Zack Thomas

(Please note: this story takes place the evening of the same day as Christopher Allen Part 2)

It was always hard to get Bobby down to sleep. He wouldn’t even try it in his own room. I had to put him down in my room and stay with him until he fell asleep. I understood that he was still panicky about being deserted, and I’d talked to his therapist enough to know that I was going to have to nurse him out of it over a long period of time. It could be a little annoying at times, but at least he was only seven, so once I had him down, he usually went down hard and stayed down.

I walked back into the living room where Chris and Zack were lying on the floor in their underwear, playing a game of Magic. We’d really been having a good evening. We’d picked up pizza on the way home, we’d watched a couple of Pokemon cartoons I’d recorded, then we’d played a little mini-tournament of Pokemon among the four of us before Bobby had started nodding. As soon as I’d gone to tuck Bobby in, the two of them had switched to Magic, which we’d been teaching Chris.

My only disappointment in the scene was that they were both wearing boxers. It was even more aggravating since I knew Zack normally wore briefs. I guess he used the boxers like sleeping pants. The fact that once Chris had seen Zack in boxers he’d wanted to borrow a pair of Aaron’s was just the cherry on top. Oh well, I’d dealt with bigger disappointments in my life.

They started to move aside and asked me to join them, but I told them to finish up their game while I took care of a few things, and we’d do a multi-player next. They turned back to it, while I took care of some stuff in the kitchen, then sat down a minute.

I was glad to finally have a bit of quiet at the end of the day. From where I sat, Zack and Chris were easily within my view, but all their attention was on the game, so I would have been able to examine their slender, boyish bodies if I’d wished. Ordinarily I would have loved to, even though I’d seen both of them more undressed than this more than once. Even now, I was looking at them—but not really studying them. It was more like looking at a familiar work of art when you want to let your mind wander.

I’d been surprised at how Chris had taken his spanking that morning. Not that he’d taken it stoically, but that he’d had such a good attitude afterwards. Which doesn’t mean I was complaining, but I did want to understand why. I wouldn’t have minded if the kid liked getting spanked, but it would have affected the way I acted towards him. He didn’t behave like I’d expect if that were the case, though. I finally decided that it had to come down to one of two things. Either he was focused on pleasing me, and he felt that taking a spanking did please me, which meant he either intuited that I was a spanko, or that he just wanted to show me how well he followed the rules or accepted the consequences. The other possibility was that he was almost entirely now- or future-focused, and once the spanking was in the past, he left it there.

With a little thought, I decided it was a bit of both. Or maybe even just his natural attitude, since I’d only seen him a little down once or twice in the months I’d been spending time with him—and never seen him really depressed.

I stopped to settle a rules question for the two boys and started to pick up a magazine, but my thoughts had become focused on spanking, and I switched them to Zack.

There was no question in my mind that Zack Thomas was an extremely cute boy. He had dark brown hair and eyes, but fairly light skin. At that time, he was about three months shy of his thirteenth birthday but didn’t look it. The boy had barely started the earliest stages of puberty and was about average size for a boy two years younger than him. He wasn’t as ADHD as Chris, but he showed a lot of the signs. He was smart and active. He didn’t like organized sports, but he did enjoy playing soccer and baseball with his friends. He rode his bike a lot and played around on a skateboard. He enjoyed reading, but only when there was nothing else to do. He was lean and firm and just plain fun to be around.

I’d known Zack a fair amount longer than I had Chris, actually—about a year by that time. I’d just never spent as much time with Zack because he actually had two full families rather than one partial one. Zack lived with his mom on the far side of town, not far from where I’d grown up actually; and he’d attended Woods Elementary, where I’d gone the first year it was open. His mom seemed like a flake to me. She certainly had her own prejudices and was happy to share them with everyone. Still, she was mostly harmless and I didn’t have to put up with her much. I knew she was married and had a kid by her second husband, but I didn’t even know their names.

It was his father’s family with whom I was really familiar. The first time I met Zack, he’d come in with Chris McMillan and he’d introduced himself as Chris’s little brother. Chris was sixteen at the time and had been playing Magic a year or two. I really liked him, and he was pretty darned cute, but he lost a lot of points with me right then when he corrected Zack by saying they were stepbrothers. I could tell it hurt Zack, so I made a special point of spending a little time with him the rest of the day, helping him with his deck and playing a couple of games with him.

