Date: Sun, 5 Jul 2020 15:45:29 +0000 (UTC) From: - - Subject: What's a Spanking? "Oh great, I think I'm gonna get a spanking..." That's what Greg said when he realized that his Dad was standing in the driveway and looking at the tiny dent in the car that Greg thought wasn't noticeable. The foreign-exchange student that was living with Greg's family and sitting on a bed opposite Greg asked, "What's a spanking?" "You know, a whoopin', a lickin', tanning yer hide?" Slang sayings like these had proved to be the biggest barrier in language, but the cultural differences were even more mystifying. This certainly wasn't a topic taught in English class back home. When his irate father entered, Greg said, "well, anyway, I'm thinking you'll get to see for yourself pretty soon." Joe watched intently and curiously. He wanted his host family to call him Joe as a nickname. He had learned that nicknames were common among friends and family and even teachers sometimes. Greg's dad yelled about the car but tried not to get too upset. He said, "You're gonna get it!" and pointed in Greg's face before realizing the show he was putting on. He calmed down and apologized for getting so worked up, and then he made Greg apologize to him for the car and then to Joe for causing the situation in front of him, but then Joe said "I am a guest in your home. Please act as you normally would." Mr. L thought Joe was very polite and respectful and considerate. It really kept the house calm and relaxed. Everyone wanted to act more like their guest and make him comfortable. Greg smiled when his dad told him that he'd be working overtime to pay for repairs and other than that would be home studying and helping around the house. "Wow, you really helped me dodge a bullet there, buddy," Greg said, giving a relieved and appreciative pat on the back. Joe didn't quite understand what had happened, but the next day he tried to find out. It was only Joe and his host father in the house. Joe knocked on the door to Mr. L's office. "Excuse me. May I ask you something?" "Sure buddy, any time." Mr. L stepped aside and let Joe in and closed the door again, and they sat in two matching leather armchairs that made the room feel like a den or a study, or like a private club. Joe liked having an extra nickname from his host father. He felt closest to him, even though Greg was closer to Joe's age. Joe remembered the first time that he heard "buddy" when Mr. L spent a whole day with him, taking him to visit where he works and then out to lunch and then to a baseball game for the afternoon. Joe liked baseball and liked being called buddy and liked his host father's big arm around his shoulder while they watched baseball. "Okay, what's your question?" "What's a spanking?" Mr. L was surprised. Then he realized that Greg must've mentioned it about the car. Joe listened to an explanation, heard how it had been quite a while since Mr. L had to give a spanking and not something he did all the time, how it's something to threaten doing. He said it was kind of uncommon and old-fashioned, and especially uncommon if you were as old as Gre. Joe asked if his host father had been giving spankings by his father when he was younger. "Oh yes indeed!" He stood up and got a picture of his father from a bookshelf. His father was wearing a military uniform, and Joe thought he looked even taller and tougher than Mr. L does. Joe watched as his host father remembered the sensation and let his hand go back as it did when he'd rub it for relief. "And you slap on the butt?" Joe asked, and then he watched a mimed demonstration, over the lap, hand raised, swat, swat. It was something that Joe was not familiar with. He vaguely remembered watching a TV show that mentioned it but didn't show it, and then a young man who was in trouble rubbed his sore butt after. Joe had tried to watch some TV and movies before visiting. But Joe didn't quite understand. He was fascinated whenever something new and different came up, some word to learn or an expression that wouldn't be in a book. This was just another new thing to learn about to him, but his host father was a little awkward. He wanted to be a good host, but this wasn't in the brochure. "Would you show it on me, please?" Now it felt extra awkward. He never had anyone ask for a spanking before. It just felt a little... awkward. He said, "Well, Joe... I don't know that that would really be appropriate." "Many things would maybe seem inappropriate if you were visiting in my home," Joe said. He mentioned a few cultural differences that he knew from researching customs and habits. He asked again if they could do a spanking so he'd know, if he would keep it between them. Mr. L just wanted to kind of get it over with and move on. He knew nobody else was home and it wouldn't take long. He said okay and had Joe stand up while he sat at the edge of his seat so his lap was there. He remembered the last spanking he gave, in that same spot. He explained that if Joe was bad that he'd get a spanking and go over his lap. He felt Joe's body as he lifted him into place, felt his bicep flex at the weight and felt Joe's chest under his left bicep and forearm to hold him up. Then he pulled his punches as he swatted down, big wind-up but barely any contact. Even that felt a little embarrassing, touching Joe's butt like that. Joe asked if you only pretend, and Mr. L said no and then gave Joe two or three real ones "like this" and patted the fabric, muffled bap bap. He waited for Joe to lean back and stand up again. He was used to that, as soon as possible, but Joe just stayed there horizontal, propped over his legs like a board. Mr. L looked down at the butt he