. A lot of that was because, while JR wasn’t a bad looking kid, he came in with a friend, and Brandon was beautiful.

Both boys were twelve and in seventh grade, but Brandon was almost definitely in a very early stage of puberty. He stood right at five feet tall and had a lean, thin build. He wasn’t soft, but had the look of a swimmer or tennis player – toned, but not ripped. He had golden blond hair that he wore slightly long, so it brushed the top of his ears and collar, and which he parted in the middle, though it often fell onto his forehead. His features were fine, with medium thick, but very red lips, and a straight nose, with a button tip. His eyes were a green that was nowhere close to hazel or blue. While he wore loose fitting pants, they weren’t really baggy and he didn’t sag. Combined with the long shirts he wore, I was never even sure if he wore boxers or briefs. Despite that, I had the occasional chance to see him leaning forward or bending over, and I knew he had a rear end that I would have loved to appreciate with less padding.

The only bad thing about him was that he was a brat.

Maybe brat is too strong a term. It’s not like he threw fits or caused trouble. He just wasn’t friendly. I liked his looks and tried a number of times to talk to him. He was willing to talk about Magic, and he did talk to JR, but he never wanted to talk about anything else.

I suppose it’s possible I was doing him a disservice and he was really just shy, but he came across as cold – only intermittently friendly – and with a bit of an attitude.

JR and Brandon came in several times in a row for a month or six weeks, I think. Then they stopped. Brandon came in once or twice by himself, then they were both gone.

That happens a lot in Magic. Kids get involved and enjoy playing at home so they come to the tournaments. The trouble is, there are many different skill levels at the tournaments, and there are strict rules to be enforced. If you’re fairly good, playing at a tournament can be fun. If you never win, it can start to seem like you’re just coughing up an entry fee to pay for prizes for other people and can get depressing. I’ve tried a lot of things over the years to eliminate that problem, but the truth is, someone is going to win, and Magic is a game of skill and planning, with only a hint of luck involved. That makes it hard for mediocre players to have much of a chance.

I did see JR again after that, and it was like I could suddenly appreciate him for himself. I’d always liked JR better than Brandon, but on his return trip, he just seemed cuter to me. I don’t know if that’s because Brandon was overshadowing him or if he’d been in one of those awkward adolescent phases that hid his better assets.

JR was a friendly kid. He’d always liked to talk to me. He’d joined in on the conversations I’d started with Brandon about Magic, but he’d also admitted (with almost no embarrassment) that his parents whipped him.

I think part of my later reaction to Brandon was because of JR’s feelings towards him. The two of them had gravitated together because they’d enjoyed Magic, but it was JR who first suggested to me that Brandon was a real brat. I think ‘spoiled’ was the word he used most.

If Brandon had ever been spanked, he wasn’t by the time he was in seventh grade. That would be no big deal, except that, according to JR, he seemed to take a certain glee in provoking trouble when he visited JR. JR didn’t mind a bit of teasing about the fact that his parents still whipped him. His father was a minister and had very firm ideas of his parental duties, and his mom seemed to be the stricter of the two in some ways. JR knew that being a ‘PK’ (preacher’s kid) made him a bit unusual, and he lived with that.

From what he told me, Brandon’s teasing and provocation went too far and ended their friendship. JR wouldn’t go into the details, but the two of them got into trouble one evening at JR’s house. It resulted in Brandon’s parents being called, Brandon being sent home, and JR being escorted to his room to ‘get ready for bed’ and get his butt whipped. The end of the friendship came the next day when Brandon called, bragged about the fact that his dad talked to him and sent him to his room, then started teasing JR about getting whipped. JR said he hung up the phone and never talked to Brandon again.

(I’ve always wondered if Brandon was a spanko, but if so, he wasn’t a very tactful one.)

Over the next year or so, JR would pop up occasionally. I could always expect to see him when a new set was released. He usually looked through the samples I had out, talked to me about them, and bought a few packs. I saw his parents around his birthday and Christmas, when they usually bought a box for him, showing that he was still interested. On other occasions, he’d show up for a tournament. Sometimes he’d drop in after we’d started, visit for a while, and play a few pick-up games before leaving. Other times, he’d be there for the tournament. Sometimes he’d be there one day, then I wouldn’t see him again for a few weeks. Other times, he’d be there several weeks in a row.

If I’m being honest, I have to admit that I probably tried to discuss spanking with every kid with whom I came in contact, at least if I had a chance to do it. I tried not to make my interest too obvious. I tried not to embarrass them. If there was any kid whom I got to know, I was going to bring the subject up. I usually did it (moderately) subtly. Instead of just saying ‘Do you get spanked? Did you?’, I would drop the word in conversations and see how they reacted, or reference it in regard to some minor misbehavior they’d committed. To that extent, JR wasn’t anything special or unusual, except maybe for his complete lack of shyness about it. On the other hand, JR seemed very… not shy about most things.

