Danny Whiple and His Uncle

It was a bright and sunny California evening; not something to which I was accustomed, but absolutely beautiful. I was just pulling on to the San Diego Freeway, was considerably less than a mile from the ocean, and the air was fresh with the smell of salt. For all the bad things I’d heard about Los Angeles, San Diego seemed to be a little foretaste of paradise.

It was about 7:15pm, and about two hours before it’d be dark, about the same as it was in my part of Texas at this time of the year. However, it was much more temperate, the high for the day probably having hit only the low 80s, about twenty degrees cooler than back home.

I’d just finished a stint at the San Diego Comics Con and was feeling both extremely happy and like I’d been beaten with a stick. The bad part was because I’d been going from can ‘til can’t the last five days in a row, and even a fairly healthy man in his mid-twenties can start to wear down after enough abuse. The happy was because I’d seen a lot of old friends, made some new ones, had a great time, and earned quite a bit of money. That didn’t even include what was coming now.

I was behind the wheels of an old Ford Econoline van but wasn’t quite ready to head back for Texas yet. You see, I kind of knew someone in San Diego. Well, of course, I had cousins there, and Jason and Nick, who were sixteen and eleven now, had been a huge help over the long weekend, but we’d also had a great time (even if they had behaved well enough I never had an excuse to spank, and even if Jason had started wearing boxers). However, now that I’d dropped them off, I was going to visit a friend I’d never met before.

I’d met Mike Whipple through the Foxxnet BBS, which was a spanking site I’d stumbled across long before I learned about the Internet. Foxxnet was an all-purpose site, but you could choose whether you were top or bottom, m or f. Each choice had gallery, a forum, a story archive, and a chat room—even if it was only one on one. I’d known about Foxxnet for over a year by that time, and Mike and I had been talking on a regular basis for most of that time. Now we were going to meet.



It wasn’t hard to find Mike’s apartment, and I pulled in about 7:30 pm. I took a moment to check the locks on the van. Mike didn’t live in a bad neighborhood, and you couldn’t see inside the van anyway, so I wasn’t too worried about it being stolen (besides, it was insured). Happy with that, I grabbed my bag and started looking for apartment forty-two.

Mike and I had exchanged pictures in the lead-up to this meeting, so I wasn’t surprised at how he looked, though I guess I’d not realized how much taller than me he was. It wasn’t Mike that caught my eye, though.

"This," Mike said, putting an arm around him to guide the little fellow forward, "is my nephew, Danny. Say hello to Jack, Danny."

"Hello, Jack," the boy dutifully replied.

"Hello, Danny. Doing all right today?" I asked him, smiling at his shyness.

He smiled back at me and nodded.

"Good." I stuck out my hand after shaking with his uncle, and Danny shook it.

He was a cutie, though I say that about most boys his age. I knew Danny was eight, and I guess he was about average size for that age—just a bit over four foot. He was lean, but it looked like he had just a bit of baby fat left to him (or maybe he was getting ready for a growth spurt). He had dark brown hair that looked like it was supposed to be parted, but fell in bangs over his forehead, and medium brown eyes. He obviously spent a fair amount of time in the sun, going by the depth of his tan. His face was round, without him having chipmunk cheeks, and he had a straight, lean nose, with a little button at the end.

I’d known that Danny was going to be joining us and also knew that he was a big Spider-man fan, so I’d brought a t-shirt for him. Danny ripped it open, yanked his own shirt off, revealing a firm, but slightly rounded belly, and pulled the new shirt on, showing it was a perfect fit. At his uncle’s urging, he went shy again, but politely thanked me.

Mike and I sat down and talked for a bit. Danny was sitting on the floor playing with some Hot Wheels, but watching us talk. After a while, he seemed to become used to me and even joined the conversation, asking me all about the Comic Con. Once Danny seemed to be comfortable, Mike excused himself.

"I had to get some yard work and stuff done today, and I didn’t have a chance to shower before you got here. I want to introduce you to that steak and seafood place I told you about, but I have got to get a shower before we go. Will you excuse me for a few minutes?"

"Sure. As much as I love these cons, it‘s hard to get a good meal when you‘re working them."

"Great. I’ll be back in a minute. And you’d better behave yourself, mister," he added, turning to his nephew. "If you act up, you’d better hope Jack spanks you himself instead of telling me about it."

