Stevie: Tough Decisions

Stevie moving in with me was excellent. He was something of a dad's boy and had taken up many of my interests, which made it much easier for us to enjoy each other’s company. For my part, it's always nice to have a cute, naked boy running around, even if you've seen him hundreds of times before. I'd introduced Steve to sleeping nude, and even though I stayed dressed until bedtime, he would never wear a stitch after bath time (as long as we were alone in the house), and sometimes before his bath.

That's not to say there weren't some problems. His mother's idea of discipline had always been a bit erratic. He was almost as likely to get away with breaking a rule as he was to be punished for something that made her mad but wasn't explicitly against the rules. Steve had been having visitation with me since he was six-years-old, but was actually at my house more than visitation actually called for. Because I was a teacher at that time, while his mom was a pharmacy technician, I was out of school almost every time he was (except for the occasional in-service day). In order to save her childcare costs, I had Steve on all my visitation times, but also kept him other days when he was out of school but she had to work. That meant he was used to living under my rules, which I'm sure he found to be a mixed blessing. After all, while I never spanked him for something unless I was sure he knew it was against the rules, he never got out of any, either. The other downside was, his mom used a belt, but never made him drop anything. The worst spankings he ever got from Yvonne were at bedtime, when he had nothing on but thin pajamas, or maybe even just his briefs. With me, every spanking he got was bare bottom. Still, he'd known those things going in and was willing to live with them.

It seemed like there was one week of euphoria, probably on both our parts. We were both more than happy. I came home from work every day to find his chores and homework done. I'd make dinner, then we'd watch some TV or play a board game, or even just stretch out in the living room and read together. It was wonderful. But as always must happen, the honeymoon drew to an end, and real life settled into place.

A lot of it was each of us had things we had to do or wanted to do. I was already living at the condo, so Steve was able to make new friends. Instead of spending time with Dad every night, he wanted to go play. While I didn't have a problem with his leaving the house before I was home (as long as he called to let me know where he'd be), I did have a problem with his doing it before finishing chores and homework. There was a period of about two weeks, just after he'd moved in, where it seemed like he’d decided we were going to be happy together, so it was time to test the rules and see how Dad was going to react now that it was a full-time deal. He got spanked a lot for those few days.

Once he knew I was still going to enforce the rules and would spank him every day if I had to, things settled back to normal, and we were happy again.

The biggest hassle for me was that I didn't want to have to move Steve from his school with only a few weeks left in the year, so I had to arrange for him to get home every day. Mostly it wasn't a problem. His best friend, Nolan Miller, rode home with his mom every day, and she was more than happy to give Steve a lift. On occasion, Steve would come up to the store instead. Fortunately, the few times those things didn't work out, I was able to get one of my part-timers to watch the store while I picked him up.



Nolan and Steve had known each other at school for a while, but I'm not sure they were really friends. As far as I know, the two boys had become friends at Christmas break the previous year. Christmas was on a Friday that year, so I'd had Steve from 6pm, Friday the eighteenth, until his mom was going to pick him up, which was 7am Christmas morning. I had a couple of college students more than happy to be able to pick up a little extra money, so I had plenty of time to spend with Steve, but I was still checking in at the store every day.

On this particular day (maybe Tuesday afternoon), Steve and I had stopped for a nice breakfast, and were checking in at the store before going to finish his Christmas shopping (most of mine is done before Thanksgiving). He was puttering around, while I was picking up the deposit, checking the paperwork, and saying hello to some of my regular customers, including welcoming Nolan and his dad. Nolan's father wasn't into comics, but he had more patience with his boy than a lot of parents I'd seen over the years.

I think Nolan was spending a little early Christmas money because he was browsing a lot more than normal. His father, who was a very nice guy, even if he wasn't into comics, had come over to talk with me. Then both our attentions were drawn by Nolan's wobbly soprano voice calling, "Hey, Steve! What're you doin' here?"

I glanced up to see which Steve he was talking to, but it was sure enough mine. I couldn't hear Steve's reply, but it wasn't hard to imagine him saying, 'I'm waiting for my dad; he owns the place,' based on the way Nolan's eyes went wide. My guess was confirmed a few minutes later, when Nolan came up and asked, "Are you really Steve's dad?"

The two of them got to talking and it looked like Nolan was spending as much time chatting as picking out his stuff. Mr. Miller and I were both starting to get impatient by the time I offered a compromise. Everyone was happy about it. Nolan quickly finished making his selections, then he went with me and Steve. We were only shopping, and the malls were already a bit crowded, but I let them talk me into ice cream, then Mexican food on the way home. I didn't really mind. It was nice to spend time alone with my son, but it was fun listening to the two of them chattering on about the stuff that was important to them. Besides, if Steve had a good time, then I did too.

