Cal and Zack: Skipping Into Trouble

It was a beautiful day; sunny and warm, without quite being hot yet. I was moving with the top down, but driving very carefully, both because I was on residential streets and because I was in a bad mood and didn’t want to be too aggressive.

It was just after 10am on a Wednesday. I should have been at the comic warehouse helping with the new shipment, which already had me in a not good mood, since our delivery had been late. I was helping break down the orders for each store when my cell phone began to ring. I was not happy at the news and not happy with having to head home to deal with it.

When I walked into the house, the alarm was still on, just as it should have been, but I was positive I’d not left it in beep mode, which rings a chime when someone comes in or out. With that as a guide, I walked over to the door going down to the game room and theater and wedged a door under the handle. Then I went upstairs.

The room Caleb shares with his best friend Zack Franklin was empty, but there were two shirts, which I was almost sure they’d worn to school that day, lying on Zack’s bed, and two pair of sneakers on the floor.

Back downstairs, the handle to the cellar door was wiggling and bumping but wouldn’t open.

"Step away from the door for a second. Stop pushing," I called, loudly enough to be heard through the door.

When the movement stopped, I removed the chair, then opened the door to find Zack and Cal standing on the other side. Zack, who is normally moderately dark complected, looked pale. Cal, who is fair skinned, looked rather green.

"My office. Now."



The two boys weren’t sure what to make of the situation. There was no doubt in their minds that they were in big trouble, but they didn’t know how much. The fact that I was sitting in my desk chair, not the spanking chair, might have made them feel a little more secure. The fact that I had the two of them standing in front of me, almost at attention, probably made sure they weren’t relaxing much.

The two boys looked great standing together since they’re almost total opposites of each other. Cal seems like he might be finished growing, but at 6’2", I don’t think he needs to feel too bad about it. I’m sure he has put on a bit of weight this year, mainly through the chest, and he’s probably up to just under two hundred pounds now. Of course, he’s still fair skinned with dark blond or light brown hair and medium blue eyes. As he’s gotten older, his round cheeks have sunken a bit, but he still has the same long nose and sharp chin. He’d just got his summer cut, and his short hair barely brushed the top of his ears right then. While he’s still not what you’d call hairy, he now has a definite happy trail climbing up above the waistband of his Joe Boxers.

On the other hand, Zack has a complexion that tans easily and always looks just a bit dark. He has dark brown hair and eyes. Zack still seems to be growing a bit. It seems like he’s just a bit shorter than me, so he’s probably up to 5’9", though I doubt he’s more than 145 pounds yet. Zack looks so much like his dad, with the same round cheeks, the same slightly dimpled chin, and the same generous mouth. The biggest difference between the two of them is that Zack has a small, straight, button nose that comes from his mom’s side. While Cal isn’t especially hairy, Zack is smooth. He just turned sixteen last month but still only shaves about once a month. He has a few stray hairs on his lower legs and not much more under his arms. Despite his size, he could easily pass for a boy a year or two younger than himself.

As I sat and watched them, the silence began to work on their nerves, and they started to fidget. Finally Cal broke.

"Dad…."

"What do you expect me to do with you?" I interrupted.

Both of them looked down, suddenly not as willing to talk.

"Let me put it a different way then. What happens to boys that break the law?"

Suddenly Zack looked as sick as Caleb had. He’d never been switched, but he had seen a switching, and he knew just as well as Caleb what earned one.

"Dad, please…."

"You know the answer, Cal, and you know I consider breaking truancy laws just as serious as shoplifting or smoking."

I went quiet and just stared. They both fidgeted, hands moving from place to place, feet shifting, and finally Zack answered, "If you break the law, you get switched."

"Do you guys have any excuse for doing this? I could have half-understood it if you were out by the pool or something, but skipping school so you could sneak extra video game time? That’s a really lame reason to get yourself into this much trouble, isn’t it?"

Zack just fidgeted and wouldn’t even look at me. Cal eventually shrugged.

"Where’s your driver’s license, Cal?"

"In my wallet."

"Your car keys?"

He patted his front pocket.

"Hand them here. You’re not going to be doing any driving for a while."

Cal grumpily dug into his back pocket, and opened his wallet. As he did that, I turned my attention to Zack.

"Go ahead and get your clothes off, Zachary."

A small whimper might have escaped the boy when I confirmed the worst, but he reached down and started to unhook his belt.

"Why aren’t you taking his driver’s license?" Cal complained, drawing an irritated glare from his friend.

"Because you don’t get spanked anymore. Zack does."

"That’s not fair!"

"It’s not?"

