Ryan and Derek Hunter

I should launch into a lengthy explanation of Magic: the Gathering, how it developed, and how it became a central part of my business. I’ll spare you that (and if you’re interested, you can always check our forum for details). Instead, I’ll just say that Magic represented a sea change in the gaming business, and it allowed me to do things I’d never considered before.

The biggest change I made was in beginning to run tournaments at the store on a regular basis. I’ve never actually made money on the tournaments. Instead, I charge an entry fee, and the entry fee covers my cost on the prizes that I give, making it a great deal for the players. Instead, I sell snacks, and the increased traffic increases my sales on related merchandise, so it’s a great deal for me, too. It has an even better benefit, though.

I ran my first Magic tourney in 1993, and I’ve run them regularly since 1994. During that time, many of my regular players have been in the 11 to 15 range, the range I consider boys to be at their most beautiful and most spankable. I’ve become friends with many of those boys, have been able to talk to some of them about spanking, and have even spanked a few of them. After all, the tourneys would run four or five hours, with the boys (a few girls have played over the years, but not many) often showing up early and staying late to visit with their friends and trade cards or practice and build new decks.

I’d always had a regular group of Magic players that had slowly grown, but when I started running the tourneys and advertising them around town, I suddenly had more than twice as many players. An average week was nearly 30. It was a lot of fun. There were some that would come occasionally, some fairly regularly, and some were there pretty much every week.

Two of my regulars were Ryan and Derek Hunter. I think the first tournament they attended was my New Year’s Eve overnighter. Derek had just turned 10 that month, and Ryan wouldn’t be 12 for about another eight weeks. I’ll admit here that I feel in love with Ryan almost right away and never changed my mind. He was tall for his age, 5’ or a little more, but lean. He probably weighed about 95 pounds, and was nice and firm (I later learned he was an avid soccer player and ran on a regular basis). He had dark hair and blue eyes. His face was lean, with high cheek bones, a straight, not quite too long nose, and a strong, dimpled chin. He wore black, wire-framed glasses, and his hair hung down over his forehead. Ryan was quiet, usually polite, and could talk to me about books. His parents were pretty strict about TV and video games, so he read a lot.

In a lot of ways, Derek was the opposite of his brother. He was also tall for his age (maybe 4’8"), but wasn’t as lean as his brother. Not that Derek was fat, but at 80 pounds, he had closer to a football player’s build. He had very light blond hair—the type you expected to go brown as he reached his teens, but it never did. It wasn't just on his head, though. Where Ryan's arms were smooth, Derek's had a light fuzz of that silky blond hair. His eyebrows were nearly black, though. He had the same blue eyes as his big brother, but had a shorter, wider nose, rounder face, and a darker skin-tone. He could be a nice kid at times and wasn’t stupid, but he didn’t really enjoy reading; and he was neither as quiet, nor as polite as Ryan.

The boys had been coming to the tournaments every week for about a month when I first had real trouble with them. The two of them got along like cats and dogs; they could be friends, but every once in a while, they had to make a display. I’d talked to them about it before, but on this one particular Saturday afternoon, about the end of January or first of February, we were having a spell of bad weather, everyone had been stuck inside for a week, no one was in a good mood, and I’d had to call them down several times. I was pretty put out with them by the time their father showed up to take them home.

Mr. Hunter was a nice guy. He worked construction and it showed. He was maybe an inch below average height, but he looked about like a brick wall. The first time I’d met him, it became obvious that Derek got his looks from his dad, while Ryan took after their mom. Mr. Hunter would always come in and say hello to me, and often would buy the boys a little something before they left.

As always, Mr. Hunter came up to me and asked, "How’d everything go today?"

Both boys had already made a beeline over to me and were now nervously awaiting my answer. Ryan had a habit of running his hand under his shirt to rub his belly, letting me know he wore briefs—usually, but not always, Fruit of the Loom. He began to do that as he awaited my answer. Both boys cringed when I replied, "Honestly, it would have been a lot better if I’d had a tranquilizer gun for these two."

Unlike Derek, Mr. Hunter had dark hair and he wore a thick, somewhat shaggy beard. When he turned to look at his sons, it made me nervous. I hate to think about how it affected them.

"And what, exactly, were they up to this time?"

I explained what had happened throughout the day. The constant sniping at each other, even during tournament matches, the wrestling match that had broken out, the chasing around, and the name calling that had continued after I told them to settle down and watch their language. Derek blushed at that, since he was the one who’d gone over the line.

"Are they banned from the store?" Mr. Hunter asked me. Both of them looked really worried, like that hadn’t occurred to them before.

"No," I assured him, much to the boys’ obvious relief. "If I banned for that, I wouldn’t be able to bring my own son up here." Mr. Hunter had met Steve before and just nodded. "Of course, when Steve acts like that, he gets a good spanking when we get home," I added, hoping to get a little feedback. Both boys cringed, and Mr. Hunter didn’t disappoint me.

