Stevie and Nolan: Bad Decisions

The boy’s head was lying limply against my chest. His sobs had slowly died away to almost nothing, and I thought he might be falling asleep. Normally, I wouldn’t have any problem with the idea of a naked, well-spanked boy asleep in my lap, but we did have other things to do. I quit rubbing his back, took him by the shoulders, and gently pushed him away from me so I could see his face.

He was almost to the end stage of crying, where he was mostly sniffling and trying to catch his breath, but an occasional tear did still leak from his bloodshot eyes. His eyes were still open, though, and didn’t look befuddled, as you’d expect if I’d interrupted his drifting off.

"You gonna live, champ?"

He nodded soberly, his lips twitching in what might have been a slight smile at the affection in my voice.

"Okay, I want you go to stand in the corner, hands on your head, for a few minutes, and think about why you needed that spanking. Okay?"

He nodded again and gingerly worked his way to his feet. As soon as he was standing, his hands twitched towards his bottom, but he forced them to his head, and he turned, walking slowly and carefully towards the corner I’d indicated.

He was rapidly approaching twelve and was starting to grow. His front side was definitely no longer a little boy’s, though he was a far way from mature. It was cute, but not quite cute enough to make up for the fullness and definition his backside had lost as he’d been growing. The long, coltish legs were nice and he did still look cute and boyish. I know every boy has to grow up, but it’s still sad to see them leaving cuteness behind them.

After watching a couple of moments, mainly to make sure he was going to follow the corner rules, but partly just to enjoy the crimson glow of his bottom and upper legs, I quietly left the room. So far, it didn’t seem to have been a great weekend for Stevie or Nolan.



It had been about three months since the first time I’d spanked Nolan, and I’d begun to think that would be the only time. Both boys had settled into sixth grade well enough, and they started spending even more time together now that they were at different schools and Steve wasn’t torn away by an incredibly busy summer. Too much time as it turns out.

I’d begun to see a little tension between the two boys as time passed, but nothing horrible. When I took the two of them out for some haunted houses a week or so before Halloween, they’d been snapping at each other half the night. Not that they hadn’t enjoyed themselves, but it seemed like there was a lot of friction. I hated to see the two of them like that and had a pretty good idea of the cause, so I’d talked with Mr. Miller, and the two of us had arranged for the two boys to be too busy to see each other for a bit. Well, to see each other much, at least. They did see each other every Thursday afternoon at the store for new comics day. Nolan came to Steve’s Halloween party and to game night at the store. Yvonne took the two of them out one Saturday afternoon. They just didn’t get to spend an entire weekend, or even one night, together for a while.

Actually, the way the timing worked out, we ended up keeping them mostly separated until Thanksgiving. As far as I know, the two of them never realized what their parents had been orchestrating; but by the time the holiday rolled around, they were really excited to be spending a couple of days together.

Of course, I think Burns said something about, ‘the best laid plans of mice and men….’



Yvonne picked Stevie up from my house on Thanksgiving morning, and he seemed to be in a pretty good mood. There hadn’t been much going on at the store Wednesday and, since Stevie got out of school early, I’d turned things over to Gary (Greg having already headed for Dallas to spend the day with his folks), and Stevie and I had spent a quiet evening at home.

The house was too quiet with Steve gone, so I cleaned up a bit, then headed for the relatives’ house. I’d decided as a kid that trying to run around to several different houses was ridiculous. I loved all (well, most of) my relatives and not only wanted to spend time with them, but appreciated that they wanted to spend time with me. However, trying to visit all of them ended up ruining the holiday for me. Instead, I stopped at Mary’s house and spent a couple of hours visiting with her and my brothers, then headed for Mom’s house where I spent most of the day.

I’m sure you know by now that I’m not a big football fan. I stuffed myself beyond capacity on Mom and Grandma’s cooking, then bundled up and followed them out back, where I sat upwind while they enjoyed coffee and cigarettes. When they were through with that, we all trudged back inside, gathered my half-sister, and played a few hands of 42, pausing only long enough to deal with the food, once we were sure everyone was through eating.

