Terry Kirk

The summer after Mom married Ralph, we moved across town to the newer section, where they were doing a lot of construction. By a weird coincidence of geography, it was also adjacent to the oldest part of town. However, when we moved, we also moved our membership to the new church congregation, which was quite a bit closer to us. For some reason, that church had it’s bible classes in groups of two, so third and fourth grade were together. That’s where I met Toby Kirk.

Toby had medium blond hair that grew darker as he grew. As a boy, and even into his early adulthood, he was always tall and lean. He had a very pleasant face and beautiful blue eyes. I always enjoyed looking at him, and the fact that he was practically a shorter copy of his older brother, Terry, made things doubly fun. Going home from church with them and changing clothes was always a treat for me. I loved seeing the two of them in their briefs. The only real difference was that, though both of them were medium blond at that point, Toby was already a little darker than Terry, and Terry never did go brown, the way his little brother did.

Toby was a year younger than me. We didn’t hit it off right away. We actually didn’t become friends until we ran into each other at the public library one day. He introduced me to Susan Cooper and I introduced him to The Hobbit.

Toby and I began to spend time together, mostly on Sunday afternoons. One of us would go home with the other after church, then our parents would pick us up at the evening service.

I don’t remember exactly when it was. I think it was fall of our sixth grade year. I was early fall. Toby had just turned 11 and I was about 6 months older than him. I don’t even remember what we were doing that day, just sitting on Toby’s bed - talking, playing checkers, reading - I’m not sure. He shared the room with his big brother, Terry. It wasn’t real big, and was a little cramped with two twin beds, a desk, dresser, bookcase, and toy box. Heck, the closet they shared wasn’t any bigger than mine.

I was leaning back against the wall when the door to the bedroom pushed - nearly slammed - open. Terry came in, followed - really led from the rear - by his father. The first thing I noticed was that Terry’s hands were at his pants and his pants were unbuttoned. He was taking the zipper down as they entered the room, his father’s hand on his shoulder propelling him towards his bed. It was clear what was going on, because Mr. Kirk had a belt in his other hand. And then Terry saw us.

"Dad," he protested, letting his pants fall open as he pointed at us.

"NOW!" his father thundered.

Glaring at us, Terry stepped over to the foot of his bed, shoved his pants and briefs to his knees. I’d seen Terry in his briefs a lot over the time Toby and I had been friends, but never naked. I’d seen a lot of naked boys by this time, but not many older ones. The first thing I noticed was that his balls were HUGE! I don’t know if it was really true, but it looked that way, because they hung lower than his dick, which looked pretty big itself. At 12, he probably wasn’t real huge, but he had a little hair above it, showing how developed he was in reality, as opposed to in my memory. As soon as he was bare, he fell forward onto the bed. He shoved his hands above his head and grabbed the sides of the bed.

As soon as Terry was in position, the belt flew up by their father’s head, then came crashing down. It sounded like a rifle shot as it smashed down on Terry’s bottom. His feet came up and he thrashed from side to side, lifting his hips off the bed. His father waited patiently for the boy to settle down, before bringing the belt up again. At the same time as Terry was thrashing, Toby was pulling on my arm. I turned to him.

"Let’s go," he whispered to me harshly.

I let Toby drag me out of the room while I watched Terry’s writhing. Their dad barely glanced at us as the belt came down again. He’d been silent the first time, but I heard his grunt right after the belt cracked down the second time.

I didn’t see his reaction then, because Toby pulled the door closed, behind us, then told me he had to go to the bathroom. The door hadn’t latched, so I stood there, peaking at what I could - mostly Mr. Kirk’s back. Still, through the crack, I could see the belt raise up and begin it’s trip back down. More, I could hear everything clearly.

The belt came up again and again. I could hear the bed squeak as Terry thrashed around the bed. His father wasn’t lecturing at all, but the belt was slow and methodical. With the second swat, I heard Terry grunt right after the crack of the belt. With the third, it was a yell. The fourth brought a louder yell, and after the fifth, I thought I could hear crying. After the sixth shot echoed around the room, there was no question that Terry was crying and crying hard. The seventh brought, less a yell than a howl. And after the eight, it was hard to tell where the scream ended and crying began.

At one point, Mr. Kirk had to lean forward and I heard him say something. At first I thought he was moving the boy’s hands, but I leaned closer to the door and saw Terry’s hands still clenched on the side of the bed. I guess Mr. Kirk was rolling the boy back to his stomach. Whatever it was, after a few second pause, Mr. Kirk stood and I saw the belt come up again.

With the ninth stroke, Terry broke. He was bawling loud and hard and, even after the next stroke landed, you could barely hear a change in his voice. But the belt still came up and down again. Ten. Eleven. And twelve, before it finally stopped.