"Believe me, they’ll both be getting that."

I’d hoped for more details, but Mr. Hunter made the boys apologize, he said goodbye and the three of them left.



The next Saturday, I’d opened the store and was getting things set up for the day’s tournament. It was still early and only a couple of my regulars were there so far, testing new decks on one of the side tables. There was nothing to distract me right then, so I noticed Mr. Hunter leading his two rapscallions in. He looked around for a second, then came straight over to me.

Mr. Hunter and I shook hands, then he indicated that the boys had something to say to me. Ryan started it off.

"We’re really sorry that we acted so bad last week, Jack," Ryan informed me.

"Yeah, and we promise we’ll try really hard to be good," Derek continued.

"We understand if you don’t want to let us come in anymore; but Dad spanked us last week and we promise we learned our lesson."

"Yeah," Derek added, "and he spanked really hard, too. Please can we come back?"

Before I could answer, Mr. Hunter stepped in. "Don’t you have something else to say, boys?"

Both boys went into turbo blush. With his fairer skin, it was more blatant on Ryan, but both of them were glowing as they went on.

"Dad says that if we’re going to spend so much time up here, we gotta remember that it’s your store and you’re in charge," Derek supplied.

"And since Steve is only a little older than me…" His voice trailed off and he looked back at his dad, who just nodded at him. "You can tell Dad when we act up if you want, but if you think we need it, you can spank us."

Ryan’s eyes hit the ground when he said that. Derek watched him for a minute, then finished. "Dad always pulls our pants and shorts off when he spanks us, and he says you can too, if you think we need it."

After admitting that, he suddenly became as interested in his shoes as Ryan was. I looked at their dad, but it was he who spoke.

"I think that says it all, Jack. If they’re going to be up here, you need to be able to control them. You said you weren’t going to ban them from the store; but it’s not fair for you to have to supervise them so much, but not be able to keep them from messing things up for you and the other customers. Their mom’s not real happy about it, but I talked to a couple of people that know you, and I can tell by watching you with your son that you must be pretty fair with him."

I nodded my acceptance, both of the permission and of the compliment. Then I stepped around so I could pat both boys on the shoulder.

"Well, if we need to, that’s what’ll happen then; but I’m pretty sure you guys won’t need me to do that; will you?"

Both of them hastened to assure me that they wouldn’t. Their dad paid their entrance fee, gave them some lunch money, and took off. I gave each boy a squeeze on the shoulder and turned them towards the tables. "For now, how about we work on tuning your decks a bit?



I’m not going to say that Ryan and Derek were little angels that day. Ryan was very polite, but was obviously embarrassed and a bit withdrawn, beyond his normal shyness. Derek was on his best behavior (and with some kids, you just have to accept that what they can do might not be angelic). The next week, Derek was still on his best behavior, but Ryan was back to being his normally quiet, but friendly and polite self. The next week, Ryan and Derek were both acting their normal selves. That was good with Ryan, and tolerable with Derek. When I started running a business that attracted a lot of kids, I knew I’d have to put up with certain kinds of trouble. As long as they weren’t bothering the other customers or breaking things, I didn’t pay it too much attention.

Those were pretty nice weeks, actually. At that point, Magic was pretty hot and I had to move around, talk to the different customers, and sometimes help with the rest of the store. Still, every week, Ryan and I made time to play a game, or maybe just talk about it. Steve would sit with us sometimes and he’d give Ryan hints, or we’d take one of our decks apart to show Ryan how we constructed them. Steve wasn’t a fantastic player, but for someone who’d barely turned 13, he was pretty hot. I know Ryan had a good family; it was obvious he loved and respected his dad, was a bit of a mama’s boy, and even liked his big brother, though Tim was nowhere near as intellectual as Ryan and something of a trouble maker. Still, Ryan loved spending those little bits of time with me and sometimes Steve. Even though he wasn’t into comics, he was a great kid and we had a lot in common. (I later learned that Ryan’s only uncles didn’t live nearby, so I think I might have been filling that roll for him - an adult who cared for him, was responsible for him, but wasn’t the prime disciplinarian, so he could afford to relax a little with me around).

Even when Derek and Ryan started sniping again, I ignored it. They weren’t bad and, while, because of our age difference, I’d not had much trouble with my little brothers, I’d seen them go at it enough to know that a lot of that was just a way of saying ‘I love you’, in boyese. For that matter, even though Jason and Chris were ‘just’ Steve’s cousins, they went at it the same way. And honestly, Ryan had just turned 12 the past week and deserved a little break. No, it wasn’t until the maybe the second weekend of March that the two of them went overboard again.



"Are you all right, Scott?" I asked the man who’d just been plowed into by a running Derek, who’d been more concerned about his brother catching him than who might be in front of him. Scott was obviously a little ticked, but assured me he was, so I turned my attention to the two chagrined boys standing nearby, nearly at attention.

"You two help Scott pick up his cards, then we’re going to go have a talk."