"No!" the taller boy complained. I could tell he was trying hard not to whine but wasn’t doing a great job of it.

"Caleb James, I am extremely upset and disappointed with you. I’ve been really proud of how well you’ve been doing for a long time now. Since last summer, I’ve hardly had to get on you about your chores at all. You’ve been helpful with your little brothers. You’ve done a great job on keeping your schoolwork done. And then you go and blow it like this."

I knew I was coming down hard on the boy, and his face showed he was feeling it. I felt a little bad but knew I needed to make my point.

"I mean, you have less than five weeks left until summer, then you’ll have all the free time you’d like. Instead, you skip."

I was quiet for a second and seriously considered not saying what was about to come out of my mouth.

"Did you ever think that if you really didn’t want to go to school today, you could have just asked me to let you stay home?"

"No," he answered instantly.

I couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t something I did often and had never let him do because I didn’t feel he could spare the time away. However, he hadn’t been sick all year, and he’d been doing such a great job, I probably would have considered it.

"Anyway," he snapped after a minute, "even if you let me, you wouldn’t have let both of us."

"That’s true," I admitted. "Zack hasn’t been doing as well in school as you have this year. On the other hand, if you hadn’t skipped, he wouldn’t be about to get his butt worn out."

From the corner of my eyes, I saw Zack flinch as he stepped out of his pants. He knew what was coming and took off his socks as well, leaving him standing there only in his boxers. He took a deep breath, sighed, and slipped his fingers into the waistband, but I held up a hand to stop him. Cal and I had both seen him naked plenty of times over the years, but I didn’t see any reason to leave him standing around naked and probably embarrassed until we had this finished. (Well, besides the fact that he’s just cute.)



Cal argued. He pleaded. He begged and cajoled. By the end, tears of frustration pooling in his eyes, he realized he only had one choice if he really wanted to change my mind—but still wasn‘t ready to choose it.

"Why won’t you tell me how long?"

"Because I don’t know how long, Caleb. I’m very upset with you, and I’m mad that I had to leave work on my busiest day to come find you. I know what Zack’s getting because I’ve done this before with other kids. I’m not going to decide for how long you’re losing your license until I’ve had a chance to calm down and think about it."

His knees bent and a sob escaped him, but he finally decided he had to commit.

"Why don’t you just switch me too?"

Have you ever seen someone’s jaw literally drop? Have you ever felt your own do that? I did both because that’s how Zack and I both reacted. On the other hand, a switching, especially now before the other kids got home, would be much less embarrassing than having to admit to all your friends that you were grounded from your car. And no matter how you compared the agony, it would be over more quickly.

"Cal, you can’t choose just to be switched. I’m going to switch you, but that’s probably not all that’s going to happen. You two are sixteen-years-old, I thought you were responsible, and I’m very disappointed."

It’s funny to me how much worse Zack seemed to be taking this little harangue than Cal was. I don’t know if my good opinion meant that much to him, or if Cal has just developed some calluses from all the previous lectures he’s endured.

"What else?" Cal tried to demand, though he was just too whiny by now for it to be more than a plea.

"I just told you that I don’t know, Cal. I know you’re getting this, and I’m pretty sure I think you deserve more; but I’m not going to decide until I can be more fair about it. Understand?"

It was reluctant, but he nodded.

"Do you think it would be more fair for both of you to accept exactly the same punishment?"

They looked at each other for a second, then turned back to me and nodded.

"Okay, get ‘em off." Cal hesitated just a second, obviously scared and second-guessing himself now that we were at the crux. "Hurry up. I still need to get you guys back to school."

Cal waited one more second, then bent down to remove his socks. Zack and I watched as he started to undo his pants. I waited, and when Cal was pulling his jeans free from his ankles, I nodded at Zack. Zack sighed, but slipped out of his boxers. It was only a few seconds later that Cal’s boxers landed on top of Zack’s.

The two boys were both very good looking, though Cal’s really not very boyish anymore. Zack’s firm and flat, but he’s still boyishly lean, with only a hint of hips and his chest is defined but still narrow. Cal, on the other hand, is ripped. His belly ripples, and he has a distinct waist and hips, and his hard pecs spread away from his rib cage. Cal’s still lean, but not in a boyish way.

Of course, Zack wasn’t boyish in every way. He wasn’t anywhere near as impressive as Caleb, with what had to be nearly seven inches and about as thick as I am when I’m hard. Of course, while Cal wasn’t hard, he wasn’t hanging straight down either, so he may have been close to full-size. On the other hand, while Zack’s balls were hanging almost as low and nearly the same size, he had about three inches of soft dick nesting atop his balls, with the head resting just between them. Maybe it was just the difference between being a ‘shower’ and a ‘grower’. Judging by their foreskins, that was probably the case. Both boys were circumcised, but loosely; yet while Cal’s head jutted forward enough to show the pale skin behind it, Zack’s foreskin covered the swell of his head like a turtleneck.