We dropped Nolan at his house about 7pm, and after nearly six hours, the two of them were still finding things to discuss. Nolan spent the night with us on New Year's Eve, and he and Steve were best friends after that.

Like I said before ( in Brandon Lanigan 01), the two boys weren't able to stay over together extremely often. I didn't mind Steve having company when I had my visitation weekends, but I liked us having some weekends by ourselves. I think Nolan's parents felt the same. Still, they managed to spend at least one night of the weekend together once or twice a month, and it stayed the same after Steve moved in with me.

That summer was hard for Nolan. His dad's health wasn't very good, and he had three younger sisters (probably the reason he enjoyed spending the night at my house so much). They just couldn't afford camp for the kids. On the other hand, Stevie was gone almost the entire summer (see Christoper at the Bowling Alley for a complete breakdown of Steve's summer schedule). Nolan did have other friends, but he still hated his best friend being gone so much. Which isn't to say they weren't able to spend a few nights together during the summer, and I think Steve looked forward to it as much as Nolan did, which ended up causing some problems.



It was nearly the end of summer, and school was going to be starting the Monday after next. I can't say the two of them hated the idea, but they definitely wanted to make the most of what time they had left.

It was a Friday evening, I was just about to close the store, and Nolan was going to spend a couple of days with us. We didn't have any solid plans but were planning on just bumming around and enjoying life.

Just before I closed, a customer had come in. He was a semi-regular, not making it more than once a month, but always spending a ton of money, so I was hardly going to chase him off, even if I had to stay a little late. It was probably about 6:20 by the time I got him out the door, so I called the Millers, then Steve, while I was closing out the register.

"Hey, Steve," I told him. "I had a last minute customer, and I'm running a little late. I'll be leaving here in about ten minutes, so I'll just stop and get Nolan on the way home. Did you get all your chores done today?"

Chores was the biggest problem I had with Steve. Yvonne had been of the 'tell him three times, then yell at him, then get serious' school of assigning chores, and he tended to lapse occasionally. He'd promised me he'd have everything done before I came home that day, including a few extra things I'd asked him to do so the weekend would be free. By asking, I was really just giving him an extra chance.

"Oh, yeah, Dad," he assured me nonchalantly, "they're all done."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, Dad!" he responded, now a bit put out with me, "I promise you that I went down the whole list and every single thing on it's done."

"All right, mister. You'd better be. And watch the tone."

No answer, but I could hear the sigh.

"If you look in the top drawer of my desk, I left a twenty dollar bill. Why don't you order some pizza, and Nolan and I will stop and pick up a movie."

"Cool!" he exclaimed, his earlier exasperation suddenly gone.



Steve had called Nolan, and they'd already agreed on what they wanted to watch that evening. Since I'd planned on watching with them, I vetoed one of their choices, but we were able to find a new release that all three of us could agree on, and headed home for dinner.

When Nolan and I pulled into the condo's parking lot, I was a little annoyed to see Steve coming back from the dumpster. So much for 'every single thing's done.' Still, I try to give him some slack. After all, in boyese, 'it's already done' actually translates into 'I'm about to do it so don't yell at me.' And at least he'd done it.

Nolan jumped out, grabbing the videos and his backpack (no doubt full of the detritus of boyhood he'd need to survive the weekend), leaving me to grab his overnight bag. He caught up with Stevie and the two of them began chattering away.

Upstairs, I handed Nolan's bag to Steve, letting them drop the stuff in Steve's bedroom, while I changed out of my work clothes. A few minutes later, I was cleaned up and wearing gym shorts and a t-shirt when I answered the door for the pizza guy.

Over dinner, we finalized our plans for the weekend. We decided to have a nice breakfast (which came down to IHOP or Denny's), then go to the lake in the late morning/early afternoon, before it grew too hot. After that, I promised some movie they really wanted to see, then we'd either go to Putt Putt or bowling, depending on how hot it was.

After supper, I told them to watch the movie they wanted first, so I had time to take care of a few things myself. While I was teaching Steve to do most of the chores around the house (not that I made him do most of the chores, but I felt he should know how to do all of them, so we switched around), laundry was one I did myself. He could do it, but he somehow never managed to sort the clothes correctly, so the only way I let him do laundry was if I'd pre-sorted everything. Even then, he never seemed to remember exactly what to do with each different type. I made him do it with me sometimes, but I preferred to avoid pink underwear and linty shirts.

