Stevie and Nolan: Birthdays and Beyond

There are 365 days in a year. In Bransom, we normally have three classes of each grade in each elementary. In each class, there are usually between twenty and twenty-five students. That works out to about seventy students in each school. If you’re not very good at math, I’ll just tell you that those figures mean that nearly every student should have not just a birth date by himself, but nearly an entire week. It doesn’t seem to work out that way, though.

I personally think that there are reasons there are more birthdays at one time of year than another. Ever notice that there seem to be a lot of birthdays in November? Ever notice which month is nine months after Valentine’s Day? I think there’s a connection.

Whatever the reason might be, Steve is one day older than Nolan. When the time came to throw birthday parties, it seemed natural to include the two boys together. Want to guess who was cut out of the loop?

As I recall, their birthdays were on a Friday and Saturday in 1993 (10 and 11 December). Mrs. Miller and Yvonne decided to get rid of the Miller girls for the evening and have a party and sleepover at their house. That was okay, though, because I got the two of them the next night.

Actually, I picked them up early Saturday afternoon, as soon as I could get free from the store. We drove into Dallas, had lunch at Crystal’s Pizza, drove go-carts, played miniature golf, and blew some time in the arcade. We were headed back to Bransom after a long day, debating which movie we were going to see. They nixed Sister Act 2. I refused to go see Wayne's World. We almost decided on Addam's Family Values, but we’d all seen it, so we finally settled on Mrs. Doubtfire. And of course, we had a little traffic trouble leaving Dallas and got to the mall right as the movie was starting, so I totally threw the budget out the window, and we ate movie theater hot dogs and nachos (and the boys still wanted popcorn and candy).

When we got home, all three of us were beat, but it was a good beat. I had a couple of messages, so I sent them to get their baths. When Steve got out of my shower, I jumped in, and came out a few minutes later to find the two of them, naked but dry, lying on the floor, spreading out Magic cards.

"We can play a couple of games, can’t we, Dad?"

"I think we probably can, but we have a couple of things we have to take care of first."

I left it there, but I’d been using my ‘menacing Dad voice’, and the effect on both boys was almost simultaneous, though Steve reacted just a second faster.

"We do?" he whined, trying to think of anything he’d done wrong that I might have found out about, or that he might have left undone.

"Yes, we do, and I think you need to go get the paddle, Steve."

"Why!?!"

Keeping my voice totally serious, I explained, "You don’t expect me to give birthday spankings with my bare hand, do you?"

I guess they did, since their response was to jump on me and try to wrestle me down. I only had to go a little easy to let them manage it, but they managed to get me down. Then, before they could pin me, I cheated. After tickling both of them into submission, we came to an agreement.

I sat down on the floor, back to the couch and legs straight out in front of me, and the two boys lay across, as close to my lap as they could get, snuggled side by side, with Nolan closer to me. After a little adjusting, I laid my left arm across their backs and got started.

A birthday spanking is not a shorter form of a real spanking, but my family expects it to still have a bit of sting. I went back and forth between the two boys, counting ‘one, one’, leaving definite handprints, even if they were only pinkish. Since I was keeping the spanking strictly to their bottoms, and I could cover each cheek in about three swats (with plenty of overlap), by the time I got to twelve, they were turning darker than pink.

The two boys, who could take the start of a real spanking from me quietly and lying still, were ouching and oohing and bouncing and squirming like I was using a brush, but they were both giggling hard as well. The only real ouch I heard from them was the one to grow on, which left a definite red spot on the center of their otherwise rosy bottoms.

Of course, after I got through and let them up, Nolan decided he should give Steve ‘one to be good on’, which led to a lot of wrestling around and two very cute little stiffies. Actually, taking a second look and remembering what it was like the first time Nolan had felt comfortable enough with us to sleep bare, they weren’t so little anymore. Not that either boy was huge or even had hair yet. On the other hand, while memory does sometimes play tricks, it looked like the balls on both boys were bigger and hanging lower than they had been a year ago, and both boys were definitely longer. And while Steve’s dick was thinner than Nolan’s, he was also maybe a half-inch longer, though I’d say they were both pretty close to four inches.