Both of them blushed a deep red at the threat implied more by my tone than my words, but obediently bent down, carefully picked up the cards, handed them back to Scott, and cheerlessly followed me into the back room.

As the store grew busier and I’d hired more help, I’d renovated the back room, then changed things again when we started selling snacks and running magic tournaments. The bathrooms were now easy to reach and well-labeled; I’d moved the work area to the back of the store, next to the warehouse, and divided it from the publicly accessible area; I’d put in a real break room; and I now had an actual office with real walls, and which was soundproofed by the warehouse and a more general storage area. It was there that I led the boys, who stared around a bit nervously at being led to the most isolated part of the store.

"I seem to recall me having to report something like this to your father before, boys. What did you tell me then?"

"We promised we’d behave?" Ryan replied, in a questioning tone; like he was hoping, but not really expecting, that was the answer I wanted.

I was silent for a moment, so Derek took a stab at it. "We told you that Dad spanked us for acting up." He suggested, so I turned my gaze to him. Finally, when I thought I’d have to take the next step, Ryan admitted the truth we’d all been awaiting—me with anticipation, them with dread.

"We told you that Dad said it’d be okay for you to spank us if we acted up anymore."

"I’ve tried to give you guys a break. I’ve tried to understand that you’re here to have fun, and that you have a lot of energy built up, sitting here playing. However, I’ve also warned you, this week and last, that you were getting out of hand. The truth is that neither one of you is a kindergarten kid, and you should know better than to be running around inside like that." I paused to glare at both of them for a minute. "Shouldn’t you?"

They both nodded, and Ryan added a ‘yes, sir.’

"Now, before you ask, I’m not going to ban you from the store. I like both of you," I looked at Ryan and caught his eyes, "a lot; but I do expect you to behave. If you can’t remember to behave, I’ll give you a reason to remember."

Both boys winced at that pronouncement, and Derek’s hands stole behind him to gently rub his little rear, like it was already hot and throbbing.

"The only excuse you have is that you honestly didn’t realize you were misbehaving by doing that. If you can look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t know you shouldn’t have been doing that, then I won’t spank you."

Derek’s eyes came up, bright and full of sudden hope, forgetting that he‘d already admitted he knew he shouldn‘t have been running inside. Ryan looked up as well, but he was shaking his head, and his mouth was already open to admit his guilt. Before either of them could speak, I cut them off.

"If you tell me that, then I’ll just call your dad to come get you early, and I’ll tell him why, and let him decide what to do with you."

Derek’s face fell, as he realized that it had all been false hope. I think he would have struggled a few moments with the idea of delaying the punishment, maybe hoping to get hit by a car or something to get out of it completely. Ryan ruined even that faint hope for him by saying, "We knew better, Jack. We just forgot. Dad’d spank us, so you should go ahead."

I reached out to place my hand on Ryan’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze, then told him, "Thank you for being honest with me, Ryan. I know you’re probably very nervous right now, and it’s brave of you to admit it."

From the corner of my eye, I was able to see Derek’s grimace as I told that to Ryan, and it became obvious to me that there was a jealousy problem there; and, since Derek hadn’t had time to do the math yet, he might have been a bit angry at his brother for taking his chance to avoid a spanking away from him. I’m sure Derek would have come around in time, though. In boys, even as they grow older, there’s an unconscious belief that their dad is the best at everything. While they normally think things like ‘my dad can beat up your dad,’ for most boys, a corollary was that their dad also gave the worst spankings. That might have even factored into Ryan’s decision.

Either way, the decision was made and I went to work. A straight-backed, armless chair sat by itself in a corner of the room, and I pulled it into an open area before taking a seat.

"Both of you, right here," I instructed them, pointing at the floor right in front of me. As soon as they were in position, I went on. "Shirts up."

With a little confusion, they both lifted their shirts. Derek grabbed his shirt by the side and lifted it a bit. Ryan ran his hand under his shirt like he usually did to rub his belly, then his left hand joined it, and he ended up with both hands resting on his undeveloped pecs, lifting the shirt above his chest in front, though it drooped about halfway down in back. I took Derek’s hands and lifted them up a bit more, so his hands were in his armpits, and his little, pink nipples were exposed. Then I lowered my hands and started to undo his fly.

Derek flinched away from me and yelped. Ryan dropped his shirt enough to punch his brother in the arm. "Ryan!" I warned him. He grimaced, but put both hands back on his shirt.

"Come here, Derek," I said, pointing right where he’d been.

"Why?" the younger boy asked plaintively.

"Because I’m going to bare your bottom for a spanking."

"Dad always lets us take our own clothes off," he informed me.

"I’m not your dad. If you want him to handle your spanking…." I let the threat drift off. He stood there for a minute, then glanced at his brother. I saw Ryan nod, and Derek finally, very reluctantly, stepped back up where he’d been.

