Spank Bingo: Brandon and Matt

"All right, that was the tardy bell. Get your seats and quiet down, we have a test tomorrow… And that’s enough groaning. There are very good reasons we’re having a test tomorrow."

There really hadn’t been that many groans, and the kids knew I was joking, but I’d had some complaints and wanted to explain things to them.

"Really, folks, I give all these tests for your own good. I don’t mind groaning, but I’d better not hear anyone calling me a liar," I said with a smile.

"First of all, you get out of school early Wednesday and have four days off for Thanksgiving. Most of you’ll be lucky to remember your name by the time you get back. Second, most of the stuff we’re learning right now builds on the stuff before. I can’t teach you to add fractions if you don’t know how to find the common denominator. So I test you on the common denominator to see if we’re all ready for adding fractions. Yes, Danny, I know you weren’t, but we do the best we can."

The rest of the kids laughed, since they all knew Danny was pretty much the best student in the class.

"But seriously, look at this," I told them, as I picked up some chalk and wrote the figures on the board as I explained it. "Your semester grade is based twenty-five percent on your final. The other seventy-five percent comes equally from each of the six weeks, meaning each of them is also worth twenty-five percent."

"Now, each six weeks grade is based two-thirds off daily work and one-third off homework. Since the six weeks grade is one-fourth the total, and the tests are one-third of that, that means that the tests for each six weeks are worth one-twelfth of your final grade, or a little over eight points. (I realize I was probably confusing them, but we were working on fractions, so I was trying to show them a real world use for them, without beating them over the head with it.) If I only give one test, that means that test is worth eight percent of your final grade. If I give three or four, that means each test is only worth two or three percent, so if you have one bad test, it’s not such a big deal."

"Anyway," I said, with the argument that I knew would get them, "if I give you the test this week, you won’t have any homework over Thanksgiving. Now, who wants to take the test next week?"

It was so quiet, there should have been crickets chirping.

"Now, I’m going to hand back the reviews you turned in Friday. I want you all to look over them. I corrected everything, so you can study from this tonight, but if you made a mistake, make sure you know why you got it wrong. I’m going to give you all a little time to look over this, then we’ll do some review. If we get through in time, I’ll give you some free time; but for now, I want everyone quiet and studying."

I’d been handing the reviews back as I finished speaking and now had only two left. I came up to Brandon Fischer and Matt Altman, who were long time best friends, with the last two papers.

"I want to see you boys in the hall, please."



It had been obvious that Matt and Brandon had been friends the minute they walked into my classroom. I’d had to call them down a couple of times the first week or two. They’d settled down after I’d offered them the choice of being separated or paddled. They were both pretty good students and nice kids, so I’d given them one more chance that they (mostly) hadn’t abused.

Both of them were a little bigger than average for sixth grade—maybe five feet or just a hint over. Brandon was actually just a bit taller than Matt, but then he’d turned twelve just after school started, while Matt wouldn’t be twelve for a couple more months. Both boys were also lean, though with Brandon, it seemed to be a natural thing, and he was almost skinny, while Matt had a firmer, more athletic figure.

I’ve said before that I find almost all boys cute, but Brandon tried hard to be an exception. His face was long, with a chin that was mostly an afterthought. He had a high forehead that would have been helped by longer hair than the barely grown out burr he kept, and the light brown color was totally nondescript. His nose was long and narrow, and it looked like you could cut cheese with it. He did have a nice smile, but his only really good feature was beautiful, dark blue eyes that were worth staring into for a while.

Matt, on the other hand, was one of the cuter boys I had in class that year. He had dark brown hair and honey brown eyes. He wore glasses with a round silver frame that suited his face. His features were even and well-put together, but not outstanding, except for a slightly pouty lower lip that gave him a winning smile and an effective serious look, and a slight, almost Oriental slant to his eyes that gave him a hint of the exotic.



Even though they didn’t sit at the front of the class, they were nearly as embarrassed to be pulled out as they were worried about why they were being pulled out. I didn’t keep them in suspense long. Standing where I could see most of the class, I handed their papers back to them.

"When two students miss the same question, I don’t usually think anything about it. When two students miss four questions—the same four questions—I figure it’s just a coincidence. When two students both miss something, like problem seven, because they divide six by three and get three, I start to think there’s something more than coincidence going on. Would one of you like to tell me what happened?"

There was a long moment’s awkward silence. The two boys were studying the carpet with an intensity I only wish they’d bring to math. Finally Matt glanced at his friend, then at me. "I didn’t finish mine, so I copied off Brandon."

"What, you stole his paper?"

