Troy at Six Flags
It had been a long week for Troy. I have no problem with spanking him, but I make sure he understands that I control the relationship. Unlike the rest of my boys, Troy very literally asks for spankings when he’s ready for one. Also unlike the rest of them, he doesn’t get one every time he asks for it. I can be a burden and disappointment to the poor boy at times.
I honestly believe that Troy would be happy to go to bed with a warm, throbbing bottom every night. I don’t think that’s a good idea for several reasons. First, he’s only 17. Even though the law could conceivably consider spanking him as a sexual act, thus illegal until he turns 18, I’m not worried about that. I am worried about the fact that I enjoy spanking him as much as he enjoys being spanked, and I don’t want to test my self-control on a daily basis for the next seven months. In the second place, right now the guys accept that Troy gets spanked like the rest of them do. As far as I know, only Steven knows the truth. As a teenager (and while he’s well-behaved, he’s not especially mature), Troy can’t always be trusted to make the best decisions for himself—particularly not on something as insubstantial as his reputation. So I spank him on a semi-regular basis and try to do most of them in extreme privacy. My kids know he gets spanked, but I don’t think anyone, including his brother Steven, knows how often. As long as he behaves, I usually manage to give him a good spanking on most Saturday nights, but not always.
I’ve had to travel the last two weekends, which meant no Saturday night spankings for my naughty boy. When I came home the first weekend, Troy was all over me, begging for a spanking; but I had to deal with all the other boys as well and was honestly pretty tired, so I told him no. He was disappointed but didn’t argue with me. After a little thought, I tracked him down and told him that he needed a little extra punishment and so wasn’t allowed to masturbate until after I’d spanked him. He whined a bit but at least pretended that he was going to obey me.
I waited until Tuesday night, after the youngest kids had gone to bed to go to the room Troy’s sharing with Steven. Troy has no objection to getting spanked in front of his brother and enjoys it at times. Steven doesn’t mind watching, though he doesn’t enjoy it nearly as much as Troy does when the situation’s reversed.
The look in Troy’s eyes left no doubt of his hopes, and I didn’t disappoint him. Both boys were lying around in just their briefs when I came in. Normally, neither boy is shy around me anymore, but Troy started to blush and cover himself when I reached over to take their paddle from the wall.
They both watched me with hope in their eyes as I walked across the room to the desk where I’d sit to take either of them across my lap. Troy’s eyes glazed with lust that I was finally going to spank him; Steven’s were more nervous, hoping that I’d not discovered something he’d forgotten he’d done.
I took my time, ignoring both boys as I went, taking the chair from Steven’s desk and turning it to face the room, then finally taking my seat. Patting the paddle against the palm of my left hand, I looked to Steven’s bed. "Steven," I addressed him in a calm, but rather cool voice, then paused for a moment. A look of mild anguish crept over his features. Steven always remembers his deal with me and never tries to convince me that he is too old to spank, and there is no use trying to convince me that spankings aren’t effective with him, since he knows that paddle will reduce him to a quivering, bawling mess just as quickly as it would Barry or Josh. Still, you could tell he was trying to guess what I’d discovered and what he could say to get out of it, when I continued, "Would you like a nice hand spanking before I deal with your brother?"
Fear was replaced with relief, then replaced by minor irritation as he realized I’d only been teasing him. Yet under the irritation was happiness, since he knew the teasing came from my fondness for him, and he couldn’t hide a small smile as he answered, with sarcasm seeping from his tone, if not actually dripping, "No, I think I’ll sleep on my back tonight. Thanks, anyway."
When I turned to Troy, he’d already pushed himself up from his prone position. "Are you ready?" I asked, and he tried to answer, but his usual last second nerves had taken over and he simply nodded, even as he licked his lips and tried to swallow. I motioned for him, and he came across to me and put his hands on his head.
Even before I lowered his briefs, there was no doubt that he was excited, and I nearly got smacked in the face as I slid the white cotton to his ankles and helped him step out of them. I tossed the briefs towards his bed, then guided him across my knees, though he needed no help by this time.