Over that summer, Zack became a regular fixture at the store. His step-mom didn’t work, so he spent most of his summer at his dad’s house, which wasn’t far from the store. He’d ride his bike up there for a while almost every day, looking for someone with whom to trade or play. If no other kids were around, he’d try to chivvy me into playing with him. He wasn’t very good, so I was trying to train him as much as anything.



I remember one afternoon in the summer of ‘98 when it was just the two of us. I was playing him with one of my fun decks (as opposed to a tournament deck, fun decks are meant to be played for a while, not cut the other guy’s throat as fast as you can) and we were both joking around. He was a little sloppy with his play, though (as you probably expect from a borderline hyper twelve-year-old), but I finally decided to call him on it.

"I just might spank you if you do that again, Zack."

The boy’s head popped up and his eyes went wide. "Do what?"

"Don’t hand me that, mister," I said in a mock-stern voice. "I’ve told you about four times already that it’s upkeep, then draw. If you’re going to play in tournaments, you have to get it right. Get me this time?" He nodded, so I walked him through the proper steps one more time.

He went on with his turn, but then, just when I thought the chance had passed, he took the bait. As I started my turn, he asked, "You wouldn’t really spank me, would you?"

I stopped what I was doing and looked up at him. "Well, I could say that you’re cheating because you’re not following the rules right. A cheater certainly deserves a good spanking, doesn’t he?" He nodded glumly. "But I don’t really think you’re cheating. I’ll bet a good spanking would get you to pay attention better, though." He was starting to look a little worried, so I eased his mind. "But no, I wouldn’t really spank you. Not this time, anyway."

He looked a little relieved, but I wanted a little more out of him. "Anyway, as hyper as you are, I’ll bet you’ve already had a spanking this week."

He’d bent down to the cards, but now looked back up, indignant. "I have not!" he assured me. "I ain’t been spanked since…" then his voice trailed off and he turned red, "well, not this week, anyway."

"Oh, yeah?" I challenged. "When was it then?"

His blush deepened a bit, but he admitted in a quiet voice, "Last Thursday; but that was still last week."

"Well, today’s only Tuesday, Zack." I pretended to think about it a moment before announcing, "But it was last week, so I guess you’re right." Then I casually added, as I drew my card and started to play, "Why’d you get spanked anyway?"

He tsked, as if it wasn’t important, but then replied, "Me and Ben were playing around and fixing a snack. Dad told us to settle down, but then we dropped a gallon of milk and Dad saw we was still wrestling around, so…." he trailed off, the rest not needing to be said.

Ben was Zack’s stepbrother, who was a bit more than two years younger. He actually had three of them: Chris was four years older, Daniel was two years older, then Ben. All three were good looking, though Daniel was the most handsome, which was a shame, because he was also a bit of a problem. I’d only met Ben once, but he was the cutest of the three brothers. Actually, Ben didn’t look like the other two; he and Zack really could have passed for brothers. Where Chris had wavy, blond hair and Daniel’s was thick, straight, and brown, they both looked a lot alike in the face—leaner, high cheekbones, a bit of flush to the cheeks, a straight nose, and blue eyes. The main difference was that Daniel had a stronger chin and fuller lips. Chris wasn’t bad looking, but he had an undeveloped look that gave him a youthful appearance. You could tell that Chris was older, but he had a boyish look to him that Daniel didn’t have.

On the other hand, Ben looked more like his dad. He looked a bit like his brothers; his hair was thick and dark like Daniel’s, but it was wavy like Chris’. His features weren’t unlike theirs, but his face was fuller and rounder (which might have just been because he was only ten). The biggest thing was that he had his father’s dark brown eyes. Since Zack had dark brown eyes and brown, wavy hair, with a rounder face than his older stepbrothers, it was easy to think of the two of them being real brothers, even though their features weren‘t real similar.

It was a casual, weekday, summer afternoon. For once, I didn’t have any paperwork awaiting me, and there were plenty of employees to handle the customers. Zack apparently had nowhere to go, and it was hot enough he wasn’t anxious to get outside until later in the day. It was easy to keep him talking and to keep bringing the subject back to spankings.