"No," Brandon replied for the other boy, "he asked if he could see it."

"Did you know why he wanted to see your homework?"

Brandon shrugged, but then nodded.

"Okay, guys. Thanks for being honest about it; but I’m afraid I’m going to have to give you a zero on the paper and a paddling, and I’m going to send a note home for your parents."

"No, Mr. Wells, please don’t!"

I was surprised by Matt’s reaction.

"Why shouldn’t I?"

He turned red, then looked at Brandon again before turning back to me. "Because Brandon’s parents…."

"Don’t!" Brandon said, grabbing Matt’s arm.

On the one hand, I didn’t care what ‘Brandon’s parents…’ might do. On the other hand, the way they were acting, Matt might be trying to tell me about an abusive situation, in which case it was my duty to pursue the matter.

"Brandon, go stand over there at the corner, please."

Brandon was definitely unhappy and made sure we both knew it as he stomped away, but he did go.

"All right, Matt, did you have something to tell me?"

Matt was staring at the floor and flinched when I spoke. After a minute, he looked over at me, then at Brandon, who was leaning against the wall, keeping busy by trying to sulk and glare daggers at us at the same time. Matt looked back down and finally said, "Yes, sir."

"His parents…. Do you know what a switch is?"

"Yes," I assured him.

"Well, Brandon’s parents are pretty strict. Most of the time when we do something minor…."

"Who’s we?" I interrupted him.

"He suddenly went red. "Well, me and Brandon have been best friends forever. We live on the same block and spend a lot of time at each other’s house. Brandon’s got two little brothers—Ryan’s in fifth grade, but Nick’s just in first. Anyway, if I’m over there and any of us, me too, do something minor, like not mind right away, his mom has these big sandals, and she’ll grab our arm and give us a pop or two. It stings, but it’s not too bad."

He took a deep breath, looked over at Brandon, then went on.

"But if Brand does something serious, he has to wait for his dad to get home. Then he’s gotta go to his room, take off all his clothes, and go pick a switch. Then he brings it back to the living room and everybody’s there. His mom and dad chew him out, then he has to lay down on this stool, and he gets it. It’s really bad, Mr. Wells."

"And I suppose you know that because he’s told you?"

"No, well, yeah, we’ve talked about it, but I’ve seen him get it a couple of times and seen Ryan get it too. Nick doesn’t get the switch yet, I guess."

"So you don’t want me to send notes home because you don’t want Brandon to get switched?"

"Yes, sir," he said, glad that I understood.

"And I guess you get switched too?"

The boy suddenly looked confused. "No, sir. My dad just spanks me."

"With what?"

"Just his hand," he answered, not looking any less perplexed.

"And he makes you take all your clothes off?"

"No!" he replied, beginning to get indignant. "Just on my jeans."

I looked at him for a minute and was beginning to believe that he was telling the truth, both about what happened and about his motivations. I thought about it for a minute, then gestured for Brandon to join us.

"I don’t have time to deal with this any more right now. I don’t want to delay the test until Wednesday, and we have to get some review done. Can you two come by here after school today?"

They looked at each other, both worried, but glad that I seemed to be offering at least a delay. They shrugged at each other, then Brandon turned to me.

"We walk home. We can stop for a while."



That afternoon, when the last bell rang, my class rushed out. I followed at a slightly more leisurely pace, standing at the door. The idea was, my presence in the hall would keep the little animals from going too crazy. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t, and sometimes….

"Joseph Herring!"

The boy I’d yelled at came to a screeching halt and looked at me. I pointed to the floor in front of me. He was doing a credible, but not award winning, job of looking both sheepish and cowed as he made his way over to me. He’d been looking at his feet, but looked up at me when he came close.

"Hi, Mr. Wells."

"Hello, Joe," I answered, pretending to ignore the other boys who’d been with him, who’d just moved around the corner and were now peeking back at us.

"I’m just curious, Joe, but isn’t there a rule about running in the hall?"

"Yes, sir. We’re not supposed to."

"Mmmm. Have you been paddled yet this year?"

"Nope!" he assured me proudly.

"Your dad have to spank you recently?"

"Not real recently," he replied, after a moment’s thought.

"You wanna keep it that way, buddy?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Okay, get outta here, but you and your pals keep it to a walk until you’re outside. Okay?"

"Okay. Thanks."

"See you, Joe."

It only took a few minutes for most of the rush to clear away. I was about to step back inside when Brandon and Matt came up, managing to look like hounds belly crawling to an irate master. I invited them inside and closed the door behind us, crossing over to my desk, and gesturing for them to follow me.