Derek’s eyes scrunched shut as I opened his pants and slid them down to his ankles, but he looked down when he didn’t feel my hands on his briefs. Instead, I’d turned to Ryan. I’d noticed Ryan watching with interest as I undid his brother’s clothes, and he watched the same way as I undid his, but now Derek was watching also. When Ryan’s pants came down, both boys were bare from chest to ankles, except for their briefs. Both boys were wearing snowy white Fruit of the Looms. Maybe their mom (or dad) was great at laundry, but considering that both boys were fitted snug, but not tight, I suspected they’d both had the undies foisted off as Christmas gifts.

I leaned back to enjoy the view for a moment, and covered it with a brief lecture. "Didn’t your dad just spank you for almost this same thing, just a few weeks ago?"

Derek looked like he wanted to argue that it had been longer than just a few weeks, but Ryan answered ‘yes, sir’, so Derek echoed him. The poor kid looked aggrieved; his complaints seemed to always be undercut by his more obedient and accepting older brother.

"Did he just spank you, or did he talk to you about why you were getting spanked?"

"He lectured us," Ryan answered.

"Yeah," Derek added, "he chews us out real good before he spanks us."

"Do you mostly remember what he said?"

They both thought about it a moment, then nodded.

"Then you should already know that different places have different rules. It might be okay to do things when you’re outside or in your own room, but it’s misbehaving to do them other places. Right?"

They both nodded again, and Ryan added a quiet ‘yes, sir’ that Derek echoed.

"Good. Then I guess I just need to remind you what happens to boys who misbehave."

Before he had a chance to react, I leaned forward, grabbed the waistband of Derek’s briefs, and slid them down his legs. Derek’s hands started to come down, but I grabbed his wrists and lifted them back up. He didn’t resist, so I turned back to Ryan. He looked up at the ceiling, as if praying for a respite or strength. When he felt my hands at his waist, he looked back down, blushing as his briefs rode down his smooth, firm legs.

Neither boy was very well developed. Derek was still definitely a little boy, with a thick, tight, white little sack, and his penis barely jutting out at all. Ryan’s sac, on the other hand, was looser and reddish, and the balls definitely weren’t a little boy’s anymore. However, despite a few dark hairs that were starting to grow at the upper base, looking almost like down on a boy’s lip, his peter didn’t look any bigger than that of an 8 or 10 year old.

Derek only seemed mildly bothered by his nudity, but Ryan seemed to be in agony, as if he was waiting for me to tease him. Instead, I reached over, took Derek by the hips, and led him around to my side, then over my lap.

Derek had a perfect little bottom, firm, but full. There was plenty of curve from his back to his legs, and the upper cheeks nearly formed a McDonald’s arch. The lowest part of the cheeks was a big smile, and he even had a little hip, providing some width. He tensed up going over my lap, showing off just a hint of dimples. I began to rub his bottom softly, coaxing him into relaxing.

As I tried to soothe Derek, I tensed him up at the same time. "Since you’re dad uses his hand, that’s how I’m going to start. However, your dad is bigger than me…" I stopped at an incredulous glare from Ryan. "Stronger than me. If I don’t think that my hand does a good enough job, then there’s a paddle in the bottom drawer of my desk. It’s up here to help Steve remember to behave, but I think it will work just fine on you two, if we need it."

Ryan winced with that pronouncement, but Derek seemed not to have heard it. The rubbing on his back and bottom had soothed him into a relaxed state, and the only warning he had that his spanking had started was my hand briefly rising from his rear.

I got the idea that their father was one of those guys who swung for distance. Derek didn’t seem bothered at all as my first smacks fell. Glancing up at Ryan, I saw he actually looked relieved. As the spanking kept going, the relief faded from Ryan’s face, and Derek began to squirm and gasp, his feet kicking in small but rapid arcs. His little bottom slowly reddened from pink, to rose, to true red, and I just kept going. I didn’t ignore his legs, but made sure all the spank area, from the top slopes of his rear, down a hand’s space or more onto his legs, and from hip to hip, and even into the inner thighs, all got plenty of attention.

As the boy’s bottom darkened past red, I realized he’d been crying awhile, but softly, quietly. I must have pushed him past his limits, his endurance, because it was quickly growing harder and louder. That was what I’d been awaiting, and I removed my left arm from around his waist. Laying my forearm against the small of his back to apply a little downward pressure, I gripped his left cheek in my left hand and pulled, straightening the slope from bottom to leg and making the skin tight as a drum. Then I slowly placed five very firm swats right on the sit spot, resulting in some suddenly wild and energetic squirming. He was too sore to put a lot of strength into it, and my arm was able to hold him in place. Before switching to his right cheek, I pulled him back into position. While his struggles didn’t slow me, I did have to pause long enough to pin his right hand with my left elbow, before I repeated those final swats.

Derek was bawling when I helped him to sit up. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders, but he didn’t seem interested in a hug, so I let him stand. With one hand rubbing his bottom, he carefully bent down to retrieve his briefs.