After a couple of plays had passed, I asked casually, "Does your dad spank pretty hard?"

Zack’s hand had been reaching for a card, but he stopped, looked up at me, and snorted, "Yeah!" He says if you need a spanking, it should be hard."

"Well, I’ve never said that, but I guess it’s pretty much true. I use a paddle to make sure it‘s hard enough when the kids get older."

"A paddle? Like at school?"

"No," I answered, explaining the small ‘lap paddles’ I used in place of my hand when the boys got older or into more trouble.

"My dad uses a belt. On me. He just uses his hand on Ben still. I don’t get it like the big guys do, though. He spanks me kinda like you do."

That sounded curious, since I don’t usually think of a belt and paddle being similar. "How’s that?"

"I saw Daniel get a lickin’ one time, and after he took his clothes off, he had to lay down over the bed. Then Dad doubled his belt up and whupped him. When he spanks me, I still gotta lay down on his legs. He uses my belt and wraps most of it around his hand before he spanks me." He paused and looked up at me for a minute. "It still hurts, though," he rushed to reassure me.

"I’ll bet it does. I never got spanked like that, but I know the belt sure does hurt—especially on your bare bottom."

"How’d you get spanked, Jack?" Zack asked with unabashed curiosity.

"Like Daniel does," I answered simply, and turned back to the game.

We played on another minute, then Zack said, without looking at me this time, "Jack, do you ever pull your kids’ pants down when you spank ‘em?"

"I think that goes with what you just said about your dad, Zack. If you’re going to do it, there’s no reason to leave padding over the bottom."

"You pull down their underwear, too?"

"Does your dad do that?"

The boy turned a dull red and glanced around to make sure no one could overhear him, which wasn’t likely since we were in the room by ourselves. Then he turned back to me and nodded.

"So do I."

He looked relieved a bit, maybe just happy to know his father wasn’t the only one. Then he smiled. "He does me and Ben that way, but he still does Daniel and Chris that way, too."

"Chris still gets spanked?"

"Yeah, he got it just… ummm. It was May, ‘cause Chris’d already turned sixteen, but we were still in school."

"Why’d he get in trouble?" I asked, trying to sound casual while clearing my throat. I can’t tell you how thinking of the cute, smart, boyish, sixteen-year-old boy with his clothes off, over the bed, getting strapped for being naughty affected me, and fortunately, I didn’t have to stand up so no one else noticed.

"I know it was after his birthday, ‘cause he had his driver’s license. He was supposed to be watching us, but he wanted this friend of his to come over, so he went and got him. When he got home, Dad was already there. Dad made him take his friend home, and when he got back, Dad took him to his bedroom. You could hear some arguing, and after a while, you could hear the belt and Chris started yelling and crying."

While he was telling me about that, he had an interesting look on his face. He thought it was funny, but it also bothered him a little bit. I was pretty sure I understood why. I think most boys find someone else getting spanked at least a little amusing, unless it’s someone they love dearly (and sometimes even then). From seeing them together, it looked to me like Zack WANTED to love Chris dearly, but Chris was a little resistant to treating his stepbrother like he did the other boys.

"So, how do you know that Chris had to take his clothes off?" I asked, trying to sound more like I was challenging him than fishing for prurient details.

"Because you can see his bed when the door’s open, and when Dad came out, you could see Chris lying there, and his pants and shorts were around his ankles. I could even see his butt. It was RED!!!"

We went on talking a bit, but I was a little uncomfortable (in a good way) from the description of Chris getting strapped only a month or two ago, so I let the conversation change directions. I could tell that Zack cared for his stepbrothers; however, there were different levels to it. It was obvious that he loved Ben wholly and unreservedly, and that the two of them were great friends. It also seemed obvious that he liked Daniel, but was rather cautious about him, making me think that either Daniel picked on him, or that Daniel was the source of some great sounding ideas that often ended with Zack across his Dad’s lap. The most painful to listen to was when he talked about Chris. I think the boy worshipped Chris and was hurt and confused by Chris’s reticence where he was involved. Maybe I was reading something into it that wasn’t there, but I couldn’t help remembering the look on Zack’s face when Chris introduced him as his stepbrother.