After the last stroke, Mr. Kirk stepped back and began to thread the belt through his pants again. When he stepped back, I could see Terry’s lower body. His legs were jerking, like he wanted to be kicking but was just too tired or sore. He was thrashing a bit, but with very little energy, more of a slow rocking motion that raised each hip a bit off the bed before he started the other direction.

About that time, I heard the toilet flush, so I quickly moved to stand across from the bathroom door. About the time Toby came out, his father was coming from the bedroom. Mr. Kirk gave me a quizzical look, but I ignored it and stepped past Toby, into the bathroom.

My little peter was stiff as wood, but I managed a few squirts before coming back out. Toby and I went to the kitchen and got a drink before going back to his room.

Walking back into the room the boys shared, Terry was still laying in the same place on the bed. I was able to get a look at his round, firm bottom like I hadn’t been before. It was lean like he was, with rather deep dimples, but not flat at all. It was also streaked red from the strap.

Terry was still in almost the same position. He was still laying over the bed, but he’d let go of the sides and his hands had come down a bit. He also had his head turned towards the room, his eyes closed, and he was softly snoring through a nose clogged by his hard crying.

"Terry?" his brother softly inquired.

Terry didn’t reply and Toby stepped forward and softly ran his hand across his brother’s butt.

"Is that how your dad spanks you?" I asked him as he stepped back.

"Yeah," he replied, casting a last, compassionate look at his sleeping brother, then glancing back at me and moving towards his own bed. "Lately. Used to be, I just got his hand mostly, but he said, after I turned 10, I’m big enough for the belt. It hurts bad."

"I know. I get it too," I admitted.

"Bare?"

"Yeah."

We went back to what we’d been doing, before the interruption, but I turned so I could watch Terry.

I don’t remember quite what time it had been when Terry’s spanking started, but it must have been fairly late in the afternoon. It seemed like not too long went by before Mr. Kirk came in and told us to start getting ready for evening services. He walked over and shook Terry awake before leaving the room.

Terry came awake groggily and just lay there for a minute, watching Toby and I as we stripped down to our jockeys. Have you ever cried yourself to sleep? I didn’t understand it then, but you’re going to wake up with a headache, because you’re already dehydrated from crying before you lay there with your mouth open for a while. Finally he started putting things together.

"It’s time for church?"

"Not really. You know your dad always wakes us up early," I told him. "It’s just now 5 o’clock."

Terry nodded, then he got up, pulled his briefs up and took the rest of his clothes off. He was a little shaky on his feet and obviously still sore, but he made his way to the bathroom. For myself, I was too worried about their little sister coming out of her room to do that, but they seemed comfortable about it.

He seemed much better when he came back. Not that Toby and I noticed too much. We were too busy rolling around on the floor. I think Toby enjoyed the feeling of our bodies rubbing together as much as I did. After all, wrestling is one of the few ways that is acceptable for American boys to really unleash their homoerotic impulses without people talking. I also think that our tendency to do that more often when we were dressing and undressing might have been noticed and been the reason that Mr. Kirk tended to give us about an hour’s notice to get ready.

When Terry came back in, Toby pushed me off and we stood up.

"Hey, Terry?"

"Yeah," the other boy replied, as he was digging through his closet.

"Jack wanted to see your dick hairs."

I went red when Toby announced that. Terry turned to look at me and I wished I could die. It didn’t seem to bother him, though. "Okay, if I can see yours."

"I-I d-don’t have any," I stammered.

"I didn’t mean your hairs. Anyway, you’ve already seen everything I have, so…" he finished, gesturing at my shorts. I shoved them down. A second later, Terry did the same.

Toby had been telling the truth. Terry really didn’t have much. It was a sparse little line of straight, but wiry hairs that were slightly darker than on his head. It was really pretty kewl. Not that it was the first time I’d seen an older boy naked, though not many of them, as I’d said, but it was the first time I’d been able to stand there and check one out.

A couple of minutes later, all three of us were standing there - briefs around our knees, boners in our hands. I’d done some experimenting before, but I’d never really heard of a dick contest. As you’d expect at that age, it turned out that Toby was maybe ½ inch shorter than me - or I was a head longer. I’d not even noticed that I was getting bigger, but comparing to Toby, I saw that my balls were starting to dangle a bit and that I was thicker than he was - even if it was only a ballpoint compared to a Sharpie. Terry, on the other hand, really was huge, at least compared to one boy who was totally pre-pubescent and another who was barely adolescent.

I had seen older boys undressed before, but never hard and I was really impressed - and a little scared. I had no problems thinking about the games I’d played with Aaron and Van, and later with David, and imagining playing them with Toby, but I just couldn’t imagine doing anything with Terry. I remember thinking, even as we were casually rubbing each other, that the size must be the reason grown-up guys didn’t play games like that together.

After a few minutes, Terry seemed to come to himself. "I think we’d better get dressed. I don’t need another whipping today," he informed us as he turned back towards his closet.