I shouldn’t really say that Zack was ‘boyish’ looking. Rather, I should probably say he looked adolescent, since boys don’t have that thick, dark hair growing on the lowest part of their bellies or the wiry hairs. Of course, the hair he had was nothing compared to his friend’s. While Zack’s thick patch of pubic hair arched around the upper base of his penis, Cal’s slightly thinner patch was triangling away towards both hips, climbing towards his belly, and crawling down onto his upper thighs. It’s funny how the two of them could be so physically opposite one another, yet so close emotionally.

I waited just a moment, both to enjoy the view and to let them grow a little embarrassed, before I spoke.

"Do you think you can pick a good switch?" I asked, someplace between the two of them.

Zack looked at Cal. Cal shrugged, then looked at me and nodded. "I think so."

I just pointed towards the door.

I’m not positive, but I think Cal and Zack were six the first time they got spanked together. I don’t know how many times they’ve been skinny dipping together, from the time they were five, until last summer, and I doubt that was the last time. I know they used to jerk off together (I’ve tucked them into separate beds at night, wearing their undies, and come in the next morning to find them in bed together, naked, with a stained rag on the floor), I’m pretty sure they still do, and have a strong suspicion they’ve tried more than that at least once or twice. Yet suddenly having to walk outside, naked, to pick a switch for their own punishment, the two of them seemed as shy of each other as they did going outside. I tried to hide it, but it was rather amusing.

It took them a few minutes to get the job done. I was watching out the sliding door while they tried to pick one. I think Cal was trying to balance some idea of what I would be willing to accept with finding one that would neither slice him open nor bruise him to the bones. He finally picked one, gave it a swish through the air, then handed it to Zack. As Zack ran his hands up and down the length of the branch, stripping the leaves and buds from it, Cal searched for another. After several minutes, they each had one and skulked back to the house.

While the boys were outside, I’d flexed a bit and swung my arms, then decided to take off the powder blue button-down shirt I was leaving. When they came back in, I was only wearing an undershirt, still tucked into my khakis, and my thick black leather belt was prominently displayed. I’m not as impressive as either of those two, but the sight still seemed to dismay them.

When they came in, I took the switch from Zack and swished it though the air, causing both boys to wince, before giving it a quick inspection. It averaged nearly the width of a regular pencil, though it tapered a bit at the very end. It was about two and a half feet long and very flexible. More than acceptable, so I took Cal’s, gave it the same inspection, and found its only difference was an extra inch or two. Satisfied, I motioned the two boys towards the love seat.

Cal walked around to the arm, maybe hoping to go first, but I motioned him back.

"Both of you at the back of it, please. Lift the pillows up over the back edge."

The love seat had a narrow backrest, but the cushions on it were more like pillows, allowing the two boys to use them for protection and to raise their rears, something Cal especially needed.

I laid the shorter switch down and looked at the two boys.

"Spread your legs a bit," I instructed them.

I waited, then tapped the switch against Cal’s ankles.

"A bit more. Zack, push up on your toes a bit. Cal, move your hips forward a little."

Because of the difference in their heights, Cal’s legs stuck out further, but Zack was on the left, so they wouldn’t be much in my way. I glanced one more time, then reached down and let my fingertips brush lightly across the underside of Cal’s sac, making him jerk like I’d used a livewire.

"Unless you want the switch doing that, you’d better pull those up."

Cal did. Zack must have been watching because he did the same before I could check.

Once I was satisfied, with the switch in my left hand, I let it rest across their backs and reached down to pat their rears. Zack’s was firm, but a little soft, while Cal’s was more deeply dimpled and hard. Cal’s was cuter, but not as pleasant to the touch (or spank?) as Zack’s. That didn’t even consider that Zack’s little bottom is still hairless, while Cal has light brown fluff all over his cheeks and longer, slightly darker hair growing up the crack.

"You know why you’re in trouble, so I’m not going to say anything else about that right now. I should wait and do this after school with the rest of the family here. It wouldn’t hurt the little guys to have a reminder of what happens when they start breaking laws instead of rules, and it would probably be good for Ryan and Daniel to understand that, even though they’ve put their paddles away, they’re still subject to whatever discipline I decide they need."