I finally broke in and had the two of them take turns turning around and putting hands on knees so the other boy could give a swat. After thirteen like that, both boy’s bottoms were almost as red as if I’d spanked them. They were both jumping around very fetchingly after each swat, but they were laughing around all the complaints and yelps.

"Okay, that’s enough, you two," I announced. "Corner time."

"Why?"

"Mostly because you really don’t want to disobey me and get a real spanking right now, do you?"

Both of them aimed a bottom lip at me, but I refused to be intimidated, so off they went, which was good, because they might have lost their little erections during all the swats, but Daddy was in serious need of some adjustment before something bent too far.

It was only a few moments later when I told them they could turn around. I hadn’t wanted them watching while I got a couple of things ready, but I have to admit, I also enjoyed the sight of those red bottoms when they weren’t attached to a crying boy. I love real spankings, but this had been a fun difference, and variety really is the spice of life.

When they turned around, Nolan’s eyes went wide. Steve wasn’t quite as surprised, since he’d had a pretty good idea what to expect. In my hands, I held a party tray. On the tray were three cupcakes and two packages. As they started towards me, I subjected them to my singing voice long enough to get through the four lines of Happy Birthday. The little locusts didn’t even give me time to set the tray down before they attacked the cupcakes, but at least they both said ‘thank you’ before grabbing the presents.

"There’s no name on them."

"That’s because they’re both the same thing. Just grab one and open it."

When Magic: the Gathering had first come out in the summer of ‘93, it’d taken off like a rocket; WAY beyond anyone’s expectations. It took the company nearly a year to be able to produce enough cards to fulfill demand. However, as soon as I realized how fun the game was (and how addictive opening packs was), I began putting some aside whenever I could get my hands on some stock. Since the store was sold out, you might be able to imagine the boys’ surprise and pleasure when they opened their gift to find a variety of packs. Not just that, but it meant they got to open their gift twice. (They wouldn’t let me open any, though.)

Maybe I didn’t get to host the party, but I think I got the better end of the bargain.



For Steve and Nolan, almost as much fun as their birthdays was the fact that school was out for Christmas only a week afterwards. Nolan and Steve wanted to spend the whole time together, but it didn’t work out quite like that for them.

Nolan’s dad wasn’t working, so he handled most of the childcare (and Nolan was too young to babysit anyway), but he still had chores to do around the house. Steve, on the other hand, only got to spend half the holiday with me; of course, it was the first half, which led to Nolan being very upset and nearly getting himself grounded. We got on the phone and had a long talk

Nolan worked hard and got his chores done while Steve was at Yvonne’s for the weekend. Yvonne dropped Steve at the store on her way to work Monday, and Mr. Miller dropped Nolan off later that afternoon, and they had three glorious days together until Nolan went home on Thursday afternoon.

I was a little worried about the two of them. I’d sat down with them when I’d agreed to it and gone over my expectations with the two of them. We’d also made tentative plans for what they were going to be doing. Which explained why I was so ticked off when I managed to sneak away from the store a little early Tuesday afternoon.

I have to admit that I’d not been waiting too long before they came in. Steve was obviously nervous to find the door unlocked, but scared when he opened it to see me sitting on the couch.

"Would you two like to tell me where you’ve been?"

Both boys were goggle-eyed, but Nolan finally managed to choke out, "We were just at the park."

"Yeah, Dad."

"That’s funny, because I drove around the park a few minutes ago, and I didn’t see you there."

Steve looked panicked for a second, but then held up a 7-11, insulated cup. "We wanted some hot chocolate."

"That’s all well and good except that we have hot chocolate in the cabinet, but I don’t remember getting a call from you guys telling me you were leaving the house."

Both boys stood there squirming. It was cool out, but not what I’d really call cold, but both boys were dressed warmly. Steve had his jacket zipped up, but Nolan’s was mostly undone. I could tell he was wearing a flannel shirt and an undershirt, but mostly I could tell how nervous he was by the way he kept playing with the zipper on his coat, sliding it up and down.