had just spanked, firm and round and outlined under soft, thin, loose, gray sweatpants. And he held Joe's strong young shoulders and back in place, cradled him. "Oh, I thought it would hurt, but I can barely feel it through my clothes." He propped Joe up, standing in front of him. Joe was surprised that that was all there was to it. "No, buddy, it does hurt, hurts a lot, that's kind of the idea. That way you really learn your lesson, at least that's the idea." Then he explained that it's usually on bare skin, that he usually gives a spanking butt out. "Oh, I see," Joe said, and he popped his butt out, just slid those sweatpants and underwear down a few inches, just in the back, well maybe a little bit lower in the front too, just until they hooked under like straps on a jock. Mr. L felt Joe fall back across his lap but bare-assed now, ready for a tanned hide, and stopped him, stood him back up and surprised himself by touching Joe's smooth skin as he slid everything back into place. And then he surprised himself again by patting that butt now that it was all wrapped up again. "Buddy, maybe we shouldn't. You get the idea of how it works." But Joe persisted, politely of course, while they discussed, "No, I'm not embarrassed. Didn't we see all the baseball players touching on the butt? I can see that you want me to tell nobody, and I will not." Mr. L. said it was a little different, but didn't stop Joe as he started to crawl back over his lap, rest the weight of his firm body down, and then wait. "Should I pull these down or do you do it?" Without saying anything, the man slowly proceeded as he normally would. He propped under, spread his knees a little wider, planted his heels, and took both hands to the waistband, putting thumbs under elastic and then sliding down, looking down closely, and scraping his thumbnails against the smooth skin as it got revealed. He realized that he was doing it slowly and attentively, more into each moment and aspect than usually. He wasn't mad or upset or trying to teach any lesson. There was nothing to reiterate about what was unacceptable and what wouldn't happen again. Just the motions. Smack! One hard quick flat sting, and then his hand pressed flat against the burning skin, something his dad sometimes did after a sharp one that made it harsh but then less of a snakebite as they connected. "That's what it's like, Joe." "Oh, it's just one?" Mr. L explained that it was not. Then, as Joe requested, they proceeded with more. Crack! Whap! and then a soft rub in a circle. Joe felt how each spank stung with pain but then how the hand felt gentle and caring and sensual, and Joe pressed into the strong arm under him, gripping arms around it and pulling his neck and head closer. Joe could feel something. He felt each jolt go through his body and start to trigger a stiffening between his legs. His body was getting warm, "You're making me hot." "Maybe that's enough, buddy. Are you sure you want me to keep going?" Joe asked him to give him a full real spanking, even as he felt himself get harder and harder, squeezed under his body and pressing into the thick, manly, muscular leg under him. Instead of complaining, he was taking it. Joe felt under control. Mr. L started to feel it against his leg. He knew it sometimes happened. He even read about it in a book once. Then he started to remember a time when he was getting a spanking, definitely a little old for being over the lap, but some fathers will say that you're never too old for them to put you over their lap and show you what for. He had not thought back about when that happened for a long time, how he had gotten in trouble at the lake and taken into dad's bedroom and over his lap and the wet bathing suit clinging to him and twisting around his body as dad tugged it down and noticing that the door didn't close all the way and what if someone walked by or saw in or walked in and watched. And how it had happened. And how dad probably could feel it and then could see what happened. And how he looked. The walk down memory lane was having an effect. Mr. L was wondering if Joe could feel it poking up against him, and Joe was wondering if Mr. L could feel it pressed against him. One final slap! Then Joe felt the skin of the hand flat in the center of his ass, just placed there. Then quickly removed. Then being hoisted up, still ass-out, lifted lightly like a pillow. And standing, sweatpants draped against his rod, obvious. Mr. L stared down at it. Joe said, "Does this happen sometimes?" He wasn't embarrassed at all. He saw it as a normal thing that happens and something that men would know happens, something he wouldn't be embarrassed of his father seeing. Mr. L leaned forward and reached behind and slid everything back into place. It had seemed like a long time but was only a few minutes. They were still alone in the house. When he leaned back and felt his own ass against the seat, he saw Joe's eyes staring down. They were both obviously aroused and visibly tenting what they were wearing, Joe's gray sweatpants and Mr. L's fatherly khaki chinos, his button-down shirt still tucked in, and a brown leather belt with a shiny metal buckle. He stared at how Joe was staring. "It did hurt when you spanked the skin on my butt. Is this how you do it? Don't worry about hurting me, please. I'm sure I will be fine." "Yeah buddy... uh, you're okay?" "Yes. Thank you for helping me with this. Is there any more to it?" Mr. L thought about it and looked at them both there. He wanted to remember everything, and he thought he would definitely remember everything when he thought about it later. "Well, Joe... sometimes it's not just the hand. Sometimes, it's done with a belt. I might say, uh... 