Maybe it was because I was distracting him with conversation, but Zack finally did make that same slip up again, and I called him over to me. He protested and looked towards the door like he was considering running for safety, but he finally came around the table to me. Because of the way we were sitting, he came to my left side. He had his hands over the button of his shorts, like he wasn’t quite sure how serious I was about spanking him, but I reached behind him, placing my left hand on the small of his back, and propelled him across my legs. I reached across his back with my right hand and placed a good, firm smack on each cheek, then a third one right in the middle before helping him up. He’d squirmed at each swat, but taken them quietly. When I let him up, he grabbed his rear, rubbing theatrically while bouncing around and grimacing at me. Then he stopped and stuck his tongue out before jumping around to his own side of the table.

The rest of the game went more quietly, and he managed not to make that mistake anymore. When the game was over, we took his deck apart, and I helped him make a few adjustments and showed him some tricks on how to build a new deck.



Smiling at the memory, thinking of how cute he’d been as he’d gleefully described his stepbrothers’ spankings, I looked up and interrupted their game. "How’s Chris doing, Zack?" Zack had become a really good Magic player over the last year or so. He didn’t do great in the full-tournaments, though he usually did better than most, but he dominated the junior events I held on about a monthly basis, so I trusted him to be teaching Chris well and correctly.

"He’s doing pretty good. You going to play with us now?"

"I’ll jump in when you finish that game." I hesitated, then dropped the bomb. "So, he remembers to do upkeep before he draws?"

Chris assured me he did, and didn’t notice as Zack went a deep red.

Zack and I had become pretty good friends over time. He loved playing Magic, though he sometimes grew tired of playing at the full tournaments. At times, he’d just come up and hang out, playing with the other kids between tournament matches and with me during them. I was okay with that, and he had a good time.

Things changed for him when Pokemon came out. In the first place, the official Pokemon rules called for winners in age brackets, which I’d never thought of doing with Magic. That was a major plus for him, and he started really kicking at the game. The other change wasn’t so good.

"You see," Zack said in a voice that barely avoided being whiny, "I get some money from my mom, and from my dad, and Steve—he’s my step-dad—pays me to mow the lawn. I can’t spend ALL my money on games, though. Mom would kill me if Dad let me live long enough for her to get the chance."

"Well, Zack, I’m sure you want to save money for other stuff. What about Six Flags and Hurricane Harbor?"

"Yeah, and Dad says that if I save half of it, he’ll pay the other half of the bike I want. I know. It’s just.…" His voice trailed away and he looked a little down.

We were looking at cards so didn’t have the table between us. I leaned over and draped an arm around his shoulder. "What’s the problem, kiddo?"

"I want to play Magic AND Pokemon, but I can’t afford to buy the cards for both. My Pokemon deck really rocks right now—thanks for helping me fix it—but I need some more cards to make my new Magic deck work right."

I leaned back to think about it, staring out the window at a beautiful spring day. It was noisy in the game room because they were doing a lot of construction on the upstairs part of the store right then. It was Spring Break, and Zack was hanging around with me that day. By March of 1999, E-bay was on fire and we needed more room for our computer department and for storage, not to mention the number of people showing up for our various card tournaments. The workers were remodeling the top floor so we’d have room for a real computer department, and they were also adding another game room.

"I could use an ice cream, Zack. Want to go for a walk with me?"

He didn’t see how the two connected, but was more than willing to let me buy him a blizzard. As we walked, we talked a little more about the idea for the deck and what he thought he needed to get it to work. It was an interesting idea, but not one that I thought would make a great tournament deck. Still, it sounded fun, and he wanted to try it. We’d already dug out his cards, put it together, and decided what he really needed to make it work.

As we walked back to the store, I made my move. "Remember a few weeks back when you wouldn’t settle down, and I finally had to make you go stand in the hall for a little bit?"

He blushed, but nodded. "I said I was sorry."

"I know you did, and I know sometimes kids just act that way. You know what I really wanted to do, though?"

"Hm? What’s that?"

"I really wanted to take you to my office and give you a spanking."

"But that was weeks ago," he protested.

"I know. And I didn’t say I was going to, or even that I really thought about it. I just thought you needed one, and I also thought it’d make me feel better to give you one."