After a few moments of silence, with both boys refusing to meet my eyes, I finally spoke again.

"Guys, I want you to have a good time, but I specifically told you that you weren’t to leave the house without letting me know. You two wanted to do a little last minute shopping—I left the store early, so we can get to the mall before they get too crazy. When I get home, you’re gone."

I stopped and stared for a minute, but they were both too busy fidgeting to notice.

"Nothing to say for yourselves?"

"We’re sorry, Dad."

"Sorry’s not good enough, Steve." I thought for a second more. I hate being harsh right before Christmas, and I knew this was just a thoughtless impulse of boredom, not deliberate disobedience, but I’d made the threat very explicit before Nolan came over.

"We’re still going to go shopping today, but we have something else to take care of first. I was in the warehouse today, so I need a shower. You two go get your stuff off, and when I get out , I expect to see you both bare bottomed and standing right there," I said, pointing towards the wall beside the fireplace.

I do enjoy undressing a boy, but Steve had finally unzipped his coat and it was obvious they both had layers on. I figured I might as well let them do it this time, while I got cleaned up.

"While you’re standing there, I want you to be thinking about the reasons you shouldn’t have gone anyplace without calling me. Now get!"



I didn’t linger in the shower too long, but I did take time to work myself nearly to the boiling point thinking about what was coming, then turned the water on cold long enough to reduce the swelling. Five minutes after that, dry and dressed in slacks and an undershirt, I went back into the living room. Both boys were waiting for me, noses against the wall, wearing nothing but t-shirts, which they were holding up under their arms. I quietly moved a chair from the dining table into the living room and sat facing them, before letting them know I was there.

"You can turn around now, and I think you have something to say to me."

"We’re really sorry for not calling you, Dad. We just forgot."

"I’m sorry you didn’t think about it, Steve, but that doesn’t change the rules; does it?"

"No, sir," he answered, staring at his socks.

"I think I told you to think about something while you were waiting for me, didn’t I?"

"You mean, why we weren’t supposed to leave without calling you?"

"Because we were disobeying you and breaking the rules," he answered sadly, knowing that there wasn‘t going to be a reprieve.

"That’s true, Steve, but that’s pretty general. I meant some specific reasons that I made that rule."

Steve screwed up his face, but Nolan answered. "Because you wanted to know where we were."

"That’s part of it, Nolan. It’s because I wanted to know where you were in case something happened and I needed to get hold of you. What if I’d come home because there was an emergency or your parents had needed you for something, instead of me just coming to take you shopping?"

"Steve, I know I talked about this with both of you. Can’t you remember the other reason?"

"Because if something happened to us, you wouldn’t know where to find us?"

"Yeah, that’s it. Do those sound like decent reasons to you? Or does it just sound like I’m making up new rules?"

"No, it sounds fair," he admitted, as much as he obviously hated to.

"Didn’t I explain this to you last week?"

"Yes, sir," the two of them echoed.

"All right, we set the rules last week. I told you exactly what I expected and what would happen if you didn’t. If you didn’t remember, I’m sure the way you’re dressed reminded you, didn’t it?"

"Y…" Nolan started, then had to stop.

You’re going to spank us," Steve finished for him.

"That’s right, and I think it’s a real shame that we couldn’t just have a fun day. I hope that we still can, but you two are going to have a hard time before we try." I paused for just a second to make a decision, then went on. "Steve, this isn’t the first time I’ve spanked you for leaving the house without letting me know, is it?"

"No, sir," he barely managed to choke out.

"Nolan, you two did the same thing, but I haven’t had to spank you for it before. You both deserve a spanking, but Steve’s is going to be harder. Do you understand why, or do you think it’s unfair?"

He shrugged, obviously not wanting to admit it, but not being able to come up with any arguments against it. (And maybe not wanting to get himself a worse spanking.)

"All right then. C‘mere, Stevie." I waited just a moment, until Steve started towards me, then added, "Nolan, would you go to Steve’s room and get the paddle, please?"

