Rambling Men
starring Van and Scooter
I was driving slowly up the street. It was 13 Oct 08, and it was cloudy and overcast. Not a good day at all. That was also Columbus Day, which was a holiday for the kids, but the teachers at BCA had to report for some type of seminar, which explains why I was watching the Malone boys. It did not explain why I was slowly driving up and down each street between my house and their's, looking up each street I passed looking for a pair of wanderers.
When I say there are seven blocks between the Malone home and mine, that’s not quite accurate. Arbor Grove is laid out in blocks of 8 to 12 houses - half on each side. That means that the streets running north/south are much shorter than those running east/west. Thus, while the Malone’s do live seven blocks away, it’s actually three long blocks and four short blocks.
I was about to turn and go up the next street when I saw a flash of red about a half-block ahead of me. Since Van had mostly been wearing his red windbreaker lately, I belayed the turn and went on to where I’d seen the flash. Sure enough, there were Van and Scooter, walking down the street without a care in the world - at least not yet.
I put the car in park and stepped out. The two boys looked back at the sound of the car, and Van was obviously not happy to see me.
"Get in the car," is all I said. I was trying hard to keep the fear out of my voice, mostly because I didn’t want them to think it was actually anger.
Once I had them buckled into the back, I pulled out and started heading slowly around the block. As soon as we were moving again, I asked over my shoulder, "What did you two think you were doing?"
"We were just going to get his garage, Daddy. We weren’t going to stay."
I’d known that’s what it was. They’d asked earlier if they could go to The Malone’s house to play with Scooter’s Playskool toys. We’d had some drizzle earlier in the day and a lot of heavy fog, and they hadn't been able to play outside. All the older boys were all in the middle of something, so I’d told them no. I know how it can be, when you start thinking about one particular thing and that’s what you really want to do; but, Van had plenty of things to keep the two of them busy.
They’d settled down and played the rest of the morning and were just fine until lunch. I was cleaning up the lunch dishes when they asked again. Once again, Christa was by herself with the babies, and she didn’t need the two of them over there, and I already knew that Tim was in the middle of a big game of Risk, so he wasn’t going to want to take them. I told them that, when I finished with a few things, I might take them over there to get the toys they wanted, but they couldn’t go over there and play. I think it was about 15 minutes later when I was ready to take them and realized they were gone.
"Did I tell you that you could go get the toy and come back, or did I say that you couldn’t go?"
"That we couldn’t go," Scooter hesitantly answered.
"That’s right, but the two of you decided that you could just disobey me and do what you wanted anyway, huh?"
"We’re sorry, Daddy."
"Sorry’s not good enough, Van."
I felt a little bad when I heard him sob in response to that. I didn’t want to upset him or hurt his feelings (his bottom was another matter); but, what they’d done had been more than disobedient, and they needed to understand that.
"Guys, I know it’s not really far to Scooter’s house; but that’s not what matters. You guys are still smaller than the cars. That means that it’s really hard for you to see into the street if there’s someone parked, and it means that it’s really hard for the drivers to see you. All it would take is one person not paying attention for one of you to get hit and hurt really bad, and I love you too much to want that to happen."
"Me too?"
"Yes, Scooter, I love you too."
I should have expected this was coming, but I’d just not seen it. Almost as soon as I’d met Mrs. Malone, Kim, when she first gave Van a real spanking, I’d learned that her kids only live a few blocks from us. After that, our kids quickly became regular visitors at each other’s houses. Van was becoming great friends with Scooter and Donny, who were a year younger and older than him. Tyler was over a year younger than Bryce, but they were about the same size and enjoyed a lot of the same things. Riley was almost the same age as Bryce, but he was pretty mature, and he enjoyed hanging out with the twins and even Barry, though he and Johnny seemed to be closest. And the Malone’s oldest boy, Tim, was 12, so he had plenty of playmates (or whatever the approved term is for friends of 12-year old boys this week) from whom to choose. Even their nephew, Michael, who was 14 was already friends with Caleb from school and got along okay with Daniel too. The fact that Kim and Curtis enjoy playing cards meant that I was becoming friends with them too, and I was already starting to become Uncle Jack to their boys. The problem was that the Malone's would let Donny come to our house by himself, even riding his bike; but, I wasn't comfortable with letting Van do that yet. And now that Van had Donny's example, he resented his restritions a bit.
I think that lead directly to this little trek. Arbor Grove is a quiet, residential neighborhood that's practically gated (only two entrances, neither of them directly to the residential street, and there are even a few speed bumps to help people to remember to keep it to 20. Still, like I'd told the boys, it's just not safe until you reach a certain height.
