Wesley Maddox
It must be a very lucky man who has cute boys wondering out of the wood works. That’s never happened to me, but I have met boys who wondered out of the wood lot. It was mid-fall of 2007. That’s when I was coaching Josh’s soccer team, and we were having practice at my house. Practice was over, the boys were mostly gone, and I was making sure everything was in it’s place. That’s when I saw him.
I’ve already mentioned that the boy was cute, but it doesn’t hurt to repeat it. He was about the same size as Ryan and Barry, maybe 4'10", so I guessed his age at about 11. He had dark brown hair that was cut short enough that it still stood up on top, like he’d had a burr that was growing out. His face was nearly heart-shaped, except for a very round chin. He had ears that stuck out. I think that’s cute, but I’ll bet he took a lot of kidding over it.
For those of you who don’t know it, Fall in Texas can be pretty warm, right up until Thanksgiving, so I wasn’t too surprised that he was wearing blue jean shorts. I was a little surprised that he was shirtless, because there was a mild breeze blowing that day. The nicest thing about him being shirtless was that I could see how lean and tight his upper body was (and the shorts revealed nice legs, with decent little calves). Also, without his shirt, the baggy shorts were far enough down his hips for me to see that he was wearing briefs - Fruit of the Loom I think; not my favorite, but he still made a really cute sight. As soon as he saw me, he started coming my way.
As he got closer, I had the feeling that he wasn’t shirtless by choice. Once I saw him walking, I could tell that he was stiff and sore. Then, as he got closer, I saw that his legs, but especially his upper body were covered with scratches, and they were worse on his arms, suggesting that his upper body had had some protection from whatever had caused the damage.
The trees aren’t that far from where we practice, so it only took him a few seconds to cross to me. "Hello," I started, "Are you okay?" He wasn’t crying or bleeding much, so I wasn’t too worried.
"Yessir, but I’m kinda lost."
"I’d say that’s not your only problem. What happened to you?"
"It’s no big deal. I just fell in some brambles."
It’d happened to me when I was a kid. The only problem was that he was lying. He’d looked at me as he came over to me and when I said hello, but now he glanced at his feet, then looked away for a minute. I’ll bet he never got away with lying to his parents.
"My name’s Jack Wells. Where do you live?"
"Hi, Mr. Wells. I’m Wes Maddox." He told me where he lived, and it wasn’t too far, but I don’t think he just wondered over here by himself to fall in some brambles, either.
"Are your parents home Wes?" He asked what time it was, and said that they wouldn’t be home for another 45 minutes or so.
"Well, why don’t you come in and we can get you doctored up, and find you something to replace your lost shirt."
He said he was okay, but didn’t argue when I took him by the shoulder and led him inside.
Inside, we slowed down to introduce him to my kids. He was 11, and in sixth grade, but none of my boys knew him. He went to Chase Elementary. In my bathroom, I sat him up on the massage table and took a look at him. The thorns had gotten under the legs of his shorts, so I had him take them off. He was pretty stoic about it. His front wasn’t too bad, and I was able to Bactine him pretty quickly. His backside was a lot worse. He wasn’t quite as stoic when I had to pull a couple of thorns that had broken off. I had to slide his briefs down a bit to finish a doctoring a couple of scratches, but his jeans had protected most of that area, and I didn’t have an excuse to pull them down more than an inch or so. They fit him rather loosely, so I couldn’t get a good idea of what that little bottom looked like. Since his bottom didn’t seem to be hurt; though, I did give him a medium firm swat when I finished with him.
While I’d been touching him up, I also asked a few questions.
Wes, how did you fall in those thorns?"
"Oh, he said, looking away again. He paused for a second obviously gathering his thoughts. "I was just kinda running, and I tripped on something and fell into them."
"You’re lucky your face didn’t get scratched up." He looked back at me, maybe hearing the doubt in my voice. His eyes were more hazel than green, now that we were out of the sunlight, but he still couldn’t force a false innocence into them. "No one was with you when you feel?"
He looked away again. "No, sir. I was just out by myself."