While I enjoyed him as a customer and a Magic player, he reached another plateau with me in about May of 1998. He’d done something he’d done before and disappeared for a few months – I’d not seen him since February. Three months was a bit longer than normal, but wouldn’t have been horrible, except for what had happened the last time I’d seen him.

I think JR might have been losing a bit of interest in the game until he made some new friends to whom he taught it. With people of his own skill level with whom he could regularly play, he became much more interested. He’d come up to the store looking for a few particular cards, but unable to buy them. He’d been trying to trade with some of the other kids at the store, but couldn’t make a deal. I had what he was looking for in my private collection, so I’d traded with him. He didn’t have a great trade stock either, so the trade ended up with him owing me a couple of cards he promised to bring the next week. The next week stretched to over two months before I saw him again.



"Hey, Jack," JR said, sounding honestly happy to see me.

Despite his long absence, I was happy to see him as well and greeted him in return. It didn’t take long for me to bring the conversation around, though.

"Don’t you still owe me a couple of cards?"

Despite the fact that JR had proven very hard to embarrass, he blushed a bit at that reminder.

"Oh, yeah," he admitted sheepishly.

"Do you have them with you."

"Just one of them. I couldn’t find the other."

"Well, I guess you owe me a card then, and I owe you a spanking, right?"

He looked up at me, wide-eyed, for a second, then grimaced slightly and looked away. Despite the fact that there were other kids all around, I was talking quietly, and no one seemed to be paying us any attention. After a second, he shrugged and looked back at me.

"Yeah," he agreed.

He got the card he owed me that he did have and gave it over to me, then we left the game room.

At that point, the upstairs area of the store was completely different than it is now. There were two game rooms, my office, an area where our computer work was done, and a storage room. My office wasn’t especially big at the time, so I led him to the computer area, which was much bigger, and where no one worked on Sunday.

"Now, I remember you told me you don’t get spanked on your pants, didn’t you?"

JR was doing a good job of looking more and more sheepish, but he admitted it.

"Well?" I asked, pointing as his jeans.

He might have been a bit embarrassed by the situation, but he certainly wasn’t shy. He undid his belt and fly, and gave his jeans a downward shove. He wasn’t a sagger, but they were loose enough that they hit his ankles as soon as he released them.

"I can’t remember. Did you say you got spanked on your bare butt?"

He didn’t even hesitate this time as he nodded. His boxers didn’t hit his ankles, but he lowered them in back, tucking the waistband under the lower swell, where his buttocks sloped back to merge with his legs. That left him mostly covered, but lowered the front so that I could see some pubic hair.

I think JR had a spring birthday, so he would have recently turned fourteen at that point, or been almost there. He certainly made an interesting picture at that point. So interesting that I couldn’t help but stop and stare a second.

JR was not cute and not handsome, but that’s not to say he was bad looking either. I suppose you’d have to say he was just average. Part of JR’s trouble was that he had fair skin, mousy blond hair (yeah, I know the term is mousy brown, but his hair was lighter than that) that he could not get to stay in place. I’m sure that worked out for him a couple of years later when the ‘bed head’ look became popular, but it was a bit distracting. His eyes were a hazel, but weren’t really greenish or brownish… I just can‘t think of a better term for them. On top of that, he had gold metallic frame glasses that didn’t really work with his skin tone and silver braces. Like I said, there was nothing wrong with his looks, but he could really have used a bit of coordination.

On the other hand, he did tend to grow on me after a while. I think that might have been as much because he was always his own person, as much as anything else. And despite a few spots of acne, his rather outré color choices, and the fact that he wasn’t ever going to be model material, there was certainly nothing wrong with his face.

And if there was nothing wrong with his face, there was certainly something right with his body, especially as he got older. JR was always on the short side – not tiny, just an inch or two less than what one might expect from his age. Still, despite his height and the fact that he didn’t play any sports to my knowledge, he still had a lean, solid, firm build. It turned out that he wasn’t really into competition but loved doing solo stuff, from light weight workouts to running and biking. He wasn’t bulky, but even in his mid teens, he was well toned and solid, while still lean.

And then there was that patch of pubic hair. He wasn’t holding his t-shirt up, but it was short enough that it just brushed the top of his hips, giving me a pretty good look. The hair was about the same shade as atop his head, giving it a very nondescript look. It was still just an arch at the bottom of his belly, not yet climbing towards his navel, but was thick enough you couldn’t see skin below it. Looking down towards his jeans, I realized that that little patch might have been his only body hair so far, since his legs still looked smooth and bare.

I only stood there a moment, and JR had stood there just as quietly. I don’t know if he was letting me appreciate the view, delaying the spanking, or just didn’t know what to say. I think only a few seconds passed, though, before I pulled a chair from a desk, turned it and sat down.

"Over here," I told him, gesturing across my legs.

"Over you lap?" he said, as much as asked, half in protest.

"How does your dad do it?"

"Over the side of my bed."

"Belt?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I’d planned to just use my hand, but if you’d rather bend over a chair, I’m wearing a belt…"

I was starting to stand and reach towards my waist as I said it.