By 3pm, I was thinking about leaving, when my grandpa suggested the same thing. His actual words were "They say it’s already snowing hard in Dallas." Like most Texans, the idea of driving on snow was terrifying to him, so I was detailed to follow my grandparents and make sure they arrived home safe. I wasn’t particularly worried about it since I understood that fresh snow wasn’t exactly the same as ice, and my car had front wheel drive, which helped a bit anyway.

I’d been thinking on the way to Grandma’s and went inside to make a phone call once we arrived. Yvonne was still at her mom’s, and so was her brother and his family. Their mom still lived in the same house in which they‘d grown up, and they were planning to spend the night. Yvonne and Steven (yes, my Steve is named after his uncle, which has a lot to do with why mine had always been Stevie) would be sleeping in their old rooms, and his kids would be sleeping in the guest room. Yvonne confirmed that the three of them were already outside trying to gather enough of the freshly falling stuff to make snowballs. Looking out Grandma’s kitchen window, I could see it was coming down hard already. Yvonne, as you might imagine, had no problem with keeping Stevie the night (Stevie wasn’t quite twelve at the time, his cousin Jason is about fifteen months younger, and Jason’s little brother Chris is nearly two years younger than that, so fitting the three of them into a double bed wasn’t much challenge or problem). I asked her to put Stevie on the phone for me. He was willing to come home if I wanted him to, but I could tell in his voice he was excited about the snow and wondering if any of the kids at the condo would be home that evening. He stayed.

With that out of the way, I made a short visit to Dad’s parents. Dad and I weren’t doing anything that remotely resembled talking at that time, but my aunts and uncle were there, so I had a pleasant visit, though fairly short, since Uncle Phil and Aunt Christy wanted to get home before things got too bad. On the other hand, my cousin Ryan still lived with Grandma and Gramps, and he obviously needed another lesson in humility before I could leave (at twenty-one, he was 6’4", 225 pounds, and couldn’t believe that I could still pin him down and swat his butt like I’d done when we were eleven and eighteen). Ryan’s mom, Aunt Carrie, who lived further away, was spending the night, and it was my first chance to meet my new cousin (her new born, I‘d met her new husband at the wedding) so I had to spend a little time visiting with him as well.

I did get home safely that evening, and even ended up picking up Gary and another friend who came over, snarfed my Thanksgiving leftovers, and played Magic until the wee hours of the morning, when they crashed on whatever furniture I had available (and Gary stole the comforter off my bed to do it—the bum!). It wasn’t as much fun as if I’d brought Stevie home and we’d spent the evening having snowball fights and building snowmen, but it was a good holiday.



Over the years, I’ve noticed that the day after Thanksgiving is not such a huge deal for the comic industry, so I was working the store by myself. I had a couple of Christmas sales, but my biggest sales came from boys who’d gone away to college and come back complaining about the local comic stores (while UT and TCU had really good ones nearby, apparently the ones around a couple of other colleges were pretty sucky). It was nice, not just for the sales, but for the chance to catch up with some of my old customers. And at that time, most of my customers were also friends to one degree or another.

Gary had come in by two o’clock, and I’d headed straight over to pick up Stevie. It hadn’t gotten warm enough to really start thawing yet, and it had been a thick, damp snow. I was looking forward to getting out and playing for a while.

Steve was quiet when I picked him up and not very talkative at first, though not quite depressed, either. My first guess was that he’d gotten in trouble. Steven (my Steve’s uncle) was about as strict as I was, though there were a few minor points on which we disagreed, and he was about as quick to spank as I was. It would have been far from the first time he’d spanked Stevie. As a matter of fact, Stevie and Jason had been spanked together by myself and by Steven for picking on Chris, and I figured the snow would have added an irresistible extra fun to that idea. He assured me they hadn’t gotten in any more trouble than being yelled at for making too much noise after they’d been put to bed, and I couldn‘t come up with another theory.