The two of them were silent for a moment, and then Scooter spoke again in something that I think might have been meant to be a whisper. "Is your daddy gonna spank us, Van?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Does he spank hard?"
"Really hard."
"I don’t wanna spanking."
"Then we shouldn’t a gone to your house after he told us no. Daddy says that you can choose to act up or not, but you don’t get to choose the … umm. Daddy, what’s that word?"
"Consequences."
"Yeah, you can’t choose the consequences."
The two of them fell into a silent contemplation of their upcoming fate as we pulled into the garage. I parked, unbuckled them and pulled them out of the car. As soon as we were out , I had them really look at how big the car was compared to them. I pointed out how they couldn’t really see around or over it, and then picked them up one at a time, so they’d be at my height, and showed them how hard it was to see their friend. After they’d each had their turn, I took each of them by the hand, and we trooped back to Bryce and Van’s bedroom.
Without saying a word, I took the boy’s jackets off and hung them by the door. Then I led them to the bed, sat them on the side of it, and removed their shoes and socks. Standing them up again, I had them lift their shirts, then I undid and lowered their pants to their ankles, before lifting their shirts off. The clothes were getting stacked aside on Van’s little chair. I slid Scooter’s Sesame Street undies down his legs to rest with his jeans, then did the same for Van’s tighty whities. With both boys nearly bare, I picked them up and sat them on the side of the bed again, allowing me to easily take their pants and briefs the rest of the way off. Once they were naked, I sat them back on their feet, then folded the covers on the bed back.
At that point, I rested a hand on the back of each boy’s neck and led them over to the spanking chair. I took my seat, then looked at them for a moment. They were very cute. Well, Scooter is cute. Van’s a pretty nice looking boy, but his baby fat is mostly gone, so he’s not really a little cutie anymore. Scooter on the other hand can’t be called anything else BUT cute (maybe adorable).
Scooter’s coloring is very much like all his brothers, except Riley. He has brownish-blond hair, which his mother says will be solid blond by the end of the summer, with blue eyes. At that time, his hair was hanging in bangs nearly to his eyes. His nose actually looks small for his face, but it has a cute little knob on the end. His most prominent feature right then was his big ears which, like Bryce and my brother Ben, stood at very distinct angles from his head. I’m sure he’d be getting some teasing about it and probably hear some Dumbo jokes the next time Disney re-releases that, but I think it’s cute. His best feature, at least when he wasn’t about to get spanked, is a big, cheerful grin that makes you think the world must be a pretty good place. Unlike Van, Scooter hadn’t outgrown all his baby fat; he still had a little outward swell to his belly and I’d already noticed that he had a very round little bottom.
Both of them still were very little boys who were used to being bathed by a parent, and, from what Kim had said, Scooter shared the bathtub with Donny probably more often than Van did with Bryce. Neither one of them were shy at all, even though they’d never seen each other undressed before, as far as I knew. Both of them showed they were smart boys with their priorities in order, since they were ignoring their little peters, so they could hold both hands behind them, covering those soon to be blazing little bottoms.
"You two should both know that parents don’t make rules just to be mean. Parents make rules for two reasons," I said, reaching out to place a hand on their shoulders. "That’s to help you learn how to behave when you grow up, and to keep you safe."
I’d been looking at both of them, but now I turned to Scooter. I moved my hand from his shoulder to his head and ran it through his hair, then nestled the back of his head in my palm. "Now Scott, I don’t expect the kid’s friends to know all our rules here. However, you were standing right there when I told Van that y’all couldn’t go to your house, weren’t you?"
The little guys eyes were already shiny with unshed tears, but he nodded as he answered, "Yes, sir."
"And your mom told you to mind me just like you would her, didn’t she?"
He nodded again.
"Do you know what happens to little boys that don’t mind in this house, Scooter?"
"They get spanked," he answered, his voice nearly breaking.
"And what happens to little boys that don’t mind at your house."
"They get spanked," he said again, almost starting to sob.
"So what do you think is going to happen to you and Van."
"You’re gonna s-sp-spank us," he replied through a real sob, as a tear rolled down his face.
"Van, can Scooter use Spanky Bear?"
"Yes, Daddy," Van answered, barely controlling himself better than his little friend was.
"Then go get it and the bare cub."
Van reached down and took Scott’s hand, then led the other boy to his dresser. Van picked up the bare cub, then handed the spanky bear to Scooter and, still holding hands, walked back to stand in front of me. Van handed me the paddle, which I tucked under my leg, then he turned to Scott.