"Brandon, I don’t know how much Matt told you, but I have a couple of questions to ask you. I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with you two, so I want you to answer honestly; all right?"

He nodded.

"How do your parents spank you?"

He blushed a bit and seemed a bit taken aback by my directness, but answered, "Mom has this shoe thing she uses to give us swats. Mostly that’s all. If Dad’s home, he might do it to, but he takes us to our room. He just uses his hand, but he makes us pull down our pants and shorts."

I’d only thought he was blushing before, but he was bright red now.

"Is that all?"

Brandon shot another couple of daggers at Matt, but then looked back to me. "Yeah, unless we get in really bad trouble, then we gotta get the switch."

It took a few minutes, but I managed to drag the story out of the boy, and it mostly matched up with what Matt had told me. It seemed believable, at least. Brandon also admitted to having been spanked by Matt’s dad a few times and confirmed what Matt had told me about that.

By the time he was finished, I’d already made my decision. I’d really made it hours ago, but that was conditional on confirming what Matt had told me.

"Brandon, do you realize that letting someone cheat off of you is still cheating?"

"Yes, sir," he said in a strangled, worried voice.

"And do you realize that as long as your parents aren’t abusing you, it’s not my business how they punish you, or even IF they’re going to punish you. My business is to enforce the school rules. Understand?"

Brandon nodded again, looking sick. Matt was starting to look indignant, apparently for his friend’s sake.

"All right, I’m glad we have that straight. Matt, here’s the letter I’m sending home to your parents. Read it aloud, please."

Matt was not happy with me, but he picked up the paper I pushed across to him, looked at it for a minute, then started to read.



Mr. or Mrs. Altman, I regret to inform you that Matt has been caught cheating in my math class. He apparently didn’t do the math review, so borrowed another student’s sheet, then copied it.

Matt will be receiving a zero on that homework, and it’s also standard policy to paddle a student in this situation, which I will do tomorrow, with your permission.

My main worry is that this was a review for a test tomorrow, and that he might not be ready. A secondary concern is that Matt seems to have trouble completing homework assignments, and I feel he might need more supervision.

Thank you for your time in this manner. If you have further questions, you can contact me….



Matt looked up at me at that point. "You’re not going to tell them I copied off Brandon?"

"Matt, Brandon, both of you: what Brandon did was wrong, but he did his work. He let you cheat, but it’s hard to tell your best friend no. I think what you did was more wrong, and I’m more worried about you, since I know he did the review and did pretty well on it. I can also understand his parents’ view, but I hate to think about him getting switched because he was trying to help you. Are you willing to live with me sending a note home to your parents, but not his?"

"Yes, sir. Thanks, Mr. Wells."

"Yeah, Mr. Wells," Brandon echoed. "Thanks."

"Don’t thank me yet, Brandon. You can do that in a few minutes. I said I wasn’t going to send a note home, not that I was letting you off. Empty your back pockets please, and untuck your shirt. Matt, go over to the cabinet and bring the Number Two paddle."

Both boys looked at me in shock for a moment but then slowly started to comply. I watched while Brandon pulled a wallet, a comb(?—with his hair!), and some papers from his back pocket, then pulled his shirt free from the pants, as I stood and walked around the desk, in time for Matt to hand me the paddle.

I’d actually planned on using the Number Three paddle, but the boy wasn’t very well filled out, and he was only wearing slacks, not jeans. Neither of these things, by themselves, would have dissuaded me, but together, I figured I should take it a little easy on him.

With just the two boys there, I took a little time getting Brandon down into exactly the right position. I gave his rear a pat to ‘make sure the back pockets were empty’, then lined the paddle up. His slacks were light enough that I could actually see the leg band of his briefs, which gave me the perfect spot to line up. I aimed there - planning it as my last stroke, then raised my aim enough to place two more above it. When I was all lined up, I pulled my arm back.

I have to give it to him, Brandon took it pretty well. When the first swat landed, I didn’t hear anything. His only reaction was that his body went tense for a moment. Matt, on the other hand, winced at the pop.

After a second, I lined up again, slightly below the first pop, where there’d be about an inch of overlap with the three inch paddle. It cracked down again. This time, it wasn’t hard to hear a gasp, then a little panting, while I watched his rear end tense and relax a few times, before he pushed himself back into place.

The third, last swat, was the one that was going to burn his sit spots, and I waited just an extra second, so he’d be caught a little off guard. This time he couldn’t prevent a slight groan before he gasped for air. Poor Matt nearly jumped out of his skin when the last swat landed.