"The reason I’m not doing it after school," I continued, "is because the two of you are sixteen-years-old. I’m very disappointed in you, and I intend to make sure that this sinks into your bones, but I don’t want to humiliate you. I’m upset with you, but I still love you both, and this is supposed to be about you accepting consequences, not about me trying to break you. Understand me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you, Uncle Jack," Zack added, though I’m not sure how thankful he actually sounded.

I gave Zack’s bottom a pat, stood up, and switched the switch to my right hand.

"All right. However, you guys are sixteen. I don’t expect you to hold still or stay quiet, but I do expect you to stay in place. I’m not going to fight with you about it. If you can’t stay down, I’ll just finish with the other boy, then you can get back down, and I’ll let the other one hold you. Do you understand that?"

Two muttered replies that I took to be ‘yeses’.

"Then we’re ready," I warned them.

Both boys tensed. I didn’t bother waiting since I knew there was no way they’d be able to relax. I did take a moment to admire the way Zack’s dimples deepened just a bit, but only a brief one.

The switch was silent as it lifted into the air, but it sounded like a steam whistle as it cut the silence and slashed across Zack’s rear. A yelp of protest shrieked from Zack’s throat as he felt the sting cut across his bottom. I lifted the switch and watched as the thin, white strip, which appeared stark against the milk-with-a-splash-of-coffee complexion, swiftly turned to red. Then repeated it on Cal.

Despite the size difference, Cal’s voice is actually a bit higher-pitched than Zack’s; yet he moaned rather than shrieked when the switch cut across his own cheeks. With his paler skin tone, the white line didn’t show up as distinctly as on Zack’s slightly Mediterranean complexion, but it didn’t take long to see exactly where it was, as the blood flowed in to paint it red.

The first cut landed on the lowest, tenderest part of their bottoms. The second came all the way to the top of their cheeks, barely below the start of the crack. That wasn’t quite as sensitive and was easier to take, though both of them still yelped as it sliced down. After the first stripe, the rest marched down their rears, laddering a pattern of stripes across the swells.

The boys tried to take it bravely. After the second stroke, Cal managed to choke back the noise at the third one, and Zack managed on his next one; but after a couple of more strokes, both were starting to yelp and moan again.

As the strokes continued to fall, slowly, since I was working back and forth between each boy, trying to time it so the pain had a chance to peak before another stripe landed on him, each boy’s yelps and groans became louder, though less distinct. Finally, as the rungs of the ladder passed the apex then began working towards those most tender, sensitive under swells, Cal threw his head back with his own shriek. His feet began to drum on the floor.

"Please, Dad. Please! I’m sorry. I’m sorry!"

Even before I could give Zack his next stroke, he shoved his face into the cushion of the couch. His left leg crossed over his right, but I didn’t try to make him put it down. I heard a muffled howl as the switch cut across his cheeks, then turned back to Cal.

Cal was looking over his shoulder, and when he saw me reach across Zack, he suddenly pushed up, and his hand shot behind him to cover his rear.

"PLEASE no more, Dad."

I felt horrible, but told him in a firm, quite voice, "Move your hand and lie back down or get up so I can finish with Zack."

He looked at me for a long moment, then tears, which were already standing out in his eyes, started to roll down his cheeks, and his chest started to shake with quiet sobs as he let himself fall forward and pulled his arms up over his head. He shrieked as the switch whistled into his rump, and there was no doubt that he was really crying now.

Zack held out for two more stripes before he was crying just as hard.

I was keeping careful count and knew exactly how many strokes I was planning, though the boys had no idea. After each of them had received sixteen, I stopped. When there was no whistle, no fresh cry from his friend, Caleb rolled up to look back at me. What he saw was me trading the worn switch for the other. He moaned, an indescribable sound of misery, and collapsed loosely onto the couch.

As the stripes marched down onto their legs, both boys were wiggling and squirming. Their feet were drumming against the floor when their legs weren’t scissoring. Both of them were crying loud and hard. Cal had his arms back over his head as he rolled around the cushion. Zack’s arms hung in front of him, where they sometimes drummed against the front of the couch as his shoulders and head thrashed around.

By the time I’d placed eight strokes down their legs, half the strokes they’d had on their bottoms, and marching almost halfway down the area their boxers would cover, both boys were bawling—just limply lying over the couch and twitching as each stroke cut down.

I stopped and ran my hand over Zack’s reddened rear, enjoying the heat and the rippled sideways corduroy pattern for just a second. Then I placed the switch against the sit spots—the only place on his cheeks or upper thighs that was still virgin of stripes. The switch pulled back and then suddenly six strokes flew up and down, the switch blurring as it went, each one cutting into that especially tender area. Zack screamed. He suddenly found the strength to arch his back. His head reared up, and his hand finally flew back to prevent the assault he could no longer stand; yet by the time it arrived, it was already over. As soon as he realized that, he fell forward again, bawling so hard he was coughing.