Have you ever had one of those times that something was gnawing at your brain, but you couldn't quite put your finger upon it? As I sorted the laundry and started a load, I knew something was wrong, but it wouldn't come to me.

With a load in the washing machine, I took care of my chores-- cleaning the cat box, vacuuming my bedroom, basically making sure I'd have the weekend free for Steve. I wandered back into the living room, realized the movie was every bit as inane as I'd expected, so went to my room and read for a bit. Laundry in the dryer, a few more chapters, then Steve stuck his head into my room.

"C'mon, Dad. We're ready to watch the other movie now. Can we have popcorn?"

Smiling and shaking my head at boyish appetites, I got down popcorn but was distracted by the buzzer. While waiting for me, they'd dug out the Super Nintendo and were taking a crack at a game Nolan had brought with him.

"You guys play while I got the laundry put away, then I'll make the popcorn. You're not in a hurry to get to bed, are you?" I asked in a teasing manner.

"No way!" Nolan assured me, but Steve suddenly jumped.

"I'll help you put it up, Dad."

"Don't worry about it, Steve. You've got company, and it'll only take me a minute."

Well, it was actually a few minutes, but I'd only done a load of pants, so it wasn't hard to get them folded and on hangers. I separated Steve's out and carried them to his room. As soon as I was in his room, I started to look around. It had looked okay when I stuck my head in early—he'd even made his bed, which was about as rare as hen's teeth. Once I was in his room though, I started seeing some problems.

The bedrooms at the condo weren't huge, but Steve still had a pretty nice room. There was a pair of twin beds. His was a captain’s bed with a bookcase headboard. The other bed was plainer, but matched. Between the two was a desk, and he had a chest of drawers, bookcase, and easy chair as well. The room also had a walk-in closet. One side of it was clothes, the other held a toy chest, comic boxes, and shelves. At the back of the closet was a dresser. He had plenty of room for all his stuff.

I stepped into the closet to hang his jeans and noticed a stack of comics just sitting on the boxes. Hardly a major offense, but not where they went, either. Then I noticed the top drawer of his dresser wasn't closed completely. I tried to push it shut, but it wouldn't. I only had to pull it open to realize it wouldn't close because it was stuffed with all the clothes I'd washed that morning. Thinking about clean clothes made me realize what I hadn't been able to figure out when I'd been sorting the laundry. Flipping the cover back on his bed, I realized that he hadn't changed the sheets like he'd been told.

"Am I in trouble?"

I nearly jumped when he spoke, not knowing he'd come into the room.

"I'd say you are, Steve. I thought you said you did everything on the list."

The boy squirmed as I looked at him.

"You know, Steve, I’m not nearly as upset by your not cleaning your room as I am about you lying about it.

"I didn’t mean to," he stammered in a quiet, quavering voice.

He’d been looking at me, but his eyes suddenly fell to the floor, though not fast enough to keep me from seeing he was tearing up. I felt a little bad for him. Of course, he had meant to lie to me; but, if you translated that into Adult English, it was easy enough to guess how his thoughts had gone. He’d probably come in from school and fixed a little snack, then maybe put his dishes away and got the vacuum out or something, before deciding he wanted a break. He was just going to play one video game, then somehow two hours had disappeared, and I was on the phone. He’d meant to do them, and didn’t want me to be mad at him, or tell him Nolan couldn’t come over after all, so it just slipped out before he even thought about it. He’d probably really thought he’d have time to do it before I got home, and I was willing to bet he’d been as worried about disappointing me as about getting in trouble.

Which didn’t change the facts.

"If it was just the chores, Steve, I’d let it go for now and we’d work something out after Nolan got home, but it wasn’t just the chores; was it?"

He mumbled something, but the shake of his head made it clear he understood. Then he raised his voice a little. "I lied to you."

"Yes, you did, and you know what’s going to happen now, don’t you?"

"I gotta get a spanking."

"That’s right, but we have a little problem. Do you want me to take Nolan home?"

"NO!" he protested, suddenly loud and upset as the idea of a spanking hadn’t made him. "Why’s he have to go home?"

"He doesn’t have to, Stevie, but.… Do you remember when Aaron stayed with us, before you went to camp?"

Even in this situation, Stevie smiled a bit. Steve was an only child. He was close to his cousins, Jason and Chris, who were one and three years younger than him, but he had a special love for my youngest brother (at the time, anyway), Aaron. Aaron was nearly four years younger than Steve, and Steve really loved when Aaron could be around because he got to act like a ‘real’ big brother, as opposed to his cousins, who were more friends, because of the closer age.