Steve had just started to lower himself across my lap when I asked, and he stopped suddenly and groaned. I had to put my hand on the small of his back to urge him across. Nolan looked very unhappy, and stopped to watch as I positioned Stevie. I started to rub Steve’s rear, but waited until Nolan turned away to deliver the first smack. Stevie took it pretty well, but Nolan flinched as he heard the slap of skin upon skin. After another brief pause, he left for Steve’s room without looking back.



It’s not a long trip from the living room to Stevie’s room and back, but Nolan was apparently not in a hurry. By the time he got back, Steve’s bottom was reddening nicely and he was starting to cry. It wasn’t a loud cry, not yet; but it was obviously enough to upset Nolan. Even while I kept my rhythm going on Steve’s rear, I glanced up at him. He’d let his t-shirt slip down a bit, but he was still bared from the belly down. The paddle was hanging down by his left side, seemingly forgotten as he watched someone else get it for, as far as I knew, the first time. I don’t know if it was being able to hear Stevie’s yelps and sobs, knowing he was next, if it was the way his cheeks were darkening towards true red, or if it was the kicking and squirming. Whatever the reason, Nolan’s eyes had teared up enough that a small trail of moisture was leaking down his cheek, and his chin was quivering at a fast idle.

My look at Nolan was only a quick glance before I looked back to what I was doing. Steve’s bottom was a pretty uniform red, and his legs only slightly lighter, so I gave a few last, quick, randomly placed swats, then popped him to his feet. His hands shot for his rear but then stopped, and he folded them across his chest, even while he was shifting from foot to foot and bending his knees. I felt pretty bad about not giving him a post-spanking hug, but we weren’t finished yet.

"Nolan, give Steve the paddle, then get over here."

A sob escaped him, but he obeyed me, and only a few seconds after telling him, my hand rose and fell in the first swat. I was a bit surprised really; I’d only spanked him a couple of times, but he seemed to know exactly how I wanted him.

His spanking wasn’t any easier than Steve’s had been. As usual with a hand spanking, I didn’t try to follow any pattern. I let my hand fall almost randomly around the boy’s rear. Sometimes back and forth, sometimes several on one cheek, occasionally down to the legs, and I might even put several smacks in a row in exactly the same place (and didn’t that always get a reaction!). Usually I’d spank at a fairly slow pace, but then I’d let a few fall pop-pop-pop in a row. The only thing I really watched for was that he was reddening fairly evenly. Between the swing of your hand and the boy’s gyrations, there’s no way to be sure you’re going to hit exactly where you’re aiming, so I tried not to let one spot get too much redder than any place else.

Nolan’s spanking was actually a little harder than Steve’s had been. When he was crying hard and loud, and I thought he was red enough for it to keep him tender for awhile, I placed several rapid fire swats right on the sit spots. He bellowed as those landed, but as soon as they were done, I rolled him up to sit in my lap and squeezed him against my chest for just a second, then let go.

"Hop up, Nolan. We need to get Stevie finished."

Nolan didn’t exactly hop, but he did climb to his feet. Stevie, on the other hand, was very reluctant to go back across my lap.

"C’mon, Steve. Let’s get it over with. Nolan, quit rubbing and get your hands on your head, or I’ll put you back over my lap."

While Nolan’s hands slowly obeyed me, Steve was shaking his head. "I’m sorry, Dad. Please…" he whined.

"Now, Steven!"

The boy clenched his eyes but stepped forward, letting me take the paddle and guide him back into position.

It wasn’t a long paddling, but on his already hot, stinging bottom, it was agony, and he was crying loudly from the first swat. Only crying, though. What he’d done was a bad idea and broke the rules but wasn’t wrong in itself. I wanted them crying hard but didn’t think they needed to be pushed over the edge.

The paddle swatted down on his left cheek, then his right, back and forth from top to bottom, darkening his already red bottom. I skipped down to place a couple of swats on his legs, then back up to finish with a couple on each sit spot. Since I wasn’t covering the same area more than once (except the last few on the sit spots), I wasn’t worried about the color and let the paddle fall much more quickly than normal, inviting Stevie to shriek almost continuously the entire time.