I think he understood what I meant, because he looked away (and was that a hint of a blush).

"Anyway, the reason I mentioned it was, I didn’t spank you then, when you deserved it, but maybe I could spank you know, and give you those cards you wanted."

I wasn’t looking directly at him, but from the corner of my eye, I could see him turn, wide-eyed, to face me. He was biting his lower lip, but then he stumbled. After catching himself, he was looking forward again. After a couple of minutes’ silence, he finally replied. "With a belt or a paddle?"

"You’re not in trouble, Zack. I thought my hand would do." I paused a second, then added, "It won’t be a real spanking, but it’ll probably sting pretty good," remembering that it hadn’t been too long since hand spankings were the normal way he got it.

"Do we have to do it right now?"

"We don’t HAVE to do it at all, kiddo. It was just an idea—your decision."

He said he’d think about it. We finished our ice cream on the way back to the store, then played a couple of more games before he had to go home.

He was back the next day though and had decided he was up for it. I, on the other hand, was no longer sure I was ready. With the exception of Brandon Lannigan, which had been a totally different situation, I’d never had a boy go home, think about it, and come back. Some boys had accepted the offer right away, and some had turned me down, causing me to make a joke out of it, but this?

"I was kinda just joking around with you, Zack. You’d really take a spanking for those cards?"

"Yeah," he assured me, and didn’t seem to have any hesitation.

I hesitated a minute. On the one hand, he was a real cutie and I did want a chance to spank that little bottom bare, even if it was just playfully. On the other hand, I didn’t like the time he took. While there was nothing illegal about spanking someone else’s kid (as far as I could find), I knew that, at the very least, if a parent learned about it and got mad, it wouldn’t be good for business (or my reputation). Still, my little brothers had provided lots of training for my boy-instincts, so I decided to go ahead.

Zack seemed to have read my hesitation differently. "You said it’s not going to be a real spanking?"

"Nope," I said, trying to reassure him, now that I’d decided to go ahead. "It won’t even be as hard as what Ben gets. I promise to stop before your rear gets really red."

He looked relieved for a second, then confused. "How’ll you know?"

"Well, if I can smack it, I’m sure I’ll be able to see it."

Apparently we had a little disagreement in our expectations, because his eyes went wide. "You’re gonna pull down my shorts?"

"You know that’s how your dad and I both spank. Did you think I wouldn’t?" I paused for a minute, then asked the obvious question. "Do you want to change your mind?"

He looked at me for a minute, not quite glaring, but apparently decided it was still a good deal. "No, I still wanna."

Because of the construction that was going on, I wasn’t able to take Zack to my office, like I would have normally. Instead, we went down the other hall to a storage/mop closet, which I unlocked. It had originally been a bathroom and still had a sink and stool, but had rarely been used since we‘d moved here. It was still a bathroom, though, and had plenty of room, just not as much as I wanted.

While I can’t speak for Zack, I didn’t feel cramped. On the other hand, with the stool being in the corner, and the rack for cleaning supplies just across from it, there was no way I was going to be able to take him over my lap. Instead, I sat down and gestured him in front of me. He stepped across without complaint or hesitation, until I reached for his jeans.

"I can take my own pants off!" he protested, his tone adding a silent ‘thank you very much.’

"Does your dad let you take your own pants down when he’s going to spank you?"

He nodded, then added. "He didn’t used to. He still has to take Ben’s down for him sometimes, but he lets me do my own. Don’t you?"

"Depends on who it is. I’d probably pull yours down for you, but I’ll let you do it. This time!."

He nodded in what might have been thanks, then reached down and undid the button, taking down the zipper, then spreading his jeans, which revealed the real reason he’d wanted to delay taking the spanking.

Zack might have been growing slowly, but he was a growing boy. While boys wore baggy pants and long shirts by that time, his shirts didn’t always hang as long as he might want, and he was often bending over, to leave card boxes on the floor or get them again. I knew he wore briefs, but it was a pair of plaid, flannel boxers that were exposed when he spread that fly.

"When did you start wearing boxers, Zack?" I asked, trying not to let my disgust show, and honestly a little impressed by his forethought.

He did have the decency to blush before answering, "I sleep in them sometimes."

"And thought it’d be less embarrassing—and maybe less painful—to get spanked on ‘em?"