"Just hug Spanky Bear real tight, and he won’t let you put your hands on your bottom, so they don’t get hit. Okay?"
Tears were still sliding slowly down Scooter’s face, but he nodded his understanding.
"Scott, why don’t you put the bear down right here for a minute," I suggested, pointing to my left side. He complied, then I guided him to my right side, where I turned him to face slightly away from me. Van winced as he watched me pick his friend up by his hips and lay him across my lap.
Looking carefully at Scooter laying there, I decided to do something I’d not had a chance to do in a while. I ‘scooted’ him up my lap a bit further, so his hip was right against my belly, then I looked up at Van.
"C’mere, Van."
"Now?" the boy squeaked.
"Yes, now."
Van’s eyes had already been shinny and now they started to slowly overflow as he lost even the short reprieve he’d been expecting. Of course, the only times Van had ever been spanked with someone else, he’d been the one to go first, so he didn’t realize that he was actually getting off easier this way.
The boy stepped up to me, raised his arms a bit, and turned so I could put him over my lap. I lifted him and laid him carefully into position, adjusting him only slightly to line him up better with Scott.
With the boys in place, I slid the paddle from under my leg and let it rest against Scott’s bottom. I’m not sure I can describe the sound he made; a long, drawn-out ‘oh’ that was half-moan and half-sob, and I could feel his little chest start to go up and down as he must have started to softly cry.
When I reached over to softly rub the paddle across each of Van’s cheeks, I heard a soft sob escape him. The two boys were already on a razor’s edge of tension, and I didn’t want to draw this out too much, so I moved quickly to the next step.
"Van, can you pick up Spanky Bear so you can both hold him?"
"I think so, Daddy."
I leaned to the side a bit as I felt the two of them shift, and watched as they each grabbed the bear. I couldn’t see what they were doing, but I heard Van say something and, after a moment, Spanky rose off the ground. As they were shifting and adjusting their grip on the bear, I took a moment to admire the little bottoms before me.
Both Van’s little cheeks were round enough that there was more separation at the top and bottom than in the center, which gave him a very distinct smile. His cheeks were full enough that, even with his legs hanging towards the ground, the lower slope of them - the ‘sit spots - were still distinct.
With his baby fat, Scottie’s bottom wasn’t as defined as Van’s, but it was still very cute. Scott didn’t have even slight dimples like Van did. Even though his little cheeks didn’t separate like Van’s did, his bottom was still firm enough that the upper and lower slopes were even better defined than Van’s.
I lifted the paddle from Van’s bottom and ran my hand over both little bottoms. They were warm and soft, but even Scooter’s chubby bottom was still nicely firm. I gave each cheek a slow, gentle squeeze, causing each boy to flinch at first, afraid that the spanking was about to start. Finally, I realized they were holding still and decided they must have the bear situated, and I asked "Are you two ready?"
Van quickly responded, "Not yet."
I gave him another second, and, before I could start to wander if he was just delaying, he twisted around just a bit and his left arm came up behind him, then he settled back down, letting the arm lay so it was around Scottie’s shoulders.
Even as I smiled to myself at the gesture of support and affection, I moved the paddle back to Scott’s bottom for a couple of soft pats, then I went to work. I lifted the paddle from Scott’s backside and brought it smacking down on Van’s. First the left cheek, then the right.
Van sobbed as the first swat caught him by surprise, but took the second one a little better. Not knowing what was going on, Scott yelped loud when the next two swats came down on his little left cheek. I then gave Van two on his left cheek.
From what Kim had told me, I knew Scott was used to hand spankings. Having seen her spank, I had no doubt that he’d be able to take the paddling, but he was younger and smaller than Van, and I wanted Van to get more smacks, but also wanted to seem to keep things even.
Two more swats for each boy, to their right cheeks this time. Scott really began to cry, as I placed two swats right down the center of his bottom, and Van was sobbing and yelping loud as I ran three swats down his crack. Scott wailed as the paddle cracked down once on the highest part of each of his legs, and Van began to really cry hard when I popped the paddle down on the same place for him.
It was easy to tell that both boys had a death grip on poor Spanky. I was holding Van firmly by his waist, keeping him pressed up against Scooter, and Scooter pressed right up against my belly, so there literally wasn’t any wiggle-room for them. Still, they were managing to shake their little bottoms around a bit, tensing and bucking with the little space they had. Both of them were kicking their legs, though Van’s feet were kicking up and down from the knees, while it was more like Scott was trying to jerk his feet away from something. Van was mostly just crying, but Scottie was begging me to stop and I think he was promising that he’d never walk again, though I might have misunderstood that through the sobs.
