Barrett Bares It 4

It was a quiet Thursday morning. Most of my kids were at camp. The older boys who hadn’t gone were mostly at work, and PJ was in his apartment. Van was staying at Granny’s house for a few days, to make sure he had time to spoil properly, which left me with just Ryan.

Ryan had hosted a gathering of his role-playing buddies the previous day. They’d spent several hours in the pool, we’d grilled burgers, and they’d concluded the day with a marathon gaming session. As a matter of fact, when I’d awoken about 4:30, when I normally wake to check the boys, I’d found them still up and going, and had chased them all to bed, using the excuse that Ryan had rehearsal the next day, so needed to get some sleep.

When I got back from grocery shopping, I went in and woke the herd. There was some grumbling and griping, since it was only about six hours after I’d sent them to bed, but they’ve all been around enough to know that my household runs on a fairly early schedule, even, maybe especially, in the summer.

As soon as I was sure they were all still alive, I popped some biscuits in the oven and started scrambling eggs. After a few minutes, various boxer-clad boys started drifting in. Tim is just too darned hyper not to awaken quickly, but most of the boys were shuffling at least a bit. I watched while most of them poured juice, and smiled sympathetically while Joss begged for a cup of coffee. I have to admit to a little disappointment that they were all in boxers; even KC, who generally prefers briefs, wears them on these nights, but it was still nice, and several of the boys are still young-looking enough to be definitely cute.

Chuck Goodman came over while the boys were still eating breakfast. Like most boys his age, I’m sure he would have said he was hungry even if he’d just finished eating before he came over. He fixed a plate, and the boys made room for him to squeeze in at the breakfast nook.

Beyond the work he’d done for me last week, Chuck has been coming over every day this week to help care for the pets. He enjoys playing with them, especially the labs, and will usually swim for a while when he’s finished. As part of his payment for that work, I’d promised to take him to the mall.

When the older boys heard that, they thought it was a great idea. Not all of the boys were able to join us. KC, for instance, had promised to do some yard work that day, and Gene had an orthodontist appointment, but Ryan, Cam, Barrett, Tim, Joss, and Jason Taylor all joined us.



Things at the mall started great. We stopped at the Great American Cookie, so I could make sure all the kids had a sugar buzz. Joss, Jason, and Cam all have cell phones, so I made sure I had their numbers and they had mine; then we broke up.

Chuck and I were having a good time. He’s a real pleasure to shop for, since he’s not used to being able to get much. Mostly we went to get him a pair of swim trunks. I think he must be having a growth spurt, since the trunks his mom bought him just a couple of months ago are already a little snug. I found him a pair of Daniel’s old shorts that fit pretty well, but he needed at least one more pair, since he’s at our house almost every day. He fell in love with this ridiculously loud pair and a Hawaiian-style shirt that matched it. He protested when I threw a pair of flip-flops he’d been looking at on the stack, but he’s a hard worker, and I don’t mind paying bonuses.

We’d finished our shopping and were just browsing around—the pet store, the bookstore, the sports memorabilia shop—when my phone rang.

"Hey, Joss," I answered, after checking the caller I.D.

"Hey, Jack. Umm… we’ve kind of got a problem?"

"Someone hurt?"

"No."

"Okay, where are you?"

I got directions, then Chuck and I headed that way.

Joss had said they were in the middle of the mall, downstairs, by the kiddie play zone. I think the problem mainly arose from his definition of ‘by’.

I would say that it’s because of his bright red, nearly orange, hair that I can spot Ryan so quickly, but the honest truth is, it must be a parental thing, because I can almost always pick any of my kids out of a crowd very quickly. For whatever reason, I saw Ryan and four of the boys as soon as we came around the corner. Joss was holding the phone in his hands and gesturing, and it looked like the other boys were arguing about something. I did a quick head count, just to make sure I wasn’t missing someone, then did a slower one and came up short one Bear. I stopped for a second, which was about as long as it took for my eye to catch the sick-looking blond boy being chewed out by a security guard.

"Is there a problem, sir?" I asked the guard as I approached them. Chuck, apparently wanting to keep some distance between himself and trouble, headed for the other boys.

"Is this yours?" he asked in reply.

"He," I said, stressing the proper pronoun, "is with me, yes."

"Well, you need to work on his reading skills. Do you see that sign?"

I have to admit that I have a lot more patience with kids than with adults, but I instinctively glanced in the direction he pointed, even while taking a firm grip on my temper.

The sign I examined said, "You may not enter this area unless you are under this height or are accompanied by someone who is." The height marker was set about four feet.