His blush didn’t lighten as he shrugged.

"Are you sure you still wanna do it on the bare?"

He shrugged again, then added, "Yeah, you said it won’t be real hard, and I really want those cards."

"Okay, then get ‘em down."

"You’re gonna spank me right here?" he inquired instead.

"Yup."

He nodded, slid his fingers into the waistband of the boxers, then turned around before shoving them down to his knees to join his jeans. I was a little irritated since I had wanted a look at the front, but only a little. Instead of complaining, I turned him just a bit to admire that sweet little bottom.

As I’ve said, Zack has never been especially big for his age, and he still hadn’t hit that adolescent growth spurt. His bottom was not only full and nicely curved to the back, but had some spread to the sides as well, even though he didn’t have much in the way of hips and did have nice dimples. For my tastes, his little rear was almost perfect.

I put my left hand on his left hip, then lined up with my right and began to smack. He’d bent forward just a bit and stayed that way as I started to smack. These smacks were real stingers, but nothing more. I wanted to take my time with it, so I was cracking them in with almost all wrist, making sure none of them were really going to burn. With that angle, I was able to turn my hand enough to get swats in from either side. It was fun being able to work on his little rear from all angles like that.

Zack took it pretty well, though you could tell the warmth and sting was beginning to build up since he started to jump just a little with each swat. After a bit, he couldn’t keep bent over anymore and started to tense his bottom slightly. I made up for that by turning him a bit, so I could give more traditional spanks. He never did yelp or anything, though he did gasp occasionally or draw a deep, hissing breath between pursed lips. The funniest thing was his comments as we went.

"Ow, that was a good one." "Hit someplace else," in response to my landing several on the same spot. "Ouch. Why do the fingers sting worse?" It was almost like I was having color commentary on my efforts, and it definitely made it different from any other spanking I can ever remember giving. I almost laughed a couple of times, before it finally seemed to start really getting through to him, though.

"Okay, that’s enough now."

I paused for a second and leaned forward, running my hands over his cheeks, and pretending to examine them before commenting, "No, I think you can take a bunch more."

"C’mon, Jack," he replied, not quite whining, but definitely exasperated. "You said it wasn’t going to be a real spanking."

"C’mon yourself, Zack. Is this really anything close to what even Ben would get?"

His silence was all the answer I needed.

"You’re eleven?"

"Yeah," he replied, clearly puzzled by the non sequitur.

"Okay, how about twelve more swats?"

"No way." I was about to respond when he added, "Just two?"

I let him bargain me down to six but then made him more nervous by standing. I wrapped my left arm under his right and around his chest, and made him bend forward again. He leaned down enough to put his hands on his knees, then I lined up, cupping practically his entire left cheek in my hand, then I raised my arm shoulder high. He must have felt something in my stance, because he twisted around to look, and his eyes went wide when he saw how far I’d drawn back.

"Not too hard! Not too…"

My hand shot down, but I stopped it short, and just swung in with my elbow. It was still a good smack, but not as hard as he’d expected. And his yelp died halfway out. The other five swats weren’t as dramatic, but they were a little harder than the rest of the spanking had been, and he was a bit more verbal this time, dancing forward as each smack landed.

After the sixth, I gave each cheek a quick rub, then said, "I promised I wouldn’t get you really red, so I guess I’d better take a look."

So saying, I grabbed him under the arms and lifted him to stand on the toilet seat where recently I’d been sitting, which put his bottom at a perfect height to admire. It was someplace between a dark rose and bright red, and I felt I’d kept my word admirably.

"What’d you think?" I asked, as I ran my hand across his red rear. "Too hard?"

"Nah, not too hard. Not as hard as Ben gets it, and that’s what you said."

"You wanna take a look?" I asked, my thoughts going back to wanting to see the rest of him while he was still undressed.

"How can I look at my own butt?" he replied sarcastically.

"Turn around, and I’ll show you," I answered.

Without hesitation or, apparently further thought of modesty, he turned around to face me, giving me a pretty good view of his front, even though his t-shirt was falling into place. I grabbed the hem of it, lifted it to his underarms, fully exposing him, then grabbed him under the arms, lifted him from the seat, and swung him around towards the sink. I took a look over his shoulder, then turned him just a bit.