The boy’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped just a bit, but he nodded at the implied ‘understand me?’ After a long look to make sure Danny believed him, Mike walked away.

Danny and I looked at each other, unsure how to go on. Since he was just as quiet as I was, I took the plunge.

"Your uncle said you’ve been having some trouble behaving today, Danny. That right?"

"No," he said petulantly, then appeared to think about it a moment. "Maybe a little."

"He said he hasn’t had to spank you yet, but you got pretty close. Does he have to spank you often?"

The boy shrugged. I guess it was a pretty vague question.

"Is your uncle a pretty good spanker?"

Now he nodded enthusiastically, reaching back to rub his rear end, just in case I didn’t understand the nod.

"Uncle Mike has to take care of me a lot. Mom home schools me, but Uncle Mike helps, ‘cause Dad’s in the Navy, and he’s away a lot sometimes."

I nodded, then told him about my step-dad having been in the Navy, though that had ended when I was too young to remember anything but snippets of it. He was also interested in learning that I’d been spanked when I was his age.

"Not just your age, but a lot older than you. I was a teenager when I got my last whipping."

"A teenager? Oh, man, that’s forever until I’m that old."

"It might seem like it now, but when you’re my age, you won’t believe how quick it all flew by."

"So…" I added after another seconds quiet, "I think the thing I hated worst about getting spanked was having my bottom bared."

"Yeah, it hurts a lot worse that way."

"Is that how you always get it?"

He nodded, with a sorrowful look on his face.

"My first step-dad used to pull my undies down for me, but my dad made me do it. Which way do you get it?"

"I have to pull my own down. I hate that."

"Because you know the spankings going to hurt, and pulling your shorts down is like helping with it?"

He nodded.

"Yeah, that’s how I always felt, too. Still, I hated having to stand there and let someone else pull ‘em down, too. I’m not sure which is worse."

He shrugged. "I wish I could just keep ‘em on."

"Yeah," I replied with a chuckle, "I guess that would be best from your side. You know your uncle makes you pull ‘em down to help you learn your lesson, though, don’t you?"

"Yeah, I know. It still hurts, though."

"What does he spank you with?"

"Usually just his hand."

"Well, that could be a lot worse. I mostly got it with a paddle or belt. My mom spanked me with a flyswatter sometimes."

"A flyswatter? Did it hurt?"

"It hurt enough to make me cry. More stung really, I guess. I mean, with a belt, you could still feel it a long time later. I think a flyswatter actually hurt more when you were getting it, but it went away quicker."

He nodded thoughtfully, as if he were enjoying our discussion of the finer points of spanking implements. He certainly didn’t seem to be bothered by it, anyway. Maybe he was used to talks like this since his uncle was a spanko. As we were talking, I’d moved from the couch to join him on the floor, and we were pushing cars back and forth to each other.

"What else does he use?"

"Huh?"

"You said he mostly spanks you with his hand. What else does he use?"

"Oh…" he said, suddenly understanding the question and blushing. "Really just his hand."

"Then why did you say mostly?"

"Well," he replied after a second, in which he started to seem shy again, "one time he had to spank me with a hairbrush ‘cause I was really bad."

"Oh! You must have been bad to get the brush."

"It hurts a whole lot, don’t it?"

"It sure does. What happened?"

"Well…. Did I tell you that I go to school at home and Mama teaches us?"

I nodded.

"Well, I got two sisters. Miranda’s older than me and Teri’s younger than me. One day, Mom was helping Miranda with her homework, and I was waiting, so I got down on the floor to play with Teri. Then Mom had to go answer the phone or something, and when she was gone, Miranda said I was playing with blocks ‘cause I was a little baby too. Well, I got mad and threw a block at her, and it hit her in the head. And Mom came in and Miranda told her that I threw it at her, and Mom was really mad at me and called Uncle Mike."

Mike had told me about this incident, and I knew it had actually happened nearly six months ago, but the boy seemed genuinely moved as he recited the story, like it had only just happened.

"When Uncle Mike got there, he came in my room. He chewed me out and told me I was really lucky I hadn’t hurt Miranda bad, but that I was gonna have to have a hard spanking. Then he made me take all my clothes all the way off…."