"And he was in there?"

"Yes," the security guard answered in a tone that suggested I was a moron for even asking.

"I don’t know what he was doing to start, but he was playing around on that train," he said, pointing again to a kid-sized, plastic train. "When I saw him, I started over that way. I guess he saw me coming. I don’t know if I just startled him or if he was trying to get away, but it looked like he slipped off it and bumped into a little kid."

"Was anyone hurt?"

"No," he answered.

"Okay, well I’ll get him out of here then."

"Now listen…."

I’d started to turn away, taking Barrett by the arm, but turned back now. Apparently the security cop decided it wasn’t worth an argument because he cut off in mid-sentence.

"Don’t worry about it," I assured him, trying to behave and not cause a scene. "I’ll make sure he understands that this was wrong and not to do it again."

With that, we left.

The other boys had been watching, but hadn’t been close enough to listen. All of them (except Chuck) were obviously nervous as I approached them.

"Time to go, guys. Car’s that way."

None of them had anything to say. Not to me, at least, though I did hear a bit of muttering behind me. When I turned, all the noise stopped, and they marched past me quietly. And it really was very close to a march. I’m sure that anyone even glancing at them would know someone was in trouble.

I walked beside them, not knowing quite what to say. I didn’t want to get onto Barrett in public and wasn’t really positive I should get onto him. The guard said he’d bumped into a little kid, but the kid hadn’t been there, nor had any medics, so I’m guessing that no one was hurt. And I’m fairly positive the guard would have mentioned if the little one had been more than upset.

I actually think my quiet was only serving to upset the boys more, so I tried to make small talk as we passed through the food court. No one else seemed to really be in the mood for it, so I finally let it dropped as we looked for the SUV. When we got there, I got inside, opened the door, turned it on, and started the air conditioner, then got back out. The boys were climbing in, but I stopped Barrett. He got sympathetic looks, especially from Ryan and Tim. As soon as everyone else had climbed in, I turned to him.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"Ummm…" he replied, making me wonder if he was going to try lying or was just organizing his thoughts.

"I climbed over the fence. I just thought it’d be funny," he added, just a bit upset at how it’d turned out. "I didn’t mean to hurt anybody."

"Was the kid hurt?"

"I don’t think so. I didn’t even knock her down, and she didn’t cry or anything."

I nodded. "Why did you climb the fence instead of going in through the gate?"

He turned bright red, but didn’t try to deny anything.

"Because I wasn’t supposed to be in there."

"So you knew you shouldn’t be there and went anyway?"

He nodded jerkily, and probably felt he was passing sentence on himself.

"And you just saw the train and thought it’d be funny?"

He looked away from me before nodding. It was pretty obvious he was lying. I only had to think for a second to decide it didn’t matter. The only thing about which he seemed to be lying was why he’d done it, and since he’d been with a group of other boys, I could make a guess at it without too much trouble. The only real question I had was what to do about it. It didn’t take too much thought to decide that if he wasn’t going to tell me that he’d been ‘encouraged’ to do it, that I shouldn’t make a big deal about it. Before I could decide on anything else, he took the issue out of my hands.

"Are you gonna call my dad?"

"You’re staying at his place right now?"

He nodded.

"I know you meant this as a joke, Bear, but do you think your dad would take it that way?"

He looked at me for a minute, then shook his head. He looked down at the ground, then back up at me.

"Please don’t call him, Jack."

"What am I supposed to do with you, Barrett? Didn’t you know this wasn’t a good idea? Did you think about why they limit who goes in there?"

He shrugged, shook his head, then shrugged again, studying his shoes all the time. I was quiet for a minute; then he looked back up at me.

"Are you gonna spank me?"

"I’m thinking about it. I just haven’t made up my mind."

He blushed a bit and looked away again. I watched him for a minute before shrugging myself.

"Get in the car. I’m not going to decide yet."



The car was quiet as I pulled out of the mall parking lot. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I noticed everyone was shooting questioning looks at Barrett, but he seemed to be in his own world for the moment.

There was some quiet communication going on, but it seemed to consist more of nudges and looks than actual words, and I couldn’t pay close enough attention to decode it. In the long run, it didn’t matter, since someone finally decided to speak up.

"Dad…?" Ryan said.

"Yeah?" I replied in as neutral a tone as I could manage.

Quiet reigned again, but this time for only a few seconds before Joss spoke up.

"We dared him to do it, Jack."

"You did, huh?"

"Yeah," Joss said again. "I guess it was all of us."