"Look back and see what you can see," I instructed him, and he turned.

We had to move around just a little, but I was able to turn him where he could get a good view of the entire thing, one cheek at a time. While he was checking out his rear end, I took a good look at his front end.

Zack was still pretty close to being a little boy. His little sack had loosened enough so he had a bit of a dangle, but it still only held marbles. He wasn’t near hard, but he was tiny. Even though he was nearly two-and-one-half years older than Tommy, I think Tommy was hung better (of course, maybe Zack was a grower, not a shower). However big he was (or wasn’t) he was still cute as heck, and I would have been glad to let him look as long as he wanted (especially since I not only had a great front view, but could also peak over his shoulder and watch him checking out his little red rear), except my arms started to give out.

"I’m gonna have to hug you for a second before I drop you, Zack," I warned him, starting to pull him closer to me.

He didn’t protest, but did disappoint me a bit. As I laid him against my chest and wrapped my arms around him, allowing me to change my grip, he replied, "That’s okay. You can put me down. I got to see it." Even as he said that, he was instinctively wrapping his arms around my neck, so I held him just a second, reaching back to give his well-warmed bottom a pat, before setting him on his feet.

He didn’t waste any time but didn’t rush either, moving nonchalantly as he reached down to pull up his boxers, then his jeans. I did notice a little ‘humph,’ type grunt from him.

"What?" I asked.

"Huh?" he asked, a bit startled, showing he’d obviously been lost in thought. "Oh, nothing really. That kinda stung, but it wasn’t nowhere near as bad as one of Dad’s. I was just thinking about how red my rear was and how red Ben’s usually is. Now I’m gonna have to try to figure out a way to see mine after a spanking, just to compare."

He didn’t see me smile at him but must have heard it in my voice since he looked up at me as I suggested, "Try standing on the side of the bathtub."



"Okay, Jack," Chris said, pulling me out of my reverie. "We’re ready. Come play a couple of games with us."

"Yeah," Zack added, "but none of those killer decks. We’re just playing for fun."

"If you insist," I told them, dropping my magazine and digging through my cards for a fun, group player deck.



I’ve had boys take spankings from me before, even by their own choice (bet or trade), but still get mad about it and quit coming into the store. That always hurts me, and the longer I did it, the more I worried about doing it for that reason. With Zack, it turned out I was worrying about the wrong thing. The spanking and nudity didn’t seem to phase him at all.

Our problem came that weekend at the juniors’ Magic tournament. Zack was really on fire that day and was playing for first place by the end of the tournament. Then a rules question came up, and I had to call against him, which made him lose the game, the match, and come in second place. I could tell he was upset, even though he’d done really well. The end of those tournaments is always pretty busy, though, so I didn’t realize how upset until his dad showed up the next weekend with Ben, but no Zack.

"Jack?" Mr. Thomas asked me, "Have you and Zack had some problem?"

"Not that I know of," I answered cautiously. "Why?"

"It’s a bit of a shock that he didn’t want to come to the tournament today, but he said the reason was because of you. What’s going on?"

"I don’t know," I said, not sure what to say, and not understanding why he’d be getting upset now, but worried that the spanking had started to bother him. "Is that all he said?"

"No, but I didn’t understand the rest. What’s an Elemental Blast?"

Understanding dawned on me like a light bulb in a Looney Tune. I explained the rules call I’d had to make the week before and what it had cost Zack.

"That’s not your fault," Mr. Thomas assured me. "I’ll talk to him. I know he was disappointed, but this is ridiculous."

With that, he checked in with Ben and left.

I’d hoped that Zack might show for the Magic tournament the next day since he’d missed Pokemon, but shrugged it off when he didn’t. After all, no matter what his dad had told him, it’s one thing to know something, and a totally different thing to actually feel it. With that in mind, you can imagine my surprise when a small hand landed on my shoulder halfway through the tournament.

"Hi, Jack," Zack said sheepishly when I turned around.

"Hello," I said, trying to be calm and matter-of-fact.

"Are you mad at me?"

"I thought you were mad at me, Zack."

He shrugged. "I was, I guess. Dad said it was wrong because you did the right thing, and just ‘cause we’re friends doesn’t change the rules."