"He doesn’t always do that?"

"Nu-huh. Usually he just makes me pull my pants and undies down."

He paused for a second, as though seeing if I had any other questions, then went on.

"After I took my clothes off, I started to get over his lap, but he stopped me and got the brush. I’d never gotten spanked with a brush before, but Miranda said it hurt really bad, and I was scared."

"I’ll bet you were. Did you get over his lap then?"

"I didn’t wanna, and I asked him please not to use the brush, but he still used it. It did hurt a lot more than his hand. I cried really loud."

He stopped then, looking as if he were reliving the painful experience, then he sniffed a bit.

"You know what was even worse?"

"What’s that?"

"Before Uncle Mike let me get dressed, he made me go ‘pologize to Miranda. I hated that." "Having to apologize?"

"No, I had to show her my butt." He looked really distressed by that memory, then paused for a second. "’Least Uncle Mike let me put my hands down, so she didn’t see my peter."

"Yeah," I replied, manfully choking off a chuckle, "I guess that was something, anyway. And you did owe her an apology."

"I know. I felt bad about it, even before Uncle Mike spanked me. But she shouldn’t oughta call me names." The boy’s face was very emotive, and he suddenly looked mad for a second, before an evil smile snuck over his face."

"What?"

"Well, she thought it was funny that I gotta spankin’, so she called me names again, trying to get me to hit her again, but Mom caught her, and SHE got spanked then."

I shared a smile for the boy. I can understand that throwing things is worse than name-calling, but I was glad he got a little justice out of the situation. I guess I could empathize with him since I’d also had to deal with a sister who’d deliberately antagonize, expecting the boy to get blamed and spanked, when they’d been the ones to provoke the entire situation.

"So, what have you been doing today?"

"Nothing," Danny said, momentarily confused by the seeming change of topic.

"Well, you must have been doing something, if your Uncle said he was about ready to spank you.

"Oh," Danny replied, pinkening just a bit. "Uncle wasn’t sure what time you’d get here, so he had to pick me up early today. I promised I’d behave while he took care of some stuff, but I guess I was kind of ram… rabmo…."

"Rambunctious?"

"Yeah, that," he agreed, nodding.

"Did he warn you to settle down?"

Danny nodded again, starting to look a little nervous.

"Well, if you promised to behave, and he warned you to settle down, and you didn’t… sometimes I guess a boy just needs a spanking before he’s going to settle down."

Danny’s eyes had widened a bit, and he was starting to look a little nervous about the turn the conversation was taking.

"Of course," I continued, "I do know something else that can help a boy behave when he’s too rowdy."

"You do? Besides spanking? What is it?"

"TICKLING," I roared, suddenly swooping towards him as he shrieked.



A little while later, Mike walked into the living room and stopped with a rather bemused look on his face as he stared down at his nephew and me lying next to each other on the floor, breathing hard. Danny was still giggling just a bit, between his gasps.

Mike wasn’t bad looking, I thought, as I looked up at him, but he definitely wasn’t my type. He was taller than me and older. I think he was only in his mid-thirties but already showing a bit of gray around the temples. He wasn’t fat but did carry a little bit of extra weight. He was certainly not someone I was embarrassed to be seen in public with, but he didn’t really do anything for me.

I pushed myself up from the ground, then helped Danny up. The two of us straightened ourselves, put on our shoes, and we all headed out the door.

The steak house to which Mike took me was great, especially considering that it wasn’t really expensive. Danny didn’t have a great time, but at least they had place mats with puzzles and crayons, so he managed not to get himself into trouble.

That evening, we sat around and talked for a bit, until time for Danny to hit the sack. Mike saw to ht he was bathed, then tucked him in on a cot in his bedroom.

Once Danny was down, Mike brought out his spanking stuff. He had a pretty good collection of videos, but what he really wanted to show me was a letter that Danny had written. After the incident Danny had told me about, he’d had to write a letter to his dad, telling him about it. It was part of an English assignment, so he’d written the letter, it had been corrected, then he’d re-written it, and the finished copy had been mailed to his dad. Mike still had the original.