Though I was barely using any forearm, both soft, sensitive little bottoms were already rosy as I started to repeat the pattern with a single swat placed in the very center of each of Van’s cheeks. I was going back and forth between them for each swat now, except a few extras I snuck in for Van. One on the upper part of Scott’s left cheek, then one for Van’s, then back to put one on the lower part of Scott’s left cheek. Back and forth again for the right cheek, but then I gave Van an extra at the very top of his crack. One at the top of Scooter’s crack, then one in the very center of Van’s bottom and that was the one that pushed him over the edge. He suddenly quit kicking, the tension went out of his body, and he was howling in release.
It was almost like Scott had just been waiting for the cue, because he did the same thing with the next swat. One more swat for Van finished the pattern, except their legs. After a second’s pause, I decided to skip the legs and gave Scott, then Van, two extra firm swats right on each sit spot, back and forth between the two, then gave Scott a final swat right on smile, right over his little hole, and finished it by giving Van two more in the same place.
As soon as the last smacks had landed, I slid the paddle back beneath my leg and lifted both boys up as one. As soon as they realized they were on their feet, Spanky Bear hit the ground and the two of them began to do a very spirited fire dance. It would have been hilarious if not for the misery on their little faces, but it was still irresistibly cute.
Before they were finished, I spread my legs wide, grabbed them both, and pulled them into a hug. I reached down and softly rubbed the two blazing tails, freeing their hands to hug me and each other. After a minute of that, I picked them both up and carried them to the bed. I couldn’t sit them down very carefully, and Van yelped as his bottom touched the mattress. With one arm free, I was able to put Scotty face down, then I helped Van, who was too sore to move quick, down beside him.
I pulled the sheet up, carefully draping it over the two red tales, then gave them each a kiss and sat beside them while they cried themselves to sleep.
About thirty minutes later, the Risk game had finally finished (Tim had nearly conquered the work, but Ryan had managed to hold on in Australia and come back for a win), and I was standing in the kitchen, fixing a snack. Tim made a shocked sound, something that might have been ‘Wow!’ and I turned to look at Scooter strolling into the kitchen, his face still tear-stained and naked as a jaybird. As he had come around the corner, he’d given a good view of a bottom that wasn’t red anymore, but was still a very distinct, light rose.
"Jack?"
"Yeah, sweetheart?"
"Can I get up now, or do I have to stay in bed?"
"If you’re ready to get up, you can. Is Van awake?"
"He’s still sleepin’."
"Well, why don’t we get you cleaned up then, and you can get dressed. Do you want something to drink?"
He nodded, so I got him a small glass of ice water. As he drank, we talked about minding and safety for a minute, then I gave him a hug. Since I had my hands full making snacks, I asked Tim to take him to the bathroom and help him wash his face. Tim has always had a bit of a mouth on him, and, even though he behaves with his parents, it seems like he either doesn’t understand the difference between funny and rude, that he wanted to see how far he could push me, or maybe that he just thinks of me as one of the guys. Whatever it was, when he came back into the kithcen a few minutes later, with a now clothed Scooter in tow, it seemed like he was looking at me with a new respect; or, at least with a little nervousness.
It wasn’t much longer before Van came wandering in for the same treatment, and, when he went off to dress, he took Scooter in tow for more play, safely confined to the playroom this time.
When Kim stopped by to pick up the boys that afternoon, Scooter nervously told her about his spanking. She chewed him out briefly, then asked if he’d learned his lesson.
"Yes, Mama. Jack spanks really hard."
"Well, you should be glad he cares about you. Tell him thank you and bye-bye."
The boy turned to me, but he had his own agenda to deal with first.
"Jack?" he asked, suddenly shy. "Van says that Gordy and Dex call you ‘Uncle Jack’, even though you’re not really their uncle.
"That’s true, kiddo," I answered. "Uncles are really your mom or dad’s brother, but sometimes, if a kid really likes a grown-up, he might call him Uncle, even though he’s not really, just to show that they’re really close."
The boy went red as I told him this and he was suddenly fascinated by the toes of his shoes, but he finally managed to spit it out. "Would it be okay if I called you Uncle Jack?"
"Of course it would, sweetheart."
And it didn’t take long until I was ‘Uncle Jack’ to the whole Malone clan.