I’d sent Ryan to get a shirt for Wes to wear, since the sun was down and it was starting to get cool. He’d come in with a Rugby shirt that would have probably kept him warm for the walk home, but I didn’t plan on having him do that. As Wes dressed, I looked at my watch and told him that his dad should be home by now. "I don’t want him worrying about you, and I don’t want to worry about you getting lost again, so I’m going to give you a ride home."
Wes clearly wanted to refuse, but it’s hard for an 11-year old boy to refuse a grown man, when the boy knows he’s in the wrong. I did give him a treat and took the convertible, even though it was too cold to let down the top. It was a short drive to his house, and I startled him again in his driveway, when I turned the car off and got out with him. He looked at me, and I dropped the bad news on him. "I think I need to talk to your dad."
Wes took me inside, and a voice asked, "Wes, is that you?"
"Yes, sir. There’s someone here who wants to talk to you, Dad." As he said it, you could hear the nervousness in his voice.
Wes introduced us, and I told Mr. Maddox how I’d met his son, and what I’d done. Then I dropped the bombshell that I’m sure Wes had been praying not to hear. "Wes says he tripped and fell into the brambles; but, he’s lying about it for some reason. I think someone pushed him, and he’s either afraid to tell on them, or just doesn’t want to snitch."
I told Mr Maddox my reasoning, but especially that Wes had obviously fell backwards, not forwards, into the bush. Mr Maddox examined the scratches and came to the same conclusions I had.
"Wes," his father asked him, "do you want to tell me what really happened?"
"Please, Dad..."
"Tell me now, Wesley Adam."
"I can’t." The poor kid was obviously miserable.
"So, you’re admitting you lied to Mr. Wells?"
I felt really bad for him now, but he admitted it. "Yes, sir. I’m sorry."
"Not as sorry as you’re going to be, son. Go to your room and get bared."
"DAD! Please..."
His father interrupted him. "Unless you feel like telling the truth, then you can just go."
"Yessir." He mumbled, barely audible at all. He didn’t say anything else, but turned and walked off.
Mr Maddox and I spoke for a few minutes, leaving the poor kid to wait and worry in his room. Because of that, I tried to keep it short, though I actually liked talking to his dad. Then, something occurred to me.
"I should probably get back to my own boys, while the house is still standing; but, I do need to get that shirt back from Wes."
"Oh, sure. I should get to him, anyway. I like to let him stew a few minutes, but it’s not fair to keep him waiting too long.
Mr Maddox led me to his son's room. The door was only partially shut, and we went in. It was a nice room; neat for a boy's, with all the standard things you’d expect - bed, dresser, desk, and a small TV with a PS2 on the stand. What I really liked was that he also had a bookshelf that was crammed with stuff. None of that really caught my attention, though. The furniture was set against the wall, leaving the middle of the room free. Into the middle, the desk chair had been sat. In the seat of the chair there lay a round, wooden paddle, very close in shape to a paddleball paddle, but larger and thicker, and it had a number of holes drilled through it. It reminded me very much of one I’d seen on Hansen Percussion Instruments once.
Wes clothes lay near the foot of his bed, and he lay on it, totally bare. He looked up when we came in. He’d must have been thinking about what was coming, because his eyes were red and damp. He’d rolled over when he heard us come in, but when he saw me behind his dad, his face went scarlet and he covered his little privates with both hands.
"Don’t be silly, Wes. Mr Wells spanks his boys’ bare bottoms too, and he used to be a gym coach. I’m sure seeing your little prick isn’t going to bother him or impress him." Wes moved his hands, but quickly sat up on the edge of his bed and leaned forward, covering himself. Mr Maddox shook his head, like he thought Wes was being ridiculous, but he didn’t say anything else about it.
"Mr Wells needs to get the shirt back that his son lent you." Embarrassed, but not able to disobey or cover himself, Wes did give me a view of a little peter that was pretty much like 90% of all the other pre-pubescent peter’s I’d seen through the years. As he picked up the shirt and handed it to me, his dad addressed him again.
"Well, did you change your mind about tellling me what happened, Wes?" The boy tried to answer, but was actually choked up, so he just shook his head. "All right then. Let me show Mr Wells out, and I’ll be back to take care of business.