I left Brandon over the desk for a minute, watching what little cheeks he had clench and unclench, before telling him he could get up. His beautiful blue eyes were slightly damp, but only slightly. He’d taken it really well. I set the paddle on the desk, then turned to Matt, watching out of the corner of my eyes as Brandon gave his bottom a brisk rub, then undid his belt and fly to tuck the shirt back in. Since I wasn’t coaching right then, the sight of his ‘genuine, Jockey y-fronts’ certainly caught my attention, but I still made myself focus on Matt.

"Don’t forget to study tonight, both of you. And Matt, don’t forget that letter, either. If you don’t bring it back tomorrow—signed—I’ll paddle you, then call your parents. Understand me?"

"Yes, sir," he replied miserably. After all, I’d made it pretty clear that the only reason Brandon had been paddled was for trying to help his friend. But, now that Brandon’s punishment was over, Matt had his own to anticipate.



I got to my room at the regular time the next morning, about 7:45. I’d finally given in and bought a backpack, so I didn’t have to juggle too much stuff. It was only a couple of minutes later when Matt walked in. He was looking very worried as he crossed the floor to my desk.

"Everything go okay last night?" I asked the boy.

He shrugged, started to nod, then just shrugged again.

"I had to stay in all day. Mom checked my homework when I was through with it, then I had to study for the math test after dinner. I didn’t even get to watch TV," he said in a tone that wasn’t quite accusatory.

"Doesn’t sound like a lot of fun. I hate to beat a dead horse, Matt, but yesterday could have been a lot better for you and for Brandon if you’d just done your homework. And it’s going to get worse this morning."

The poor kid’s face fell. "Please, Mr. Wells. Do you have to paddle me? I swear I learned my lesson."

I avoided the question for now, since I didn’t want to disappoint the kid right away. "You said you spent the whole time after school studying. Did your dad not spank you?"

Matt blushed a bit before answering. "I was beginning to think he wasn’t going to. He came in and reviewed the math stuff with me a little, then told me to go get my bath. It was kinda early, but I figgered he was gonna make me go to bed early. When I was finished, he came back into my room and sat down and talked with me about cheating and doing my homework and stuff. Then he made me get up and he spanked me on my pajamas." By the time he finished that, he was tearing up a little bit.

"Pajamas aren’t nearly as much protection as jeans, are they?"

"No, sir. It hurt pretty bad, and I cried loud. And…."

He suddenly went still and was looking at me, judging me for something, before he finally went on.

"Dad said that he believes boys need spankings sometimes for a lot of reasons, but that when he was a kid, my grandpa used to whup his bare butt with a belt, and it hurt really bad, and it was really embarrassing, so he’s never done me that way. But he.…"

He looked at me again and was obviously distressed.

"It’s okay, Matt. It’s just me and you, and I promise I won’t say anything to anyone."

He looked at me for a second, then looked away. I could see his throat work up and down as he tried to swallow, before he finally said, "Dad said that if I ever do anything like this again, he’s gonna whup me like Grandpa used to do him."

"I hope he never has to do that, Matt. Are you gonna be okay?"

He needed a second, but finally looked back to me and nodded. "He was really disappointed in me, Mr. Wells."

"I’m sorry about that, Matt. I wish none of this had ever happened, but do you understand why your parents needed to know?"

He wouldn’t look at me, but shrugged, then finally nodded. We stood silent for a second before he finally got back to the original question. "You’re still gonna paddle me, aren’t you?"

Yeah, kid, I’m still going to paddle you. But can I justify it to you? I don’t know? Do I care? I’m not sure. Can I justify it to myself? Maybe, and I do care about that.

"Matt," I said finally, leaning back against my desk, which brought us slightly closer to the same eye level, "do you think I was wrong to paddle Brandon yesterday?"

"No," he said after a moment’s thought. "I wish you hadn’t. He was only trying to help me out. But I guess he knew I was going to copy, so he was letting me cheat."

"That’s kind of what I thought. Do you think that what he did was worse than what you did?"

"Huh? No! He was just trying to help me. What I did was worse."

"Once again, I agree. So, if what you did was worse, and I paddled him, why do you think I should let you off?"

He stared at me for a minute, hating that I’d driven him—tricked him—into a corner, but having to admit, even to himself, that I was right.

"I’ll go get the paddle. Number Two?"

I’d planned on giving him five swats, but just couldn’t bring myself to do it now. "I gave Brandon three swats, so I think you should get the same. I’m sorry you were spanked last night, Matt; but I think your paddling needs to be worse than Brandon’s. Get Number Three." After all, Matt was wearing jeans and had a bit more natural paddling than Brandon did. It seemed fair. To me at least. Given the way the boy’s shoulders slumped, I’m not positive he agreed with me. He didn’t argue though.