I stepped between Zack’s legs, ran my hand over Caleb’s tush for a second, then lined up the switch. As soon as he felt the switch, he yelped, even though I was just aiming. He didn’t or couldn’t beg me not to but managed to get his hand up and behind him. I thought about telling him to move it, or threatening to have Zack hold his hands, but just gently took it and held it against the small of his back.

The switch cut down in those rapid-fire strokes, and he definitely shrieked.

Each boy had received thirty carefully aimed and counted strokes: sixteen on their cheeks, eight on their legs, and six at the sit spots. I’d planned on thirty-two, with the last two ‘x’-ing their bottoms. Looking at the bawling, broken boys, I knew it’d be overkill.

I left the two boys over the couch while I quickly disposed of the switches, then came back to them. Taking him by the shoulders, I gently pulled Zack up. He was stiff and resentful but let me wrap my arms around him. After a minute, he put his head against my chest. A moment later, he relaxed, and his arms came up to wrap around me.

I stood there with Zack for another minute then loosened my hold and nodded at Cal. Zack grimaced but nodded and let me step away from him. As I pulled Cal up, I looked to see Zack reach back and try to rub his backside before quickly snatching his hands away.

With Cal, there was no reluctance. He had to bend a bit but managed to get his head on my shoulder, if not my chest. I gave him his own attention for a bit, then motioned at Zack and he quickly joined us.

Finally, after several minutes, broken only by the sound of their slowly fading crying, I loosened my arms.

"C’mon guys. We’ve got to get you to school."



There was a lot of protest from both boys, but neither wanted to learn how the bath brush felt over fresh switch welts. They climbed upstairs, being very careful about how much and how fast they moved, and were back down within the ten minutes I’d allotted. Cal was carrying his shirt and shoes, but Zack had pulled his shirt on and looked so cute since he was still naked

Both of them were still red-eyed, and Cal’s nose was a little runny, but they’d both washed their face. After one more attempt to stay home the rest of the day, they carefully pulled on their boxers. Zack pulled on his khaki slacks. After trying to get into his jeans, Zack and I waited while Cal went back upstairs to find some softer pants.

I was driving Cal’s car since Steven had my sedan, PJ had driven the SUV to take the kids to school, and the Porsche wouldn’t hold all three of us. The two of them were in the backseat, and I glanced back over my shoulder as we came to a traffic light.

"Zack, has Cal ever told you about the day he spent in seclusion after that fight at school last year?"

He thought for a second. "A little bit, I guess. He mentioned it."

"Cal, you need to tell him about it. I figure that since you decided to play around on a school day, you can give up one of the days you’re supposed to be off, so that’s what you guys will be doing Saturday."

"No, Dad!" Cal responded, suddenly panicked and on the edge of tears again. "Not the tawse, too. I couldn’t take…."

"I didn’t say anything about the tawse, Cal. Take a breath."

I waited a minute while he calmed down. When his eyes weren’t quite as wide and he didn’t look as though he were about to hyperventilate, I went on.

"CP is on top of seclusion, not part of it. You usually get some," I added, glancing over at Zack, "but I’ve really not decided yet. I do promise you," I went on before Cal could interrupt or get upset again, "that you will NOT get the tawse or anything that bad. Okay?"

Cal nodded, looking at least a little relieved. After a moment, looking confused and worried, since he didn’t know exactly what we meant, Zack did as well.



At the school, I took the two boys into the office and informed the secretary that we needed to talk to Mr. Kirk. A minute later, Toby came out and escorted the three of us to his office.

"Hello, Jack. I see you found them."

"Hullo, Tobe. Yeah, right where I thought they’d be. Thanks for calling."

The two of them didn’t look happy, but I don’t know what they expected when one of their dad’s best friends was the principal at their school, just like I’d had to deal with when Toby’s dad was the vice-principal the entire time I was in high school.

"Well," Toby said, turning his attention to the boys. "I’m guessing this is an unexcused absence."

With me standing there, the boys couldn’t even make an attempt at getting out of it, so they just nodded. Toby walked around his desk.

"You both have second lunch?"

They nodded again, and he glanced at his watch.

"Then you’ve missed three periods and part of a fourth."

Toby bent down, opened a desk drawer, and pulled out a paddle.

"Swats or detention?"

I’ve seen Zack and Cal spend twenty minutes arguing over whether it looked ‘too gay’ for them to wear the same shirt, now that they’re living in the same room, but there was no question at all that they agreed on this point.

"Detention!"





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