"Don’t you remember what happened when Aaron got in trouble?"

"You spanked him," he said, not seeing where I was going yet.

"Yeah, but weren’t you in the living room when I spanked him? Didn’t you say you could hear some of it?"

"Oh!" Obviously he finally got my point, since he turned to look towards the living room, where his friend was waiting. He looked a bit nervous at the idea, but then he shrugged. "Nolan knows I get spankings."

"Yeah, but it won’t bother you for him to be here when you get one?"

He really thought about it for a minute, then shrugged again. "You’re not gonna let him watch, are you?"

I just shook my head, then went on. "His dad doesn’t spank him, Steve. Do you think it might bother him for you to get one when he’s here?"

Steve shrugged a third time, then shook his head, and it was clear from his expression that the matter was finished as far as he was concerned.

"Okay. If that’s your choice, then you need to go let Nolan know that you’re going to be busy for thirty or forty minutes...."

An explosion suddenly cut me off. "Thirty minutes!" Stevie cried in panic, his eyes so wide I was afraid they’d fall out of his head, and his hands flew behind him to cover his bottom. I couldn’t quite stifle a laugh.

"Not all of it for a spanking, kiddo. You still have to change the sheets on both beds; and I’ll let you decide if you want to do corner time and clean your room Sunday, or clean it tonight."

"Oh, okay," he replied to my explanation; sagging with relief and rubbing his bottom absent-mindedly. He paused for a second, looking like he was trying to collect himself, then turned away and headed towards the living room. I followed a bit behind and stood just outside the room to watch.

"Hey, Nolan?"

Nolan looked up from his game, then reached up to pause it, before rolling over onto one elbow.

"Umm…." Steve started, trying to gather his thoughts, and breaking into a mild blush before he rushed on. "I was supposed to do some stuff before you and Dad got home tonight, but I didn’t do ‘em all and kinda lied about it, so I gotta do ‘em after Dad gives me a spanking. Dad says he’ll take you home, but I’d really rather you stay, if it won’t bug you. You can just play the video game or something. Okay?"

Nolan looked a little shocked, and his eyes went past Stevie to me for a second, but then he turned back and nodded. "Okay."

Stevie nodded and looked like he wanted to say something else, but then just turned back towards me. Nolan lay there, still propped on his elbow, and watched his friend walk away. As Stevie passed me, Nolan rolled back over and re-started the game.

Unless my sister, Amanda, was staying with us, Steve’s door was almost always open. This time, I made a point of closing it as we stepped in. I went across and turned the desk chair. Steve knew what was expected and followed right behind me.

"You gonna do corner time or clean your room?"

"I’ll clean it."

"Well, you can’t clean your room with your pants around your ankles, and you need a bath, too. Let’s just get you undressed now."

Steve nodded, like I’d asked a question, and docilely held his shirt as I pulled his pants, then his briefs, off. When I took the hem of his shirt in hand, he lifted his arms, and I had to come a bit out of the chair to take it off. Once he was nude, I sat back in the chair and considered him for a moment. He squirmed under the attention, knowing that I was deciding exactly how sore he’d soon be.

"I said I wouldn’t have made a big deal if you hadn’t finished your chores, Steve, and that you’re in trouble for lying about it; but the fact is, you didn’t finish them." Saying it aloud made me feel I’d made the right choice. "Go get the paddle, please."

"No, Daddy, not the whole thing," he whined, as his hands tensed to fists and his knees sagged. I reached up and gently took him by the shoulders.

"I’m sorry, Steve, but I think you need more than just a spanking this time, even if we finish with the paddle. I’m a little upset you didn’t do your chores when you were supposed to, but the main thing is, you have to learn that when you lie, it makes people not trust you, and it almost always makes the situation worse. Do you understand? You might think you’re just telling a little lie, trying to get away with something that’s not real bad, but if you get caught, it’s almost always going to make what would have happened a lot worse."

I think most of that was over his head right then, especially when he was facing a full paddling, but he might have got the drift of it, at least. I made a mental note to talk to him later and try to help him see why he should try to be honest. After all, everyone might lie about some things, but he had to learn not to do it, at least not until he could do it a lot better (not that I planned on mentioning that last part).

He still wasn’t happy, but Stevie turned and walked to his dresser, after a last, pleading look. I watched him open the top drawer and take the paddle from atop his undies. He laid it on the dresser for a moment, pushed the drawer shut, then lifted the paddle and turned back to me. He walked slowly, obviously wanting to delay his upcoming trip across my lap, but not so slowly that I called him down for it. It wasn’t far anyway, and much sooner than he wanted to, I was taking the paddle from him and guiding him across my lap.