"Leave those where they are and no rubbing. Get your shirt back up."

"Why?" he asked, nearly begged, in a plaintive tone.

"Mainly because I told you so, but especially because I’ve not decided if I’m going to paddle you or not, so you sure don’t want to disobey me right now."

Miserably, the little boy gripped the lower hem of his shirt with both hands and lifted it to leave himself standing practically nude again. I’m sure he was trying to convince his abused bottom that it was better to skip a rub now than have a fresh, probably worse, reason to rub in a few minutes.

As soon as I was sure Derek was going to mind, I switched my attention to his big brother. Ryan didn’t look much less miserable than Derek did and his eyes were already shiny with unshed tears. I reached out and took his wrist, and he didn’t resist as I guided him across my lap.

This is always a hard moment for me with boys I really like. I’d wanted to have Ryan like this since the first time I’d talked to him, maybe since I’d first seen him. I would have been happy for it to be more playful, but I wanted him bare bottomed and over my lap. Now, as much as I looked forward to this, I was afraid that it would ruin the good relationship that I had with him. I had permission to do this and he knew he deserved it, but I was still scared that his fear or resentment or embarrassment would come between us, would keep him away from the store. Still, it was a little late to consider that now since his brother had already been spanked, and I put the thoughts aside.

After patting his bottom a minute, I slid my fingers between Ryan’s legs. "Spread those; boy, you’re old enough to know how to take a spanking. Bend your knees a bit." Near placidly, Ryan followed my instructions until he was in perfect position. He was tall enough that his hands were braced against the floor, but his toes were barely brushing it.

I gave him a brief rub and had to admit that, even though I cared for Ryan much more than Derek, his bottom was nowhere near as nice as his little brother’s. Ryan’s bottom had a bit of backward sway to it, but not much width and his dimples were pronounced. In surface area, it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that Derek had just as much bottom or even a little more. Still, Ryan was a bit too muscular to be flat and its very firmness was pleasing in a way.

The examination was very brief, but Ryan had already seen my style, and he tensed as soon as my hand came up. I lowered it and rubbed again. "Ryan," I told him, "I don’t expect you to be able to control yourself for the entire spanking, but we haven’t even started yet. Unless you want me get up and get the paddle right now, you relax your cheeks and keep them relaxed." It took a moment, but he did manage to force the tension away and stay limp as my hand came up again.

Ryan quickly realized that I’d gone pretty easy on his brother. I only wonder if he’d be surprised to learn that I was still holding plenty in reserve. Maybe he’d thought I wouldn’t be able to carry out two long spankings like this and he was going to get off easy (and wouldn’t he be surprised to learn that I’d recently given a 20 year old friend of mine a 20-minute hand spanking for his birthday). Ryan stayed very still, almost docile, barely jerking as his bottom started traveling through shades of red. His only real movement was little jerks of his feet and shoulders as each smack rained down.

I glanced up at Derek, who was mesmerized by his brother’s punishment, and realized he might have had an ulterior motive for wanting to pull up his briefs. His little boyhood was standing at attention, and I realized he wasn’t much bigger than when he’d been soft. He couldn’t have been longer than 1 ½ inches and wasn’t as thick as my pinky. He was so cute that I fumbled the rhythm of Ryan’s spanking. I don’t think either of them noticed, but I turned my attention back to business.

I’d heard Ryan start to gasp, then sob as the swats landed, but looking back down at him, I think he must have been silently crying, judging by the way his back was shaking. The quiet didn’t last long though, and as his bottom neared dark red, he began to cry aloud, though not as hard as Derek had done.

When I moved my hand to grip his left bottom cheek, Ryan’s hand came up behind him, even as he protested, "No," in a weak, watery voice that was more plea than command.

"Move that right now, Ryan," I said in a quiet but unmistakably serious voice. The hand hesitated a moment, then crept back to the floor. Six hard smacks to each side had him crying every bit as loud as Derek had done, but he hadn’t gone over the edge yet, so I wrapped my arm back around his waist and delivered six more swats to each sit spot; not as hard, but rapid fire, and back and forth between each cheek. That did the job, and the boy was bawling as the last few landed.

I helped Ryan sit up, expecting him to go right to his feet, but his arms suddenly clung to my neck, so I held him for a moment, letting him cry against my shoulder, before pushing him to his feet.

Without having to be told, Ryan’s hands avoided his bottom and lifted his shirt back up. Derek was still like that, and the two wet-faced boys made quite a sight. I only wish I’d had a mirror behind them so I could have enjoyed the full view. Neither of them was worried about their front, and after a brief reminder of how I expected them to behave, I announced, to their great joy, that I wasn’t going to use the paddle and that they could rub.

The announcement was followed by a brief fire dance—not all that spectacular for Derek, for whom much of the burn must have already faded, but Ryan did an impressive job, and they both indulged in quite a bit of rubbing before they finally dressed.

With instructions to clean up before coming out, I preceded them.