It was a cute letter, the letters a little shaky but painstakingly made. It basically went over the same things he’d told me, and not in as much detail in some places. There were a couple of very cute bits, though: like where he said, "Uncle Mike made me take off all my clothes. I asked him not to do that, because I was cold, but he said that wouldn’t bother me long." The last part was a little sad because the poor kid was trying to assure his father he’d learned his lesson, and almost the last part was, "I’m really, really sorry and don’t need another spanking, Daddy." (Mike assured me that they didn’t double spank, but the boy’s dad had warned him about hitting his sisters before, so he must have had a guilty conscience.)

I was already pretty worked up after reading the letter. Then Mike dug out his collection of spanking vids, let me pick the ones that interested me, and we watched several. I was very worked up by the time we decided to turn in. I’m not sure Mike was upset that I indicated I wanted to sleep alone, but he didn’t make a big deal out of it, either. Between Daniel’s story and the videos, I was sure primed, but Mike really wasn’t my type.



We had a great day Monday. We stopped at McDonald’s for breakfast on the run, then hit up Sea World in the first half of the day and the San Diego Zoo in the afternoon. We didn’t have time to do everything at both places, but we got to see the best stuff. I kind of wish I’d scheduled time to spend a full day at both places, but I did have a business to run. Even though most of my San Diego trip had been business, I still felt the need to get back (especially since I had a two-day drive still in front of me).

I was a bit disappointed in how well Danny behaved. While the trip was a lot more fun with a kid along—seeing how excited he got over all the exhibits seemed to make the more exciting for me as well—I’d hoped he’d get himself into some trouble to end the day with a real bang… or at least a real smack. As we were heading home, Mike asked me if I thought Danny needed a spanking. I knew the kid was getting over-tired and becoming cranky on the one hand, but on the other hand, he was being a pain in the rear, as well. Still, we’d had a good day, and I didn’t want to ruin it for Danny, even though seeing him spanked would have been nice. I have the feeling Mike thought I was a little soft or lenient, but he didn’t push the issue either.



The next morning I woke from a pretty decent night’s sleep on the couch, showered, then took my bag out to the van. Mike offered to lead me to a Denny’s near the highway, where we could breakfast together before I took off.

Danny wasn’t happy with Denny’s and demanded McDonald’s again.

"I know you like McDonald’s, Danny," his uncle told the boy, "but Jack has a long drive today, and he wants something a little more substantial to start the day. Maybe we can get breakfast at McDonald’s next time you come over."

I didn’t hear anything in Mike’s voice that sounded condescending or rude, but Danny’s lower lip pouted out, he crossed his arms over his chest, and his brow wrinkled in an ‘I-want’ line, and he glared at us for a minute.

"You’d better wipe that look off your face, if you know what’s good for you, little man," Mike told his nephew in a suddenly serious voice.

Danny didn’t take the blatant hint though. "I want McDonald’s," he replied firmly.

Mike started to say something, but I stopped him. He looked at me, then waved towards the boy.

"Danny, I’m sorry you feel like McDonald’s this morning, but I’d really like a nice omelet or something. I’ll bet you can find something you like at Denny’s. Okay?"

"No!" he replied in an extremely rude tone.

"Well, that’s tough, buddy, but we’re going to Denny’s. You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to, though. Now, would you hand me my keys?"

The keys were sitting on the counter, right next to where Danny was seated on a stool. The boy reached over, picked them up, but then threw them at his uncle. Mike didn’t even flinch when they hit him. Instead, he bent down, picked them up, and sat them back on the counter.

"I don’t know what’s wrong with you, Daniel, but I know how to fix it. C’mon," Mike told him, as he reached over and picked the boy up from the stool where he’d been sitting.

"No, Uncle Mike. Denny’s is okay."

"I know it is, but it’s a little late now."

Mike walked into the living room, placed the boy on the floor, then stepped over and took a seat on his footstool.

"You know you’re not supposed to behave like that, don’t you, Danny?"

"I’m sorry, Uncle Mike. I just wanted…."

"I know what you wanted, Danny, but that doesn’t mean you can act however you want, does it?"

"No, sir."

"Were you acting like a good boy should?"

The boy shook his head. Standing in the doorway, I had a good view of him. His lower lip was still pouted out, but his chin was quivering now, and his eyes were already starting to water.

"Were you acting rude just now?"

He nodded.

"To who?"

"You."

"Anyone else?"

"Jack?"