The spanking was no different from most of the dozens I’ve given the boy in the last year. I started with a long hand spanking that left his pale skin a deep red and had him writhing and moaning—though not necessarily in pain. When my hand had a good sting to it, I reached behind me for the paddle.
Troy loves, trusts, and respects me, and knows I feel the same about him. Still, he’s a boy, and while he loves being spanked, I’ve also punished him in a similar manner, and he knows that I can push him past his limits until it becomes pure pain and punishment for him. I’ve never done it with that paddle, and I’d probably have to leave his little bottom a solid bruise to do it, but I think there’s still a hint of fear in Troy that this time might be the time I push him too far. Even while he loves the throbbing burn, I think the fear adds a touch more spice to it for him, knowing that I could make it a real punishment, if I chose. I didn’t—he didn’t deserve it—but I did give him what he wanted; a long paddling, almost exactly like I’d give one of the younger boys that left his cheeks and upper legs crimson and had him crying loud and hard, though not quite bawling.
I have to admit to being a bit surprised when I let the boy up. As always, he twisted to sit in my lap, and I wasn’t surprised by his little erection, since he always has one of those, unless it’s been a real punishment. What surprised me was the dampness at the end of it, and the wet spot on my leg. He obviously had business to deal with, so I made our cuddling session a little shorter than normal and left the two of them to their own concerns, while I rushed to deal with some business of my own that had come up.
The next Friday night, Troy was very put out with me. "But you’ll be gone all weekend! Why can’t you do it tonight?"
"The most important reason, Troy, is that I said no. Now, if you don’t stop pestering me, I might decide you need to go without for a couple of weeks."
The boy rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, making sure I knew exactly how unreasonable I was, and how put upon and oppressed he was, but he held his peace.
"Why don’t you go ask Steven to spank you?"
"He doesn’t do it very good."
"Well, PJ and Chris do a good job; why don’t you misbehave around them this weekend and see what happens?" I asked, only partially in sarcasm.
It’s interesting to watch Troy with my boys. He’s in the same grade as Charlie and Bobby, who’ve apparently known him since their freshman year, and they treat him about like anyone else their age. However, when I first met Troy, he looked like he was a big 11 year old, or maybe 12. After a year and a half, he definitely looks 12, and that’s how most of the kids treat him. I’m sure PJ knows that Troy is actually 17, but it would be interesting to see how he treated him if something happened.
Given the way Troy blushed when I made the suggestion, I didn’t think my curiosity would ever be fulfilled, though. "No way!" he assured me, which was a bit disappointing, but I wasn’t going to push.
"Then you’re going to have to wait until I feel like doing it, Troy. I’m tired and I have a million things to do. I love you, but not tonight."
He wasn’t happy, but smiled at the reminder of my feelings for him and gave me a hug. I’d thought about adding that I had a headache, but didn’t think he’d get the joke or appreciate it if he did. Seeing that smile, I was glad I refrained.
I didn’t see him at all Saturday, and was really too busy Sunday afternoon. I wasn’t comfortable spanking him at the hotel Sunday night, but I was also becoming a bit obstinate about the matter, feeling a bit persecuted and digging in my heels. "I think I told you this, but it’s two ways. I won’t ever spank you when you don’t want it… Well, unless it’s actual punishment; but I’m not going to do it when I’m too busy or not comfortable with it, do you understand?"
He admitted he did, but you could also tell he was a little down about it. I know how it feels, but you can’t always expect others to bend to your will, and it didn’t hurt for him to learn that in a fairly non-painful way.
The next day, I tried to spend some time with all of the boys. I knew the youngest kids were going to need the most supervision, but Tina took them in the morning, and I ended up with Steven and Troy for a while. We’d had a snack, ridden a couple of rides, had just come out of the bathroom, and Troy and I were waiting while Steven looked through a souvenir shop when something caught my eye.
Four boys were walking into the empty restroom we’d just left. Once upon a time, I would have followed them in, trying for a peek of something. The boys were about 12 or 13; two of them were blonds, one with shoulder length hair, another was a light brown, and the last a dark brown. All of them were in good shape, fairly tanned, wearing baggy shirts and tees, and all were reasonably cute.
I glanced back at Steven, who was still shopping, then grabbed Troy by the arm and started marching that way.