The two of them took longer than I’d expected to come out. I have the feeling they were standing by the door, dreading the idea of coming into the open, sure that every person there knew or had even heard everything that had happened (I‘m sure Steve would have guessed easily enough, but he was at his mom‘s house that weekend). They did finally come out, though, only to find themselves completely ignored. It looked like Derek was a little put out that no one had even noticed. I was filling out the paperwork for the tournament matches that had finished while we’d been busy, but there were still a few matches going on, so we weren’t even ready to start the next round.

The two of them went back to their cards, sat—very carefully—and began to straighten their decks for the next round.



Would you believe that Ryan and Derek were very well behaved the next week? And the week after that? I think it was the third week when Ryan came by himself. He informed me with ill-hidden glee that they were required to finish their chores before coming to the tournaments on Saturday. Not having finished his, Derek had decided to lie about it. Around the time Ryan’s mom was dropping him off, Derek was probably just getting up from his dad’s lap. Somehow, I had the feeling that Ryan was able to live with his brother’s misfortune.

I think it was the middle of April, the next time we had trouble. Ryan had seemed particularly tense that morning, or maybe just irritated about something. Whatever the cause, I noticed that he was a bit harsher with his little brother than I was used to seeing from him. The trouble I’d normally seen with them was just brotherly banter that got out of hand. This time, it was all Ryan, and he didn’t seem friendly about it. I spoke to him a couple of times, trying to distract him, giving him a chance to talk about anything that was bothering him, or just trying to separate them. The only thing it did was to get Ryan to move his torment undercover.

The tournament was almost halfway through, and both of them had finished their games early. Derek had gone over to the arcade (which was really just a separate area of the store) and was playing one of the machines when Ryan came up behind him and frogged the other boy in the shoulder. That was my limit and I walked over there.

"Quit the game, Derek, and you two come with me. We need to have a little talk."

Ryan looked a bit surprised, not realizing I’d been keeping an eye on him, but he turned to go with me, looking almost resigned. Derek, on the other hand, looked a little panicky. "But I didn’t do anything," he assured me.

"I didn’t ask if you did, Derek. I told you to come on, unless you want me to call your father."

Miserably, tears already building in his eyes, Derek followed us back to my office.

As soon as we were there, I began to read the riot act to Ryan. He was cringing before I was half finished, and tears were slowly dripping down his cheeks when I came to the point.

"I don’t know what your problem is today, Ryan; but I do know this isn’t like you. I gave you more than one chance to straighten your act, but you didn’t want to and now you’re going to pay the price. Get your shirt up."

Derek stood by, obviously enjoying the chance to hear his brother getting reamed, but not understanding why he was there. Nervously, wincing, and probably wondering the same thing as his brother, Ryan obeyed me, but the shirt stopped for a second at half mast for him to give his belly a rub before he raised it up his chest.

I leaned forward and undid his jeans, lowering them to his ankles, then leaned back and looked at Derek.

"I don’t know what’s wrong, but I do know that Ryan’s been picking on you all day, Derek. I want you both to understand that I don’t tolerate that. He’s here to be punished for it. Since he’s been picking on you, part of his punishment is that you get to watch."

"Now," I continued, "your father and I have both spanked you. Do we spank pretty much the same way?"

"Pretty much," Derek answered. "He spanks harder than you do, but you spank a lot longer."

"From what I remember last time, I think I still got through to both of you pretty well, didn’t I?"

Derek grimaced at the memory, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Ryan flinch. "Yes, sir," Derek admitted.

"But do your father or I either one spank on a boy’s underwear?"

"No, sir. You both spank our bare butts."

‘That means Ryan’s not quite ready for his spanking yet. Would you like to get him ready for me?"

"Me?" Derek squeaked, at almost the same time Ryan said, "Jack…!" The older boy cut off when I shot him a quick glare. He looked on the verge of protesting further, but I looked towards the desk, and he obviously recalled what waited in that drawer and decided it wasn’t worth arguing. I nodded at Derek, who stepped over to the other boy and knelt down in front of him. Ryan flinched again as Derek slipped his fingers into the waistband of his briefs, but didn’t try to escape or prevent him. Derek was nervous, and the unveiling was done in fits and starts, which probably made it even cuter to watch.

Apparently having his little brother kneeling in front of him as his undies came down was stimulating to Ryan in some way, because I realized that he had a boner. It was bigger than Derek’s but not much bigger—maybe more than two inches, but less than 2 ½. It wasn’t much thicker than a little boy’s, either; definitely less than you’d expect to go with the balls and traces of hair. Still, puberty works in different ways on different boys. The only part that didn’t seem especially small was the head, which had a pronounced flare for a little guy. Once Ryan’s Fruits were as low as they’d go, I had Derek step back and Ryan gratefully lowered himself across my lap.

The spanking started almost exactly as his last one had. I had to take a minute to get him to relax, but this time I had to repeat it, finally having to again threaten him with the paddle before he would keep in the position I wanted.