Steve was used to me hand spanking him first. If I wanted, a hand spanking could have him crying pretty hard. For a bit more trouble, I’d use my hand until he was starting to gasp or sob, then I’d switch to the paddle and finish up. He almost didn’t react at all to the first slow swats with that paddle. He was so used to being already sore when he felt the first smack, I think it might not have hurt as badly as he was expecting. His stoicism didn’t last long, though.

I took my time with each swat, watching the last place darken before placing the next swat. I didn’t have a special pattern in mind; I just knew that his bottom was going to be a deep, sore red before I was through with him. The paddle fell almost randomly, but I was trying to cover his entire bottom once, before going back to an already spanked spot. One swat with that paddle turned his little rear a mid-shade of pink, so I tried to make sure the whole thing and down onto his legs was that shade, though there were spots where it was darker, because of overlap.

Stevie kept his composure for those first couple of smacks, but as soon as the paddle cracked down on his legs, he started squirming. By the time his whole bottom was pink, he was jerking with every swat and kicking his legs and had taken a firm hold of my leg (he’d learned a long time ago that putting his hands over his bottom only made things take longer and didn’t make anything one bit less sore). You could tell the sting was really starting to build because his bottom was waving around all the time as he tried to avoid the paddle and ease the burn.

One last swat on his leg had the whole area the same shade of pink, so I smacked the paddle down on the same spot again, leaving it rosy and drawing the first real sound I’d heard from him, besides a few gasps and grunts. After that yelp, he tried to calm down, but the dam had been broken. He held the next one in, but yelped again after that. As the paddle smacked down again and again, he continued to yelp as more and more of his bottom turned a warm, rosy color. By the time his entire bottom and the upper legs were that color, the yelps were getting a little damp and were broken by a deep gasp that might have been a sob.

You could tell he was reaching his limits because he was now bucking against my lap as the paddle cracked down, and I had to slide my hand further around his waist, pushing up on his belly, to get him to relax his bottom a bit, so I could turn the paddle and smack it down lengthwise along his crack; once, leaving it rosier than the surrounding cheeks because of the overlap, then again, bringing it to a deeper, true red.

Finally, with half his bottom the shade I wanted, a smack to his legs broke him, and a small wail escaped as he started to really cry. Part of me felt bad. The poor kid knew he’d screwed up, and he really did try to take his punishment well; but we both knew that he needed to break down to really learn his lesson and feel forgiven. Another six or seven swats had his entire rear that shade of red that you knew would linger for a while, burning while it did. Once he’d started crying, each swat just made the next cry louder, and I could see his back shaking with his sobs by the last one.

Centering the paddle on his right sit spot, I lifted it again. Knowing the last part was the worst part, Stevie wailed and began to really struggle, as I started the only part of the spanking that I used a pattern for back then, though not always the same one. The sit spots were already the same color as the rest of his bottom, and two more swats, back and forth between the two, had them a deep, angry red color that would be tender after the rest of his bottom was cool and comfortable, and a final two swats right over the center of the lowest part of his bottom.

I lifted the paddle and ran my left hand across his bottom, enjoying the heat. The skin was dry and leathery, but not bad enough that he was going to bruise. He wasn’t quite bawling yet, and I thought about a few more swats. The lying was pretty serious, but I understood it, but the chores really weren’t serious. And if he hadn’t had quite as hard a spanking as he might have deserved, it had been with a friend in the house. I dropped the paddle behind me and lifted Stevie onto my lap.



Twenty minutes later, Nolan and I lay on the floor of the living room, so I could let him humiliate me at Super Mario Brothers. I didn’t ask if he’d been able to hear any of Steve’s spanking, and he didn’t volunteer anything. He was giving me slightly strange, sidelong looks occasionally, though. I think he was just adjusting to the difference in knowing Steve still got spanked and really understanding it. I was about to suggest something else, when Stevie stuck his head into the living room. Actually, he just walked in, still naked, his face tearstained, and his bare bottom giving off a dull, red glow.

"I’m almost done. Can one of you guys come help me with the sheets?"

I had to smile. All that agonizing over Nolan maybe hearing something, then he shows off his freshly spanked rear in total nonchalance. Shaking my head, I chased Nolan into the shower while Stevie and I got clean sheets on the beds.

The rest of the weekend went great. We had a wonderful weekend, but for some reason, both boys were extremely well behaved that weekend.





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