I glanced into my rearview mirror in time to see Tim wince. I could understand that; not only is he the only one of that group who seems to still be spanked on anything like a regular basis, I think he might have been the one I spanked most recently, except probably Cam. It made sense for him to be the most nervous, and even a quick glance revealed that he was awaiting my eruption with awe and dread. Of course, Chuck was the only one I’ve spanked in the last several months, but he was fairly calm about it, since he wasn’t in trouble this time.

I almost hated to disappoint him.

"I’m going to tell you guys the same thing I told Barrett. Chuck, I know you weren’t involved, by the way, and I’m sorry you’re getting stuck with the lecture. However, did any of you think about why older kids aren’t allowed in there?"

I usually jump on the highway for a few minutes going to and from the mall, and was just pulling up to a traffic light. As soon as I stopped, I looked back at them. No one was looking at me, but everyone was shaking their heads."

"Did you all see the whole thing?"

Same reaction, but nods this time. I turned around, and waited quietly until the light changed. Only when we were going again did I continue.

"I have no idea how strong those plastic climby toys are, but I’m willing to bet they aren’t cheap. I’d say all of you, especially Barrett, are lucky nothing got broke. But you know how you’re even luckier?"

"’Cause that little girl didn’t get hurt?" Jason suggested.

"That’s right. I’d say you’re very lucky about that. I guess you guys thought it’d be funny…."

"We were making a video," Cam supplied, holding up the phone with which he’d been playing.

"Okay, so you were showing off and hoping to impress somebody."

Pulling up to a stop sign, I looked back over my shoulder again, remembering how hard it actually is to give good lecture in a moving car.

"I can understand that, guys. I really can. My sense of humor might not be exactly like yours, but I do enjoy pulling a good prank and liked it more when I was your age. However, there are reasons for most rules, and you’ve got to learn to think about what those reasons are before you do stuff. I’m not going to tell you that there aren’t some rules that you can’t break. God knows I drive above the speed limit sometimes, but I also think about where I’m doing it, and I sure don’t do it in a school zone."

I turned back around and started driving again.

"The problem is, you guys didn’t think at all. Not only was there a good reason for the rule to be there, which was to protect the toys from people who are too big for them and to protect the little kids from people not paying attention; but there are not only security guards in the mall, but also there were parents all over. That means there was no way you were going to get away with it."

"I don’t want to tell you guys it’s okay to do something if you don’t get caught. I hope you all know that’s not true. The thing is, there are some things you know are wrong no matter when or where you do them, whether you get caught or not; right?"

There were a lot of assents, then a few suggestions. "Like stealing." "Or doing drugs." "Or hitting your little sister."

I thought about debating that last one, but didn’t want to get sidetracked.

"Right, like those. There are also things that are okay to do anytime, anyplace, and you don’t have to worry about getting caught."

"And then," I continued without a pause, "there are things that are iffy. I’m sure none of you are going to start picking your nose in the cafeteria because people would make fun of you."

"And you wouldn’t speed if there was a cop car right in front of you," Ryan added.

"Exactly. There’s nothing wrong with playing on a toy or making a video, but if you’d thought just a bit, you would have known this wasn’t a good idea. And let’s be honest—if you’d thought it was really okay, you would have gone in the front gate; right?"

Another round of mumbled assents. Then dead quiet.

Tim finally broke it to ask, "Are we in trouble?"

"I’m not happy with any of you right now. Encouraging someone to do something you know is wrong is still wrong. On the other hand, there’s only one of you who actually did it, so he’s the one in most of the trouble.

Like the first hint of dawn, I could sense Barrett’s blush without even looking over my shoulder.



After we were home, I sent Chuck to Noah’s bedroom to try on his new clothes and get ready to go swimming. The other boys I lined up against the wall by my office door.

Six boys nervously faced me, as I slowly examined each one of them. Every boy there had been over my lap crying at least once, and none of them could meet my gaze as I looked at them. All of them were blushing and studying their shoes.

"Barrett, go on in my office, please."

He nodded and stepped in. As soon as he was gone, I addressed the other boys.

"I think I’ve already said enough. Does anyone here not understand why I’m a little upset with you right now?"

I waited a minute, but no one spoke up.

"I’m not going to say that you guys are equally as guilty as the one who did it. I am going to say that I expect you to show better judgment. I like and respect all of you, and even though I can understand why you did it, I’m still disappointed in all of you."

Joss looked up at me right then and tears were standing in his eyes. None of the rest of the boys would even look at me, but I saw a tear sliding down Ryan’s cheek.