As his bottom started moving past pink, as the sting must have really been building, I realized he was tensed almost rock hard. I decided it wasn’t worth a fight, though. He stayed that way and quiet, not squirming or kicking at all, even as his bottom was darkening past red.

Finally, when I thought I was going to have to stop, Ryan broke. The tension ran out of him, he collapsed across my lap in a limp heap, and he began to cry—going from nothing to loud and hard in barely a gasp. It was then that I realized I didn’t know if they were ever punished in front of each other. I guess it’s one thing to allow yourself to cry when your brother is already bawling his eyes out even as you get ready to take your spanking, because the two of you are sharing a punishment. It must seem a totally different situation when your brother is watching you get spanked as part of your punishment.

When he started crying, I was already pretty happy with the color of his bottom, so I gave a few last swats, then turned my attention to the sit spots. Finally changing my routine from his last visit over my lap, I landed twelve swats, sharp and fast, to his sit spots, six back and forth to either side. He was screeching as he absorbed the heat, but not yet bawling. Much to his surprise and dismay, I took him by the hips and lifted him a bit further to my left. Then I separated his legs, and moved my right leg to hook around over his. Once that was done, I rested my right arm on his left leg, and took a firm grip around his waist with my left.

"Derek," I asked, having to speak up just a bit to be heard over Ryan’s crying. "Do you remember how I finished your spanking before?"

"You mean when you pulled my cheeks up and spanked?"

I nodded, then he nodded.

"Since Ryan was tormenting you, I want you to finish his spanking."

Derek needed no more encouragement, but Ryan began to struggle. In the position in which I held him, he couldn’t really do much, but I did have to grab his right hand and pin it to his waist.

Derek paused for one moment, until I nodded, then he grabbed a handful of his brother’s left nether cheek and pulled it tight. I moved my right hand just long enough to show him exactly where to place the smacks and told him "Six, right there." He did, and they were good, hard smacks.

As soon as he was finished with those, he did the right cheek. Ryan was bawling before Derek finished. As soon as the last swat had landed, I had Derek stand back and helped Ryan to his feet. He moved to lift his shirt, and I helped him stay upright with my arm around his waist.

"Do you think you can apologize to your brother now, or do you need to wait a bit?"

It took a few attempts and wasn’t real easy to understand, but he did manage to apologize.

"Derek, let’s give your brother a little time to get himself together." I handed him a quarter. "Go play your game again. Just remember, Ryan’s apologized, this all stays in here, and I’d better not hear about anything being said to anyone except your father about it. Understand?"

Derek recognized the implied threat and gave me his whole-hearted assurance that it was our secret.

As for Ryan, as soon as Derek was gone, I pulled him into a hug. Maybe his father wasn’t the affectionate type, but he ate it up, clinging hard to me as he tried to get his crying under control. I started off rubbing his back, but my hands, almost as if of their own volition, crept down to begin gently rubbing the sting from his burning cheeks. He didn’t mind, and I’m not sure how long we stayed like that. It was at least several minutes, and I finally broke away and had him dress so I could escort him back to the game room, stopping only to wash his face.

We talked a lot after that, and it turned out he’d been having some trouble with an ex-friend at school, and I could only assume his anger was being taken out on Derek. He not only apologized to me for acting up, but I even got another hug before he left that evening.



You’d think that would have been the end of it. You’d think that the two of them had explored all the trouble they could get into in a few hours at the store every week and decided it wasn’t good for their… well, if not for their health, at least their comfort. That’s what I thought, anyway, but I was wrong.

Steve didn’t play in the tournaments much. It didn’t seem fair since he was the owner‘s son, so he only played if we had an odd number. We didn’t that week, so he and I were playing for fun. It must have been about the middle of the day, and I glanced up right in time to see Ryan punch Derek in the arm. I’d seen it building all day and had thought about saying something, but I couldn’t believe it was happening again already. I excused myself from my son, walked over to the two brothers, and invited them back to my office. Ryan, who was looking extremely upset, tried to say something to me, but I told him he could wait until I’d had my say. Derek looked very pleased with himself as he got up to follow me.

As soon as I could get a seat in the spanking chair, I launched into my lecture. It wasn’t very hard to sound upset under the circumstances. I explained that, even if I’d not known both of them were reasonably intelligent, that I would still have been surprised at this kind of trouble just a week after Ryan had been spanked for the same thing. Ryan tried to interrupt me several times, but I didn’t need to hear what he had to say, so cut him off.

Finally, I wound the lecture to a close and faced Derek. "Is there some reason you’ve been provoking your brother all day, or did you just want to see if you could get him spanked again?" The look of pleasure and self-satisfaction fled from Derek’s face. His eyes went wide and his face went pale. He tried twice to talk before he could finally stutter out an answer. Ryan, who’d been looking nearly apoplectic, suddenly sagged in relief as he realized I’d seen everything going on, not just the end of it.