"Yes, you were being rude to me and to Jack. Jack was very polite to you. Can you tell Jack what happens to little boys when they’re rude?"

"I’m sorry, Uncle Mike."

"That’s not what I asked, Danny. Can you tell Jack…?"

"When little boys are rude, they get spankings," Danny said, turning to me.

"Then take your pants and undies off," Mike instructed the boy.

"Off?! I don’t want the brush, Uncle Mike," the boy gasped. He obviously had a healthy respect for that brush.

"Danny," Mike said and reached towards the boy, but Danny cringed away from him.

"Please, Uncle Mike…" Danny choked out in a panic.

"Danny," Mike said again, leaning back, "I’m not going to use the brush. But you were rude to Jack, so I think he deserves to have a good view of you getting your spanking, don’t you?"

"No brush?" the boy asked, calming just a bit.

"No brush, but I do want you to take all your clothes off; all right?"

He was nodding energetically now. Any modesty he might have had was wiped away by relief that the brush wasn’t coming into play.

"Then go ahead and get them off," Mike said again. I could tell he was amused at his nephew’s reaction, but he was trying hard to keep his voice serious.

Danny looked at his uncle, then glanced at me, before looking down. His hands reached up and unfastened the button on his jean shorts, then slid the zipper down. The shorts fell a bit down his legs when the zipper came open. Danny slid his fingers into the waistband of his white briefs, then slid them and his jeans to his ankles, and then he stepped out of them. Standing up, he turned and put the clothes on the coffee table before turning back to his uncle.

"Shirt too."

He took the shirt by the bottom and pulled it over his head, then laid it on top of the other clothes.

Danny was now buck naked and cute as heck. He was basically lean, but had just a little extra padding. His belly had a slight curve, and his bottom was full and round. He trembled for a second, but when his uncle gestured, Danny stepped forward and let himself be lifted over his uncle’s lap.

Mike looked at me, then nodded towards the couch and started to rub the boy’s bottom as I stepped over and sat down.

As soon as I was seated, Mike went to work. He was very methodical about the spanking. He placed a firm, but not especially hardm swat, then rubbed for a second, lifted his hand, examined the area, then selected the next target. Again and again he spanked that way around the boy’s rear.

Danny was obviously used to being spanked. He wasn’t fighting or begging. He was quiet for the first few swats, only jiggling and squirming as each one landed. As the spanking went on, his little feet began to drum the air, and his hands would jerk around in front of him. Danny was holding his head up a bit, as if he were trying to look as far away from the spanking as he could, but it would jerk a bit, coming down and around with each swat.

Danny began to oh and ow quietly as the handprints on his bottom turned from pink to red, then he suddenly moaned as Mike reached down and cupped one little thigh in his hand. When the hand smacked down this time, Danny’s ‘Ow’ was much louder. A few more swats on the thighs, then back to the boy’s bottom, and Danny asked in a voice nearly dripping tears, "Is it through yet?"

Mike glanced up at the boy, but didn‘t bother to answer.

I’d been hard as a rock since I’d realized the little cutie was going to get spanked, but I was trying to behave myself. Still, I couldn’t keep my hand from stealing into my lap or stop my fingers from gently trailing along the edge of my erection. I was trembling as I watched the show.

After the boy’s question, Mike cupped the boys cheeks each in a hand and pulled them apart just a bit, then he pulled the boy’s right cheek taut with his left hand and placed several, rapid but softer swats, right on the now-tight sit spot. As he felt the skin pulled tight, Danny moaned and began to cry as those swats rained down. By the time Mike had done the left cheek, Danny was starting to cry hard.

Mike placed a couple of more swats on the boy’s upper thighs, then let a few more fall randomly around his bottom, before stopping. He spread his big hand wide and placed it so it nearly covered the boy’s entire tush. Then he lifted it up and once, twice, three times he brought it down harder than any of the swats he’d given before. Even though they still weren‘t really what you‘d call hard. Danny threw his head back and wailed as they landed.

After the third swat, Mike examined the bottom for a minute as Danny lay limply across his lap, bawling. Satisfied with the examination, Mike took the boy by the thighs and lifted him to his feet.

"Are you listening to me, Danny?"

The boy had his back to me, but it was easy to see him nod, though I was focused a bit further down his anatomy.