"You like Steven watching when you get spanked?" I asked him quietly. He was coming along with me, but was obviously a bit confused as he admitted it.
"Then I have a real treat for you. Just follow my lead and call me Dad."
His eyes were wide as he looked from me to the bathroom door we were rapidly approaching, but he didn’t resist. Right as I reached for the door, I switched my hand from Troy’s arm to his neck, giving it enough of a squeeze to bring his head back and his shoulders up, and then I launched into my part.
"I am tired of your mouth, mister." The door swung open and we stepped in. The four boys were lined up at the urinals, and the darkest haired boy looked back over his shoulder at us. I switched my hold back to his upper arm and steered him towards the handicapped stall.
"I reminded you that you’d want some extra money for today. No one made you buy that new video game, no one made you play those games on the midway, so it’s no one else’s fault that you’re already out of money. I told you that I’d feed you, but that wasn’t good enough for you, so now I’m going to settle this." We’d gone into the stall while I was still lecturing him, and he’d peppered the lecture with assorted ‘Dad’s’ and ‘buts’ while I kept going right over the top of him. "Now, get those shorts down."
"Dad, please, not here. There’re guys in here."
"You should have that of that before, Troy. Now, you mind me, or you’ll get the belt when we get home."
Troy undid the fly on his baggy shorts, and they and his briefs hit his ankles in a flash. He was stiff as a board, and didn’t resist as I turned him to face away from me. I bent forward to wrap my left arm under his right and around his chest, then started smacking.
This wasn’t a long, slow, softly building spanking like I normally gave. I gave each smack a full wind up and was burning them in and doing it fast. Troy was bouncing and yelping as each smack cracked against his little cheeks. I didn’t have to encourage him to put on a show for the other boys, and he started to sound a little teary as my hand started to really sting.
After about 20 smacks, I let him go. "Now, can you keep your mouth shut, so we can all have a good time today, or do I need to send you to the car to wait on your brother and me?"
"I’m sorry," Troy responded, with a little hitch in his voice that I doubt was faked. "I won’t gripe no more."
"All right then. Fix your clothes and we’ll go get something to drink."
I waited for him, then opened the door to the stall, while he was still fastening his shorts. We stepped out to find three of the boys still in the bathroom. The long-haired boy was by the door, looking right at us with wide eyes, and he left as soon as we came out. The shortest boy, who had the darkest hair, was still at the urinals, but the shorter haired blond boy was washing his hands. I gave Troy a slight push towards the sinks and told him to wash his face. He hadn’t cried, but his eyes were pretty red, so I doubted it would hurt him.
I stood next to Troy while he washed his face and realized that the blond boy was watching us. He blushed when he saw me watching him back and quickly finished his hands. When he reached for a towel, it became obvious, even through his baggy shorts, that the boy had enjoyed what he’d heard. When he saw that I’d noticed, he turned a deep crimson and made a beeline for the door. We left before the final kid finished his business.
Steven was standing outside the souvenir stand, looking for us when we came back. The three of us decided on our next ride and headed that way, with Troy telling his big brother what had happened. Given the gleam in his eye, I think Troy’s main complaint was that he’d not had a little private time in the stall.
We stopped for lemon ices and were standing in line at the Texas Giant when I realized those same four boys were in the line behind us. I’m sure they saw Troy and me as well since they started nudging and pointing when the long-haired boy looked in our direction. When we came around a bend and were right across from them, the long-haired boy leaned across to Troy and said (not too quietly), "Dude, your dad is way harsh." Troy reddened a bit and shrugged. When the other three boys moved up in line, the smallest boy, the one with the darkest hair, who also turned out to have very dark brown eyes and to look very neat and rather preppy, lagged behind a second and leaned forward to say something to Troy. Troy smiled, said something back, and they lightly popped each other in the shoulder as the other boy hurried to catch up with his friends.
As we moved ahead, I asked what had been said. Troy smiled and replied, "He said my dad wasn’t that bad. If he’d been mouthing off, he would have gotten spanked here and gotten the belt when they got home."
Looking back over my shoulder, I couldn’t help wonder where the boy lived, and how he’d been behaving that day.