"Barrett is the one who actually did it, so most of the punishment is his. It’s not any of your business what’s going to happen to him," I added when Tim opened his mouth, "but I’m sure you can all make a good guess."

"Still, none of you are entirely innocent, so I think you can stand here and think about what might be happening to him, and how lucky you are not to be sharing it, and remembering that you’re all getting off lucky since no real damage was done. Understand me?"

All five boys nodded.

"Okay, I want your noses against the wall. No talking or moving until I let you go."

I waited a second, then gestured towards the wall.

"Jack?" Tim addressed me, more shy and hesitant than I’d ever heard him.

"Yes?"

"I gotta piss."

I shook my head but let him go. As soon as he was gone, Jason took off in the other direction. I stuck my head into the office, but Barrett didn’t need to go.

A few moments later, with those five boys facing the wall, I went into my office, shutting the door behind me.



Barrett was standing by the spanking chair when I walked in. He didn’t look at me as I walked over and took a seat.

"Are you going to spank me?" he finally asked when I looked up at him.

"Yes, I am. Unless you’d rather me call your dad?"

He shook his head.

"Do you understand why I think you need a spanking, Barrett?"

"’Cause I did something stupid, and so we’ll all," he said, jerking his head towards where the other boys awaited, "learn a lesson."

"That’s pretty much true, except what you did was thoughtless and impulsive, not stupid. Do you think it’s unfair that you’re going to get spanked so they learn a lesson?"

He thought a moment before answering. "I guess not. I’m the one that did it."

"Okay, get your shirt up and come here."

He started to raise his shirt, then stopped.

"Can I do it myself?"

"You mean undress yourself?"

He nodded.

I thought about it, but only a second. I enjoy doing it, but this was a pretty borderline punishment, and I saw no reason to make it worse than it had to be for the boy.

"Go ahead."

Barrett looked at me for a second, blushing, then looked away and toed off his sneakers. The green polo he was wearing wasn’t especially long and only covered the top inch or two of his green and white checked shorts. He reached under the shirt to undo his fly. Barrett wears his clothes properly, but the shorts were still loose enough that they fell to his ankles almost as soon as he had them unfastened.

Barrett kicked the shorts off, and my eyes followed them as they landed on top of his sneakers. When I looked back at him, he was very deliberately looking away from me as he slid his fingers into the waistband of his boxers.

"Barrett," I said, making a sudden decision.

He jumped a bit, but his fingers paused with the boxers only an inch or so down, then he looked at me.

"It’s been a while since I’ve had to spank you; hasn’t it?"

"Yes, sir," he replied. "Last summer?"

"Maybe. How long’s it been since you’ve been spanked at home?"

"I dunno. Dad had to spank me a few months ago… maybe March? I don’t guess Mom’s spanked me since I was in seventh."

"I am disappointed in how you acted, Bear, but do you think a spanking’s really what you need right now?"

The boy looked into my eyes for a minute, then looked away. His left hand slipped away from his boxers, and he started to chew on the edge of his thumb. The quiet stretched a minute, then two. I was just about to tell him to get dressed when he finally answered me.

"I knew what I was doing was wrong. I didn’t think about why, but that’s why you’re upset with us. We were playing around like little kids, so I guess," his voice cracked, and he paused just a second before finishing. "I guess a spanking’s what I deserve."

He looked at me another minute, then nodded. I nodded back, and he reached back down and shoved his boxers to his ankles, then kicked them off.

As quickly as he was bare, Barrett moved to put himself across my lap. Then he stopped. His shirt wasn’t long enough to cover much, and it had been a while since I’d seen him, and he’d grown. His balls were a decent size for an early teen, but his sac had never stretched much, and they still hung close to his crotch. His penis, though still pretty light, if no longer white and pink, looked a good four inches, even though he was soft. On the other hand, it wasn’t especially thick, though no longer boyishly thin. The thin band of dark blond, almost sandy brown, pubic hair was still constrained to the lowest part of his belly, though it was fairly thick, and beginning to look like a real patch, rather than just a line.

I was lifting my arm to let him into position and trying not to stare when he stopped.

"Do you need to get a paddle?"

"No," I replied quickly, having already decided. "I think I can make enough impression on you this time without one."

Ryan and Barrett are both about the same size, actually a little shorter and much lighter than Noah. Barrett, however, isn’t as active as Ryan. He’s far from fat, not even really plump, but he does carry an extra pound or two. When he’s dressed, it’s almost impossible to see the difference because it’s spread so well. The real difference is, where Ryan is hard and angular, Barrett is soft and curved. That was especially true of his bottom, which was only mildly dimpled, even with him tensing.