When Derek tried to deny what had happened, I used my fingers to count off the ways I’d seen him annoying and provoking his big brother throughout the day. As I started to switch fingers, I stopped and glared at him.

"You’re already in trouble, Derek. Are you going to add lying to it?"

"No, sir."

"Why did he punch you?"

"Because he thought I tore one of his cards. I didn’t, though," he added as Ryan told me it wasn’t just ‘one’ of his cards, but an expensive rare. "I dropped that one and tore up an island. Really. I’ll show you." He said, as the two of us stared at him.

"That doesn’t matter. Ryan shouldn’t have hit you, and he and I will have a talk about that later. Right now, we’re going to deal with how you’ve been treating him, and I think you know just how we’re going to do that. Shirt up."

He stared at me for a moment, shocked at how badly his plan to earn his brother another spanking had gone awry. I finally had to ask him, "Would you rather I call your dad?"

He would rather I did not, thank you very much, and his shirt came up as he stepped over to me. I guess I should have been using a paddle on the two of them because the threat of their father seemed to be very effective. Or maybe he and I really spanked about the same, and they just felt it was better to get it over with than have to wait. Either way, Derek stood while I undid his jeans and took them to his ankles—not quite still and definitely not stoically, but he did stand.

"Ryan?" I asked, with a motion. He remembered his own recent experience and must have been awaiting the chance to take down his brother’s briefs, considering how fast he appeared. From that position, I could see that Derek was actually trembling as his little white shorts slid down.

Ryan’s proximity didn’t cause Derek the problems that his had caused for Ryan, and he certainly was in no hurry to go back over my lap. Still, the threat of the paddle or his father was waiting in the wings, and he finally did let me guide him into place.

His spanking was no easier than Ryan’s had been. As a matter of fact, it might have been comparatively harder, since he was smaller and younger. Yet I felt he deserved every swat of it. Ryan had been wrong, but he hadn’t deliberately set out to earn a spanking for someone else. I kept smacking that little bottom, circling around, carefully making sure I was catching every single inch of it. To show me he appreciated my efforts, Derek was crying, kicking, squirming, and trying to cover up. I finally had to pin his hand again and paid him for his troubles with a couple of extra-firm smacks on his thighs. He was bawling hard and loud, lying limp and still, before I finished.

Again, all I had to do was speak Ryan’s name, and he was more than ready for the next part. As soon as Derek heard his brother’s name, his head came up in fear and he began to beg. He might have been trying to beg me not to let his brother spank him or not to give those final swats; he was crying too hard for me to tell. Either way, it didn’t matter. Ryan had obviously given this a little thought, and as he knelt down in front of me, he placed his upper arm on Derek’s back, then grabbed Derek’s right cheek and pulled it taut, then motioned for me to do the same. Derek wailed as soon as he felt his brother’s hand grabbing his cheek and tried to cover himself, but Ryan was close enough that he could no longer reach back to block. Sure of that, and thinking our paired arms would be enough to hold him in place, I did as Ryan wanted. As soon as both cheeks were pulled tight, he looked up at me just long enough to ask, "Ten?" When I nodded, he went to work. Instead of one on top of the other as I’d done and Derek had done to him, he went back and forth, but the swats were so fast, it must have seemed continuous. Yet, judging by the sound, I’d say he still got more than enough strength behind each one. Derek wailed through the entire final set of his spanking.

Remembering he didn’t want a hug, I sat Derek on his feet. As soon as he was up, he began a vigorous and amusing fire dance, restrained only by the jeans around his ankles. After watching him nearly trip over his feet several times, I had a pretty good idea of why their father made them remove their clothes completely when he spanked.

I gave him a couple of minutes to calm down, knowing he’d not be able to talk coherently for a bit. When he could, he reluctantly apologized to Ryan, and I made him add a thanks for the spanking. When he complained, I pointed out that, unlike him, Ryan hadn’t been trying to get him spanked. He wasn’t happy about it, but accepted it.



A few moments later, while Derek was still cleaning himself up, Ryan followed me over to where Steve was still waiting with our game laid out. I picked up my hand, but Steve’s attention was now on the other boy.

"Did my dad just spank you?"

"No," Ryan replied; then blushing and checking to make sure no one else could hear, he added, "not this time. He has before."

Steve was fascinated. He’d seen me spank a number of his friends over the years (both when he was next and simply as a witness), but he still seemed fascinated by the details. Even as he and I got back into our game, and much to Ryan’s bemusement, Steve was pumping him for details. Before either one of us knew it, it was agreed that Ryan would be spending the night with us. When his dad came to pick up Derek, he brought a bag with clean clothes in it. And, if Mr. Hunter noticed that Derek was moving a little cautiously, he didn’t say anything about it.

As for Derek and Ryan, that wasn’t the last time I spanked them. It wasn’t even the last time I spanked them together. It was the last time I ever spanked them for fighting or picking on each other. I don’t think they totally changed their lifestyles because of me, but I do think they finally figured out the meaning of discretion.