"No, no, no!" JR rushed to assure me. "Lap is fine."

He was laying himself over my legs almost faster than I could sit back down.

JR’s bottom was just as delightful as I’d expected. The dimples were a bit too deep to call it perfect, but the cheeks gracefully arched out from his lower back, then made a quick, distinct drop back to his legs. His cheeks came close together, but they still separated into two distinct mounds that dropped into a valley, rather than looking like one round hill. I ran my hand over the left cheek and found it just as hairless as I’d expected.

The only problem was that his boxers had ridden up as he lay down, so they covered the very lowest part of each cheek, hiding where the bottom became leg, so I slipped my hands under the waistband, and shoved them down a few inches more.

"Hey," JR protested at being further bared, yet he lifted himself up a bit at the same time, as if by instinct (or by very thorough training).

Again I ran my hand down the length of the left cheek, then the right. I paused at the upper leg, as my hand brushed against his boxers, to give each thigh a few pats, not quite hard enough to be called spanks. As my hand lightly teased his butt, I began to lecture.

"JR, your father is a minister, so I’m sure you’ve heard ‘let your word be your bond.’ Some people seem to think that it’s wrong to swear or promise, and when you mean what you say, you’re supposed to say, ‘I give my word,’ instead. That’s wrong.

"What comes out of your mouth when you talk? I continued."

"Words…?" he hazarded.

"Not just words, but your words. And that’s what it means… Let your word be your bond. Don’t say something if you don’t mean it. Understand?"

"Yeah," he said, and I could almost hear a light bulb come on as he said it.

My hand stopped petting and landed a sharp but not incredibly hard smack in the center of his right cheek.

He took it quietly.

"Did you tell me you were going to bring me those cards the next week?"

"Yeah," he admitted.

Smack – left cheek this time.

"Did you do it?"

"No."

Smack – right cheek again, a bit higher.

"Did you do it the week after that?"

"No."

Smack – left cheek again.

"Did you ever bring me both cards?"

"No."

Smack on the right. Smack again on the left. Back and forth again, and his entire bottom was getting rosy. He was taking all the swats stoically, though – not yelping or squirming.

"And when you did finally bring one of them, I had to ask. Do you think that’s a good way to do a trade?"

"No, sir," he said, and his voice finally held a quaver, but I wondered it if was because of his sore bottom or because of the lecture.

"Do you think that’s a good way to get me to trust you at all?" I asked, without another smack in between.

"No, sir," he said again, and this time he sounded really sad.

My hand pistoned down, again and again, back and forth. The swats weren’t any harder than I’d been giving, but I landed about twelve smacks in half as many seconds, and he finally squirmed a bit, though he was still quiet. His bottom was definitely a dark, rosy color now.

I ran my hand over each cheek again, then patted him on the upper leg. I adjusted my hand a bit, so the slope from his bottom to his legs was covered.

"Do you understand that it’s not a good idea to say you’ll do something if you’re not pretty sure you’re going to do it?"

"Yes, sir," he answered, and his voice held the first hint of tears.

SMACK.

My hand came up and down exactly where it had been resting, harder than the other smacks had been. It wasn’t especially hard for a real spanking, but it was the first smack that wasn’t almost playful in intensity, if not purpose.

He made a small sound that might have been a quiet ouch or a grunt escaping clenched jaws.

"Are you going to try to avoid doing that from now on?" I asked as my hand came to rest on the same spot, but on his right leg.

"Yes, sir," he said tensely, bracing for the expected spank.

I didn’t disappoint him.

He was too tense to jerk with that swat, but I still felt just a slight vibration go through him. Then I rubbed his bottom for a second.

"Good," I finally said. "I think I’ve made my point. Now I can spank you in place of the card you didn’t bring."

"WHAT?!?" he protested, and squirmed around to look back over his shoulder at me.

"Just kidding," I assured him.

Matching actions to words, I reached down to put my hand on his chest and helped him up.

He bent as he came up and grabbed for his boxers as soon as he could take his hands from my legs, so I didn’t get to see anything else up front. However, he stopped with the boxers not all the way up, gave his bare cheeks a quick rub, and gave me a rueful look.

"You could have just told me that," he chastised me.

"True," I answered, "but you could have just brought me the card."

He smiled at the point and shook his head.

While he wasn’t watching, my eyes flicked down. His rubbing had pushed the boxers back down just a bit. It didn’t expose much, but I did catch a quick glimpse of the very root of his cock, which looked fairly wide. Not wanting to be caught staring, my eyes flicked back up, and I was looking in his eyes when he looked back at me.

"Can I get dressed now?"

"Don’t you think you need some more spanking?"

"No," he assured me, smiling.

I sighed.

"Then I guess you can get dressed."

JR might not have seemed shy at all, but he certainly did seem happy to be getting his clothes back in order. Or maybe he wasn’t sure how serious I was about the additional spankings, and thought more padding was a great idea.







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