By the time we were home and I’d suggested a snowman, which he’d not done with his cousins, he seemed to be back to his usual self, and we ended up having a great time. That evening, after dinner, he started acting a bit sulky, though, and went to his room early. He swore he felt okay, he just didn’t feel like doing anything and wanted to read. I’ve been that way myself at times over the years, so left him alone. It only really bothered me when I went to tuck him in, and he was already asleep.

Nolan had spent Thanksgiving at his grandparents, and they’d gotten home Friday night. He was scheduled to spend most of the rest of the weekend with us, and he and Stevie had both been excited about it. So, of course, I received a call about 8am. Greg was supposed to open the store at 10am, and was calling to tell me that he’d been about to leave his parents’ house in Dallas, but his car wouldn’t start. He had to have his car, which meant I had to go in and open the store. I was planning to call Gary in—he’d probably gripe, but would be happy enough for the extra money—but wanted to let him get a little more sleep first. Besides, we weren’t supposed to pick Nolan up until early afternoon.

I knew Steve had been worn out, and he didn’t get to sleep in much, so I just left him a note. Things went about the way I expected them to, from the usual small trickle of customers, to Gary complaining about having to come in again. We were closed Sundays back then, so I knew it was mostly pro forma (I’d known Gary since he was in middle school, and the boy liked to gripe almost as much as me).

I managed to get home about noon. I’d called Stevie to make sure he was up and working on the chores I’d left on the note but didn’t get an answer, so I called Nolan to let him know we might be running a little late but hadn’t forgotten him. I arrived home, ready to get going, and was puzzled and surprised by my reception.

"Hey, champ! Did you see the note? You ready to go?"

He looked ready to go, but I could already see at least one chore he’d not finished.

"What do you care anyway?"

"Excuse me?" I snapped, as much upset by his tone as confused as to where it had come from.

"We were supposed to go get Nolan. You said you were staying home today."

"I left you a note, Stevie. I would have woken you, but…."

"I don’t care, either," he snapped and went back to watching the television.

"Go to your room."

He ignored me pointedly enough that I repeated myself.

"Go. To. Your. Room. NOW!"

I don’t know what his attitude was, but it obviously wasn’t suicidal. He glared at me but did it while rising and leaving the living room.

I shouldn’t have even made him leave the room. I should have left myself. Unfortunately, my dominance instincts work just fine, and he’d set them off with a bang. Actually, that might not have been a bad thing. No matter why he was acting like this, he needed to learn you can’t treat people like that.

I went to my bathroom and splashed some cold water on my face. Only the first handful steamed away; by the third, it was barely sizzling. Towel my face, then go get a cold drink—more water. A couple of deep breaths. I do not want to make this into a confrontation, so think about how to approach it. Then go, before you can over-think it.

"Hey, Stevie. Hope you saw my note. Greg’s car broke down, and I had to work the store a bit until Gary could get there. I already called Nolan, so he knows we’ll be a little late. Did you have a good morning? Already had breakfast?"

He looked at me suspiciously. He knew I was running some sort of scam, and he was just trying to figure out what the sting was—or more likely, when it would start to land.

I sat on the bed beside and tried to drape my arm around him, but he jerked away, so I turned to face him.

"I don’t know why you’re so upset, Stevie, but you need to talk to me about it instead of acting this way."

He turned to shoot me a look like I was a moron and snapped, "I wanted to go to Granny’s on Thanksgiving. I wanted to see Gigi."

This was about visitation and two days old?

"Stevie. As much as I wish I had you all the time, you know your mom wants to see you, too, and we have to work with her. For you to stay with me Christmas Eve, you had to have Thanksgiving Dinner with her."

"I know, but you said you were gonna come get me!"

Ah-ha! The light bulb went on. He wasn’t mad at me; he was mad at himself. I remember having a couple of times like that in my childhood when I regretted a decision and didn’t understand why I felt so bad and why someone else didn’t make it right. I slipped off the bed to kneel on the floor in front of him.