Not a minute after I’d gotten Steve over my lap, I helped him back up, then pulled him against my chest and gestured for Nolan to join us. I had one arm around each of them, and Nolan had one arm wrapped around me and Stevie. Both of them were still crying pretty hard, though Nolan had stopped shaking from his sobs. I held them like that for a couple of minutes, letting them get some comfort and control, before I let them go. When they felt my arms drop away, they reluctantly stepped back.

"Back where you were; hands on your head, noses against the wall. I want you two thinking about how easy it would have been for you to avoid this. Understand me?"

Both boys nodded their tear stained faces at me and turned to obey. I sat back and watched the two red rears twitching as each boy squeezed his cheeks or bent his legs trying to get rid of some of the sting. It was a pleasant sight, but I finally said quietly, "Hold still, and you can come out in a minute."

As soon as they’d forced themselves to stillness, I put the chair back where it went and moved over to the couch, spreading my legs so there was room for both boys.

"Okay, you can turn around and rub if you want."

Both of them did, and they made a cute sight as they bobbed around, rubbing theatrically. Both of them were to the sniveling, leaking part of the crying, but I knew most of the real aching agony must be already gone. One funny thing I noticed, as the bouncing around slowed was that, soft as they were now, they both looked about the same size, in length and thickness.

"C’mere when you’re through."

I guess they needed comfort and contact more than to rub out a bit more sting, and both of them climbed—carefully—onto the couch and settled down as much in my lap as they both could at the same time. I just held both of them quietly for a minute, and enjoyed the closeness. Both of them were really good boys, and they were very good about accepting their punishment as another aspect of my love. I’d always been a bit shocked by how Nolan took a spanking, but maybe that was because he’d gone so long without one and was able to see it in a more mature way. I know Steve and I had gone through some hard times with him being angry after every spanking before he understood that sometimes what he needed wasn’t pleasant, and he was able to see that spanking him, and especially his anger afterwards, did hurt me (even if I did enjoy the spanking itself). I doubt they were quite enjoying it, but being able to sit quietly, secure in our love for each other was a wonderful thing, totally different and separate from my enjoyment of the actual spanking.

"Nolan," I said after a while, "I forgot to ask you a question."

"You did?" he replied in a thick, languid voice.

"Yeah. Do you want to get spanked with Stevie, or should I take you home?"

A snort of laughter escaped him, but it was Steve who answered. "A bit late now."

"Yeah, I guess it is." I paused for a second. I’m not sure when I’d realized I hadn’t offered Nolan the choice, but I knew what I intended to do about it, so I went on. "You guys are best friends, right?"

"Yeah," they both agreed, a bit puzzled that I had to ask.

"And you like spending time over here, right, Nolan?"

"Yeah! I’d like it even if I didn’t have sisters. Dad’s great, but he doesn’t like all the cool stuff you do."

I gave him a slightly firmer squeeze for that before getting to the point. "Well, neither of you has a brother, and you’re best friends, and you spend a lot of time over here, so I think I shouldn’t give you the choice anymore, Nolan. How do you feel if I just treat you like part of the family?"

Nolan never really answered the question. Instead he leaned back, and his eyes that I thought had been starting to dry up were actually starting to leak tears again. I think he might have tried to say something, but his mouth just gaped like a goldfish. Then he let go of my neck—but only long enough to move his arms and include Stevie in his hug—then he buried his face in my neck again. Given his silence, I don’t think Steve had any objections, either. His only response was to wrap an arm around Nolan again, making it a real group hug.

After a long moment of companionable silence, Nolan finally spoke up. "Hey, Jack. I’ve already got a dad. Should I start calling you Uncle Jack, or were you thinking about being my grandpa?"

I glared at him for a moment, then turned to my son. "You see, Stevie, you try to be nice to someone, and they turn into a smart alec."

Both boys enjoyed a little laugh, though there was a groan when one of them shifted his bottom around too much.

"Now, if you guys think you can stand to put something over those rear ends, how ‘bout you go get dressed, and we’ll finish some Christmas shopping."

They did, and we actually had a good time. The only complaint I heard the rest of the night was that the seats in the food court needed cushions.





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