"Do you remember now what happens to little boys when they’re rude?

Another nod.

"Are you going to try to be good now?"

He managed to choke out a squeaked, ‘Yes, sir.’

Mike pulled his nephew in for a quick hug, then held him at arm’s length.

"Good. Now, I think you need to go apologize to Jack, then you let him look at your bottom and see if it’s red enough, or if he thinks you need a few more spanks."

"I don’t, Uncle Mike!"

"I’m sure you think you don’t, but it’s not your decision. Now go."

Mike gently turned the boy, and he began to waddle towards me, apparently trying hard not to stress those sore cheeks.

He was still crying pretty hard but managed to choke out an apology. "I’m s-s-sorry for be… being rude, Jack."

The poor kid’s face was flushed, stained with snot and tears, and his eyes were bloodshot and still leaking. He looked me right in the eyes as he started his apology, but then had to look away. That was actually a good thing for me because it meant he didn’t notice where I was actually looking.

Even though he’d been crying hard and loud and was still crying a bit, his little peter was standing straight out. That’s not to say he had an actual erection, which would have been pointing up a bit, but it was obvious that not everything was too upset about the spanking.

"That’s all right, Danny. All of us are rude sometimes. I just hope you learned something."

"I…I did," he rushed to assure me.

"Danny…" his uncle reminded him.

"Oh, yeah." His voice suddenly dropped down even quieter. "Would you look at my bottom and make sure I’ve been spanked enough?"

"Sure, kiddo," I replied, trying to hide some of my delight.

I lifted the boy under the arms and stretched him out across my legs. He allowed it, but hung limply, without helping.

I let my hand trace around his plump, fire engine red little bottom. The heat coming from it made me think the boy might believe a fire engine was appropriate. I let my hand wander the whole area, around to the places that were only pink or even still white, including stealing between his legs, and even ticking that spot just past where the crack comes together. He squirmed a bit at that. Finally I stopped and gave a very light pat.

"I dunno, Mike. Most of it looks pretty good, but he doesn’t seem as red right here," I said, adding a couple of more pats to demonstrate.

"Well, Mike said, his hand in his lap and a ‘I-dare-you’ smirk on his face, "Go ahead if you think he needs it."

Danny didn’t comment, except a soft moan.

"Well, Danny, do you think I should add a few more swats, or are you pretty sure you’ve learned to behave?"

"I have, Jack. I promise I have."

I gave a final two pats, just a little firmer, but still far from being swats.

"Okay, then. Hop up. But," I added in a warning tone as he climbed up from my lap, "if you’re rude next time I get to visit, I’ll definitely have to add some swats. Understand?"

"Yes, sir. I’ll be good next time," he promised, finally reaching back to rub his flaming cheeks. Then he stopped rubbing and held his arms out to me, so I pulled him into a brief hug, holding him with one arm, and reaching down to rub his little cheeks for him for just a second.

I would guess that it wasn’t the spanking the boy found even a little exciting, but the afterglow, the affection, and the rubbing, since, when he stepped back, he was now standing straight up.

"Danny, I want you to go to the bedroom and lay down on your cot for a bit while Jack and I talk, and you think about how you need to behave. Okay?"

"Yes, sir," the naked little boy replied, then turned towards the bedroom, hands still gently rubbing his little red wagon.

As soon as the boy was gone, Mike walked over to me. I stood, and he reached down and began to massage the front of my pants. I thought about doing the same to him, but before I could, he opened my pants and began to stroke me. I moaned and started to reach for him again, but he sank down and took me in his mouth.

I’m not sure how long he moved up and down, but I finally warned him I was about to lose control. He pulled off, reached over and grabbed his nephew’s briefs, wrapped them around my shaft, and began stroking again. I couldn’t hold long and quickly shot into the white cotton.

As soon as I was through, Mike unwrapped the briefs and reached down to begin stroking himself with them, then leaned forward to take me in his mouth again. The pleasure was agony, and I fought not to pull back before he added his load to my own.

A few minutes later, we were both cleaned up and dressed. Mike went to get Danny, sneaking a clean pair of briefs from his bag, then bringing the boy into the living room so we could watch him dress.

Breakfast went well and Danny ended up enjoying his pancakes and hash browns, though ‘they (weren’t) as good as an Egg Mc.’





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