"Buddy, I would have come got you, but we broke up early because of the snow. I would have still come and got you, but I was already at Gigi’s when I called, and you said you wanted to stay. Besides, we can see Granny and Gigi whenever you want, but it hardly ever snows around here. I thought you had a good time."

He looked away, but reluctantly agreed that he’d had a great time when I pushed him.

"No one’s mad at you, Stevie. You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff Gigi’s done for me because she knew I wanted to do something. We can even go visit them tomorrow if you want to. Okay?"

He nodded, but his eyes were damp, and he still looked miserable.

"Are you gonna spank me, Dad?"

"You kinda deserve one, don’t you?"

He nodded again.

"Why?"

"Because I didn’t do my chores and because I was mean to you."

"You sure were. The problem is, we still have chores to do—I need to change my sheets and clean my room, too—and Nolan’s expecting us to come get him pretty soon."

I leaned back on my heels and looked up at him. "I’ll tell you what. You were in a bad mood and not very happy. Let’s skip the spanking this time and just get the chores done. ‘Kay?"

His look screamed that he didn’t believe it, but he nodded, scared to hope I was being honest, even while knowing I never lied to him.

"Okay, then you get your room done while I do mine, then we’ll do the living room and kitchen together. Hurry!" I said as I pulled him up from the bed and gave him a swat to get him going.



We weren’t too terribly late picking up Nolan. Mrs. Miller said he’d been bouncing off the walls waiting for us, though, so she was happy to scoot him out the door. I’d thought about just going back home and letting the boys play in the snow, but the temperature was nearly up to 40F (5C) and somehow ‘playing in the mush’ just didn’t sound as fun. It might have been warming some, but it definitely wasn’t weather for Putt-Putt, so we ended up going to the bowling alley. We bowled several games and played some pool before deciding to take off.

I’d promised to let the boys pick almost anything they wanted for dinner (I probably could have said anything, since Steve had outgrown his infatuation with Ronald McDonald), and they both agreed on The Station. The Station did have the best pizza in town, but it was in the mall food court. I didn’t mind the expense so much as the idea of hitting a mall the weekend after Thanksgiving. On the other hand, it was at the old mall, which didn’t have the hot anchor stores of the one at the other end of town, so I agreed to try it. It really wasn’t that much worse than a normal weekend.

We’d all agreed to do a little shopping before dinner and stopped into the bookstore, Spencer’s Gifts, the music store, the video store, and did a little window-shopping at the pet store and toy store. We even ran into Bath and Body Works, since Stevie already knew what he wanted to get his mom (and both grandmothers, and Gigi). The music store was our last stop since it was closest to the food court. It was the only store to cause a problem.

Nolan came up to me with a CD in his hand. He didn’t say anything about it, but he was holding it in that way kids have of trying to be subtle that ends up screaming they’re doing something wrong.

"Let me see it, Nolan."

He didn’t bother pretending ignorance and didn’t have to pretend reluctance. I don’t remember exactly what the album was, but I do recall seeing PARENTAL WARNING on the cover.

"No."

"My dad would let me get it, Jack," he informed me in tones that lent some doubt to his word.

"Then you can come back and get it with him. Put it up."

He opened his mouth to try again, but Steve touched his shoulder and gave a slight shake of the head. Smart kid. Nolan proved to be fairly smart, too. He did stomp off to put it away, but at least he went.

I thought it was all over by the time our pizzas were ready (by the slice Sicilian—molto buon). We were mostly finished eating and just sipping our drinks while discussing what to do with the rest of the evening. We’d bought several videos and were trying to figure out what we were going to watch, when Nolan piped up, "Do you know where the bathrooms are?"

"Yeah," I replied, after a moment’s thought. "Right around that corner and down a hall. Can you wait; we’re almost done here?"

"I’ll only be a minute," he replied and took off before I could say anything else. I looked at Steve, who just shrugged, so we straightened up the table, finished off the last couple of pieces of fried cheese, and sat back to wait. About five minutes later, Nolan came back and sat down, grabbing for his soda again.

"Made more room?" Stevie asked with a laugh. I just looked at the boy, saying nothing. After a minute, he looked up at me.