I rested my hand against his bottom and was about to start, when he said, "Jack…"

"Yes?"

He was quiet, but shifted around a bit before he reached behind him, handing me his glasses. I took them and set them on the desk behind me, then rested my hand against his bottom again.

Barrett was still tense, but since I was only using my hand (and since his bottom is rather plush), I didn’t bother getting him to relax, but went right to work. My hand circled around his bottom, trying to spread the swats, while also trying to get every bit of the surface. I worked from hip to hip, and from the upper most curve towards his back, down to the lowest summit, while placing the occasional swat on his thighs. Only when his entire bottom was glowing rose did I move down and start to pay some real attention to his legs.

Barrett had taken the first part of his spanking rather well, lying still, and only occasionally responding with a jerk of his body or hiss of indrawn breath. When I started really working on those thighs, though, he started to really respond.

I wasn’t just swatting the back of his legs, but was making sure to get the insides and outsides of his thighs as well. By the time his legs were as rosy as his bottom, he was squirming quite a bit, kicking his legs, and not only yelping with almost every swat, but had had a couple of sobs shaken loose.

When I went back to work on his bottom again, a little harder this time, quickly turning it a true red, his control slipped, and the sobs came almost constantly, quickly turning to cries. He was kicking and squirming, and I could see his shoulders moving as he pushed against the floor. His feet were kicking almost constantly now, though they were small, quick shakes of the leg, not like he was trying to kick his feet up and cover his bottom. Still, despite the fact that he was moving constantly, he wasn’t actually fighting me as if he were trying to escape.

By the time I was satisfied with his backside, he was crying pretty constantly, though not especially hard or loud. I’d meant to do his legs a second time, but had already decided this was as much symbolic as anything. Instead, I reached around his waist a bit more and pushed up on his belly, jackknifing him a bit more, and stretching the skin at the sit spots just a bit. Four fast, hard swats fell on each sit spot, making him howl just a bit, then I stopped.

It only took a second for Barrett to realize the spanking was over, and he collapsed over my leg. As he lay there crying, though not sobbing much, I gently rubbed his bottom. It was only a handful of seconds before I felt his right hand come up to rest on my knee. I reached down and helped him to sit up.

Barrett winced a bit as his rear came to rest on my leg, but he quickly leaned forward and rested his head against my shoulder. I let him cry a few minutes, then pushed gently on his back.

"Corner time," I told him.

He sniffed and nodded, then carefully forced himself up. Barrett’s not nearly so shy as he once was, and especially not right after a spanking, but he still waited until he was turned away from me to lift his shirt. As soon as he was in the corner, I stepped out into the hall.

The other boys were right where I left them, though Jason twitched when he heard me behind him.

"Jason, do you need a trip over my lap?" I asked, taking a guess at what he’d been doing.

"No, sir. It just itched so bad."

"I’ll let it pass, but remember that still means just that."

"Yes, sir."



I made Barrett do the full fifteen minutes in the corner, then let him dress and sent him to my bathroom to clean up before letting the other guys move away from the wall, which meant they’d been there nearly thirty minutes. Even though I’d let them keep their hands at their side, they were all flexing their feet, stretching, and scratching when I finally let them turn around. All of them seemed happy when I sent them to the living room, and all had quickly found seats. When Barrett rejoined us, on the other hand, he seemed more than happy to remain standing.

"Okay guys, no more lectures, but I did want to say one thing. What happened today wasn’t a big thing, but it could have been, and that’s what I hope you all really take away from this. I might have been justified in punishing all of you much more than this, but I just want you to have something to think about, not to get mad about. And," I added after a moment’s pause, "I hope that all of you, even Barrett, will agree that you did get off pretty light."

The five guys who’d just done a half-hour with nose to the wall nodded, though with at least a hint of reluctance, but they also all turned to look at Barrett.

"Well," the blond boy replied, blushing deeply and reaching behind him to rub, "I guess it wasn’t too bad…"

The other boys were still staring at him.

"I mean, it could have been a lot worse…"

They still stared, and Jason made a small, sarcastic noise.

"I’ll tell you what then. Why don’t you let Jack spank you with Red while we listen, and we’ll see how much noise you make?"

Jason’s brownish, well-tanned skin suddenly went a bit white as his eyes went wide. He glanced at me nervously, then back at Barrett. "Well, sure, it wasn’t too bad. Comparatively, I mean."

"Now that look," I said, pointing at Jason, "is something you really need a video of."

Jason’s dark skin keeps his blushes from being as obvious as Barrett’s, but I was glad that Barrett got the last laugh.







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