"You okay with that?" I inquired.

He nodded.

"We still friends?"

This time he smiled as he nodded.

There was a pause, and then he asked nervously, "You gonna spank me?"

"I don’t think you did anything wrong, Zack. I would appreciate if you’d just talk to me if you ever get mad at me again, okay?"

He nodded and started to turn away, then stopped and gave me an awkward, one-armed hug. "Thanks."

I reached around to pat him on the back. "Thank you, Zack."



After a couple of three player games, I was beat and ready for bed and let them know it. Especially since they’d teamed up to whip me up pretty badly in the second game.

"Okay you two, bedtime."

"Ah, c’mon Jack," they managed to rush out, stumbling over each other’s words as they begged me for just a little more time.



"Upstairs, brush your teeth, then in bed. Five minutes. If you’re not there, I might decide to spank the both of you." Chris, who was not only still rather shy around other people, not to mention probably worried about a second spanking in one day, took off like a shot. Zack, who never had the best instincts for self-preservation, delayed, following just long enough to stick his tongue out at me.



That first spanking I’d given Zack wasn’t the last one. When we were coming up for the big ‘end of school, overnight tournament’, he’d wanted to spice up both his decks, so he’d have a chance at the grand prize.

"Hey, Jack. Can you look at these cards? I need some store credit."

I looked through the stack he handed me, then gave him the total. "There’s only a couple we really need, but I can give you twenty."

"Oh, I really need $42. I have a couple of dollars. Could you give me a spanking and forty?"

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah."

"You already got your boxers on?"

He snorted. "What’s it matter? You’re gonna make me pull ‘em down anyway."

"Not this time," I assured him.

"You’re not?" he asked in shock.

"Nope. You did it last time. I’m gonna do it this time."

He didn’t consider that much of an improvement and negotiated for me to throw in a pack of deck protectors before he’d consent.

Since the construction was long over, we were having the discussion in my new, expanded (and nearly soundproof) office. I pointed towards the door. "Go lock it."

He went straight over, but by the time he turned around, I’d taken position in the spanking chair. He came over to me and lifted his shirt when I instructed him to, then watched as I undid his jeans and lowered them past his knees, then did the same with his briefs (and he was incredibly cute in his briefs). As soon as he was bare, he started to turn around, but I stopped him with my hands on his hips, and guided him across my lap instead. He didn’t resist, but did say, "Oh, no," in a somewhat confused half moan, half laugh.

I think that spanking might have been harder than the first, but he took it just as well, even though he couldn’t jerk forward to ride the smacks. In that position, he was able to jerk and kick his legs, and he did a bit. We both knew it was playful, and he was mostly taking it that way—even his protests were playful and half amused, though you could tell he was feeling the sting. When I let him up, he jumped around and rubbed theatrically for a minute (I‘ve known Zack over a decade now, and he‘s always been a real showman). I enjoyed the view but found myself a bit disappointed. I’d loved having him over my lap but found I missed the other position and being able to cup those pliant little cheeks in one hand.

When he’d settled down a bit, he glanced around the office and his face scrunched up as he quietly commented, ‘Darn."

"What’s the problem?"

"No mirrors?"

I let him see me smile as I gestured over my shoulder, then stood. I placed my hand on the back of his neck and urged him forward, making him shuffle quickly with the jeans around his ankles.

"Bathroom," I explained.

I even had a little hand mirror in there for putting in contacts, so he was able to get a great view while standing on a stool, letting me see the whole thing from different angles. It was definitely a scene worth a smile.



Six minutes later, I walked into the room the two of them were sharing. It was a good thing I’d given them an extra minute, because they were just pulling the sheet over them. I leaned down to give Chris a kiss, then started to pull back, but he reached up and pulled me down to him in a hug, so I gave him his standard peck on the cheek, which he returned, before I tucked the covers in around him. I told the two of them good night, and reached towards the lights as I started to walk out of the room, only to be stopped by an indignant ‘Hey!’

Turning around, Zack was pushed up on his elbow, glaring at me. I smiled and walked back.

"Sorry," I told him. "Don’t know what came over me."

He smiled as I bent into his hug, and, after a quick peck on each other’s cheeks, contentedly closed his eyes as I tucked the covers around his neck.







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