"Give it here, Nolan," I told him, holding out my hand.

"What?" he asked, his ignorance as feigned as his innocence.

"Steve, why don’t you tell Nolan what you know about lying," I suggested.

"You mean, lying always makes things worse?"

"That’s the one. Do you really want to get in more trouble, Nolan?"

Steve’s friend looked angry and disgusted, but he reached behind him and pulled a bag from beneath his coat, where it had been tucked into the back of his jeans. I wasn’t really surprised to see it was from the music store. Nor was I surprised to open it and find the CD I’d told him he couldn’t buy. I’d not been surprised by the bag, because I’d heard it crinkle when he sat down. Not that the look on his face wouldn’t have been a give away that he’d done something wrong, anyway.

"We’ll return this in a minute."

Nolan looked like he wanted to protest but thought better of it. We sat, him staring at his hands, Steve nervously, and I calmly finishing our drinks. When we were all done, we went back to the music store, got a refund, then headed back to the car.

With the packages in the trunk and the boys in the back seat, I got in, started the heater, took a deep breath, then turned to face the boys—to face Nolan.

"I think you know what happens in my house when a boy can’t behave, Nolan."

"He gets spanked?"

"That’s right. Do you want to go home or to our house?"

The poor kid looked horrible. I’d seen Steve whispering to him as we walked out of the mall, so he knew nothing happy was going to result from this.

"Your house," he finally answered.

"Nolan, I’m not happy that you directly disobeyed me, but I’m really upset because of the way you tried to con me. This wasn’t something like last time, when you did something you knew you weren’t supposed to, but might not have thought about it first. This was deliberate, planned disobedience. Do you see the difference?"

He thought about it for a minute, then nodded.

"If you come to our house, this spanking’s going to be harder than the other was. Are you sure that’s what you want?"

"But after the spanking, everything’s okay? I can still sleep over and watch the movie and stuff?"

Steve was already nodding before Nolan had finished the question, but I reassured him. "Nolan, once you’re punished, it’s behind us. It’ll still be on your record, and I might decide to take you to the bathroom next time we’re out someplace, but I won’t hold it against you. You take your punishment, and you have a clean slate."

He nodded, then added, "I wanna go home with you." He didn’t sound like he really meant it, but I guess that was understandable under the circumstances.



Once we were at home, we all kicked off our shoes, and dropped our purchases on the couch to be sorted later.

"Do you need a bath tonight, Nolan?" I asked him.

"I took a shower this morning," he avoided answering. I didn’t expect he’d worked up much of a sweat bowling, and boys are almost as bad about water as cats at times, so I decided to let him skip. On the other hand….

"Steve, I know you need a bath. Hit it."

He grimaced a bit but headed towards his bedroom, though not before giving what I think he meant to be a supportive smile to his friend; however, it mostly looked like he was about to sick up.

As soon as Steve was gone, I escorted Nolan to my office. Turning my desk chair to face the room, I sat down, and Nolan stepped over to stand in front of me. I didn’t waste much time since he was obviously nervous and worried, but I stripped him to the skin and did enjoy the view, even though he was losing some of his boyishness in early adolescence. Once he was naked, I sat back and looked up at him.

"Steve should be in the bath by now. Why don’t you go get the paddle?"

I watched him walk out and thought he might have been growing more lately than Steve. His little rear was still lean but seemed to be flatter. I started wondering if I should have been charting Steve’s height all this time but didn’t have long to think before Nolan came back into the room.

"Do you understand why I’m upset with you, Nolan, and why you’re about to get spanked?"

"Because I disobeyed you and because I was…" he paused for a moment, maybe trying to remember the word I’d used, but went on after a few seconds, "I wasn’t honest about it."

"That’s right. And do you understand why I think that’s worse than what you did last time?"

He nodded. I think he did understand, though he wasn’t happy about it. I think he might also have been upset with himself, just guessing from the look on his face. His eyes were already teary, so I decided to cut it short.