After Mr Maddox had closed the door, I looked around for a minute. Wes’s room wasn’t near the front of the house; and, unless I felt like climbing the fence, I wasn’t going to get back there very easily. Feeling I missed something, I went home.
The next day, I was in the kitchen while the boys ate their after-school snacks, when Caleb told me that someone was there to see me. I usually ignore the front door in the afternoons, because it’s normally for one of the boys. I looked up, and was surprised that my visitor was Wes. He looked much different in brown corduroy slacks and a hunter’s green pullover. I led him to my office, so we could talk privately.
"Hi, Mr. Wells. My dad said I should come by today, because I forgot to say thank you for cleaning me up, and taking me home, and everything. Also, I’m really sorry about lying to you."
"If you’re sorry about it, Wesley, why’d you do it?"
"Because my friend Mike hangs out with this guy that doesn’t like me very much, and he’s kinda a bully. Mike got me to go down to the creek yesterday, but Darren, the other guy, was waiting for us. They’d planned it together, because Darren was telling Mike I was queer and saying he was queer on me and stuff. When I saw them, I ran, but they caught me. That’s how come I was kinda lost. When they got me, they threw me in the thorn bush."
"Did you tell your dad that?"
"Yes, sir. When you left, he spanked me. After dinner, he told me that spanking was for lying to you, and now it was time to spank me for disobeying him. He spanked me again, then he told me again to tell him what had really happened. I wouldn’t, so he told me to get ready for bed, and after my bath, I was gonna get the belt. Dad’s never whipped me with the belt before..." Just from telling me this, the boy was starting to tear up, and his chin was quivering. I’m not sure if he was reliving the pain and fear, or if he felt really bad about disappointing his father. Probably some of both.
"Anyway," he said, as he got a little control of himself, "I told Dad what happened. He called Mike and Darren’s parents. They both had to apologize to me and they both got spankings last night. I really didn’t want Mike to get in trouble. His dad spanks him with the belt all the time, and he does it in the living room, in front of his little brother and everything. He hates that. He wouldn’t have done nothin’ if Darren hadn’t been bugging him." Then he cheered up a bit. "But, Darren’s mom said he was gonna get the switch! Do you know what that is?"
I assured him that I did know what a switch is, and that I’d been on both ends of one in my life. Then, I convinced him that, since he’d been punished for lying to me, it was only fair that I got to take a look at his bottom. He blushed a bit, but turned around and dropped his pants for me. Of course the redness was gone, but there were a few little half-moon marks, probably left by the holes. They weren’t real distinct, and I doubt I would have seen them if I hadn’t known to look. I put my left hand on his belly and pushed him forward a bit, then started to rub his bottom.
"If I can still see these, I’ll bet you had trouble sitting still in school today."
Just from his voice, I could tell he was smiling. "Yessir! Dad says I’m lucky. When he was a kid, the teachers mighta paddled me for not sitting still. That woulda really hurt.
Postscript:
I invited Wes to join us for a snack. Ryan, Huck, and Barry stayed and talked with him, and they all hit it off. They hit it off so well that Wes stayed for dinner that night, and has been a frequent visitor since then. The next Friday night, Wes spent the night with us. When Mr Maddox dropped him off, he made it very clear that, not only did I have permission to spank Wes, if I thought he needed it, but that he’d put Wes’s paddle in the overnight bag. Wes smiled as you might at a joke that made you sick to your stomach. It hasn’t really mattered much, because Wes is actually a very thoughtful and well-behaved young men. The closest I’ve come to spanking him was one night when I just couldn’t get him and Barry to settle down. I finally gave them the choice of going to bed right then, or getting some ‘reminder’ spanks. If they took the reminders and didn’t settle down, they’d be in for the brush. Despite the threat, they both took the reminders. I had them drop their briefs and bend over side-by-side. Back and forth, I gave each boy three swats that had them jumping up and rubbing those little bottoms, as soon as I was through. Wes doesn’t have much shyness left after a few months hanging around my house. Besides that, I did ‘forget’ about his birthday, until they’d already gotten ready for bed, so I had to give his birthday swats on his undies. My 12 swats weren’t too bad, but the seven other boys there each got to give him ‘one to grow on’, and he was glowing pretty good through those Jockeys, when I let him up.