Matt was looking severely hangdog when he came back, but he emptied his pockets without having to be told, then assumed the position he’d watched Brandon take the previous day.

I should have paddled them at the same time but separately. Matt was obviously stressed out by having to wait, and I’m sure getting a spanking from his dad hadn’t made things better. Seeing no use in more lecture, I flipped the back of his t-shirt up, took just a second to admire the blue lines of his Fruit of the Looms, then aimed and let the first swat land.

Let’s just say that Matt didn’t take his paddling as well as Brandon had. I guess I should have expected that. One boy was used to, at least occasional, bare bottom switchings, while the other had apparently never had his pants down for a spanking. Matt yelped with the first swat, and it took several seconds to get him back into position. With the second swat, he yelped loudly, and started to sob, actually standing and turning to face me.

"Please, Mr. Wells," he choked out, tears already running down his face. "I’ve learned my lesson. I swear I’ll never do it again. That’s enough. Please!"

"I’m sorry, too, Matt. But I think you need at least as many as Brandon got. Get back over."

He started to really cry as he obeyed me, and I felt like a real ass. I waited until he was back in position, then lined up the third swat, lifting it so it wouldn’t touch his legs at all, though that meant a bit more overlap on his rear. Not wanting to drag things out anymore, I lifted the paddle and let it fall.

Matt howled and jumped up, grabbing his bottom and turning to face me.

"It’s okay, Matt. It’s over now."

He didn’t appear to believe me, and I read as much anger as fear in his eyes. I reached out to rest my hand on his shoulder, but he flinched away from me. I was quickly growing as upset as he was, so I just pushed some Kleenex towards him, then turned to put the paddle away.

When I turned back, Matt had himself under a bit more control. I didn’t say anything, but went back to my desk and sat down, starting to unpack my bag and get ready for first period. After a long moment’s silence, Matt finally spoke, his voice no longer choked with tears, but still full of emotion.

"Can I go now?"

"Go ahead," I replied simply, not understanding why I felt so bad. I’d had boys respond badly to paddlings before and couldn’t understand why Matt’s reactions bothered me so much. Maybe it was as simple as I’d gone out of my way to take it easy on him and his friend, and didn’t feel like I’d been well repaid. Maybe I actually liked the kid and just felt bad that he was mad at me. It’s easy enough, from an adult perspective, to forget how badly spankings can really hurt, but the fear and anticipation is often worse when the punishment’s delayed. Maybe Matt just didn’t have the experience to deal with that and was taking it out on me. Whatever the problem was, I dug my Coke out and took a deep swig of carbonated life, and began to prepare for the day.



I almost always devoted a full class period to tests and was able to grade the tests as they were handed in to me. Once all the tests were in, I let the students talk quietly among themselves while I finished grading, and then I passed the papers back so they could see how they’d done. Despite the problems we’d had, I’d been happy to see that Brandon made a 95 and Matt had scored perfect. The bell rang and the kids left, so I bent down to get the next class’s file and was startled by a voice I didn’t recognize.

"Mr. Wells?"

I nearly jumped out of my chair and was surprised to see Matt standing there. He’d not talked to me at all during class, except for a mumble that might have been ‘thanks’ when I handed the tests back. I hadn’t recognized his voice because its usual energy and confidence was missing.

"Matt?"

"I just wanted to tell you I was really sorry for being such a wuss this morning. I know I deserved the paddling and I probably deserved more than you gave me. Even if Brandon knew he shouldn’t a done it, it was still really all my fault. It’s just… I never got paddled before and… I was scared."

"It’s okay to be scared, Matt. All of us are scared sometimes, especially when we have to do something like that. I should have paddled you yesterday after school instead of making you wait."

He snorted in reply. "That woulda been nice. I didn’t sleep much last night."

"Well, I’m sorry about that. We cool?"

He tilted his head to look at me, then stuck out his hand. "Yeah, we cool."

"Good," I told him, shaking his hand. "Then get to class. You don’t want to be tardy today."

"No way!"



So, 21 November and not one, but two boys added—and one of those boys gives me so many boxes. Still, I’d already decided that each boy could only count for one box, so…. Would you believe I nearly screamed when I got home that night and realized that I didn’t have a box for ‘Dad/Pants/Hand’? Oh well, while Brandon did offer several choices—witnesses, Dad/Bare/Switch—I went with Naked, since it gave me such a great position.

Oh, and I didn’t have any more trouble with Brandon or Matt after that.







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