"If you ever have any questions about why I do things the way I do, Nolan, you can always ask. And just because you have a clean slate after a spanking doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me about something. Okay?"

He nodded again.

"Then let’s get you over my lap."

It wasn’t hard to get him into position. He might have only been there once, but he knew how I wanted him this time. Once he was ready, I patted his shoulder.

"Hand me the paddle, Nolan."

"Don’t you want me to hold it until you’re ready for it?"

"Sorry, kiddo, but I am ready for it. There’s no excuse for how you acted, and I think you deserve the paddle." The boy sobbed, then there was a short, heavy pause, so I continued. "If it makes you feel any better, if Steve had done something like this, he’d be getting the brush."

I don’t think it really made him feel any better, but he did hand me the paddle.

The few swats Nolan had received with the paddle last time, even on an already sore bottom, hadn’t prepared him for what a full session with it would be like. The boy took the first two or three swats to each cheek fairly well, though he jerked around a lot with each, which didn’t matter much, since I had a firm grip on his hip. It didn’t take many more than that before he was crying softly between loud yelps each time the paddle cracked down.

It was hard to reconcile the spanking I thought he deserved for his actions with his bottom’s lack of experience, but I’d thought all the way home and had a pretty good goal in mind. I kept the paddle falling back and forth between each cheek, pausing only to restrain his hand, until he was bawling hard and loud and his cheeks were both a deep red color. It would have been a good spanking for Stevie, except that I’d barely touched Nolan’s legs at all. He’d gone from trying to be still, to kicking and bucking, and was now at the point where he only had energy for a few jerks with each swat. And that seemed to be fading fast.

I paused for a minute, switching the paddle to my left hand and rubbing the right across his bottom, getting him to relax a bit, and making him uncross his ankles and spread his legs just a bit.

"Okay, buddy, we’re almost through now."

With that, I took the paddle back in my right hand and placed it gently over his left sit spot. As soon as he felt that, he found the energy to struggle a bit again, but my left hand already had a good hold again, and he only ended up squirming a bit.

"NOOOOOOO!!!" he protested as the paddle came up again. He tried to squeeze his legs together, but didn’t have time.

The paddle cracked down rapid fire, delivering twelve swats to each side, half to the sit spots and the rest to the still white-until-that-time legs. The swats weren’t as hard as the ones to his bottom had been but were still stingers and landed so fast it took longer to tell it than to give it.

It took a moment longer for his legs to stop flailing and his one, long, high pitched shriek of agony and protest to die away. Then I gently rolled him up to sit in my lap.



It only took a minute to find that Stevie had already had his shower and was in the living room, sorting through the bags we’d brought home. He stuffed something back into one of the bags, and I pretended not to know that it was a Christmas present for me.

"Is Nolan okay?" he asked, looking up at me as soon as the gift was safely covered.

"Well, about as okay as you’d be. He’s gonna live anyway."

Stevie winced, since he knew exactly what I meant. At times like this, ‘okay’ is a very relative term.

"Did we decide on what we were going to watch tonight?"

The naked boy nodded.

"Okay, why don’t you start popping some corn? I think Nolan will be ready in a few minutes."

The idea that Nolan would be ready for popcorn obviously reassured him, and he happily jumped up to do it. With him busy, I went back to the office.

"I think that’s long enough, Nolan. You can come out."

The boy turned around and carefully lifted his hands from his head.

"Can I rub now?"

I couldn’t stop a smile. "Yes, you can rub now, but then c’mere and get a hug."

He rubbed for a second, but did it while stepping over to me.

"I’m really sorry, Jack. I knew I shouldn’t a done that."

"Like I said, that’s behind us now, Nolan. But thank you for apologizing."

We stood there for a minute longer, just enjoying the closeness and quiet.

"Steve’s popping corn, so we’d better go."

He didn’t let go, so I dropped my arms. He stood there a minute, then suddenly squeezed tighter. "Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

I was stunned, but only for a second before I bent down and gently kissed his forehead. "I love you too, buddy. Now let’s go watch the movie."





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