'Do you want me to take off my belt?' and, that's what that means." "If you take off your belt, won't your trousers fall down?" Joe asked, again glancing down. Then he took a step back. His host father stood up. He unbuckled his belt and slipped it slowly but firmly out of the loops. It flipped and snapped its way out. Then the khakis hung loose and low and fell to the ground around his ankles, crumpled beneath bare hairy legs and high socks. Light blue cotton boxer shorts with curved slits at the sides stopped half-way to the knee, just where skin got paler, and something was pulling them taut as it pointed out. Mr. L thought it might've just been sticking out, totally visible. Maybe it poked out one of the legs or up and through the fly, but they were both covered. They were both hard. Joe looked at the stiff belt held around waist high, just next to the impressive display, outlined in thin blue cotton. His host father held the belt and let it flop between his hands and said, "I'm gonna give you a taste of this, son." Joe liked that. He was curious. "Yes, sir." Mr. L sat back down with his shoes still tied and his khakis still buttoned but down around his ankles. "Okay, take those down," he said, and then he watched Joe slide everything down to floor. Mr. L watched the stiff dick flip up as Joe stood. Joe smiled. "Joe, I just meant... that's okay. Lock that door next to you, just in case." Joe stepped over, walking out of the loose clothes around his feet. He wagged left and right as he walked back. "May I take off my shirt as well, sir? I'm hot." The man nodded and watched. Joe was hot, a little sweaty and also firm and fit and muscular. With a flinch, his balls rose up while his dick bobbed and his stomach clenched. Mr. L had never given a spanking like this, naked, but he remembered being naked once or twice while receiving one. He hadn't thought about his experiences getting spanked for decades. Sure, every once in a while a stray thought might come up at certain moments. "I guess it's not always like this, so thank you. I like that you are showing me." But he could see how much Joe liked this. Joe let him stare at his naked body and hard cock. He knew he looked good and liked his host father to look if he wanted to look. Mr. L patted the skin on his thigh, inviting Joe to take the position. Joe lowered his bare body down and thought how it felt like a hug. He felt his dick squeezed between them, and then he felt a hand reach in and touch it and slide everything into place. Joe's cock pointed into the man's groin. Joe's ass was in front of Mr. L like a meal on a plate, and now he could see between Joe's legs, more of the crack and the line of skin and the back off his balls hanging. "Does this hurt still?" His fingertips and thumb glided against the reddened skin as his wrist and forearm rested on the back of Joe's leg. Joe said that he felt it. Then Joe felt the cool leather. It slid across his firm skin like an exploring snake, under each cheek, up along the center. Joe was such a good boy, but he liked what a bad boy gets. "Just a bit of this..." SNAP! It made Joe jolt in surprise and pain, squirm and wriggle and poke his prick while he did it. There was no hand to soothe it, just the sting and then air on it. He had never felt anything like it. "I can see how this would be a memorable punishment." Somehow, Mr. L thought that if Joe was getting it like this that it might take a few lessons. Joe squeezed his arms around the man's forearm, and he felt fingers at his chest. Smack! Crack! "Ooooh! Owwww.... mmmmhaha oww!" Mr. L looked down at the result. He could sense the skin heating up and watch the skin react. And Joe's cheeks flexed together impulsively. Mr. L timed a flinch and pulsed his hard cock up at that moment, and their dicks slid against each other. "You feel that?" "Yessir" and the belt dropped with a clang. Joe felt a hand slide up the back of his leg very sensually and slow. It arrived at the top of the legs. Mr. L thought about everything that could happen and how this was already probably too much. He decided what he wasn't going to do. Definitely not now. Definitely not later either, not even if Joe asked for it. Definitely. But this was a spanking. He was giving a spanking. This was all just part of the spanking. Joe felt a comforting pat in a very soft, casual, basebally way. "You okay? You took it like a man, son." Joe wondered how men take a spanking. He thanked him and let him touch his sore skin to soothe him. His body relaxed and melted into the man but still felt electric. "That feels nice now after how it hurt before. Thank you." "You like this? You want me to keep doing this?" And Joe felt his body rise up as his host father's legs lifted. They slid against each other. One thumb slid sideways over and over again. Then it skated lower and in between Joe's thighs, and Joe spread his legs, which made the mountains rise as they pushed against each other. Tiny tickles from fingertips under Joe's chest and collar. His body felt more alive and aware than ever before. "Do you want this, son?" "Mmmm... uh huhmmm... Yes sir, please. Please, sir, when it's just you and me... can I call you Dad?" "Sure buddy..." fingers trailing the back of sensitive balls. "Thank you, Dad. You can do more please, Dad." A thumb slid along the center line and all over Joe's beautiful butt. A hand reached under Joe's stomach and gripped his cock, held it. Then Mr. L fumbled with himself. For a second or two he thought about sliding his boxer shorts down and then unbuttoning his shirt so they would both be totally naked and grinding against each other sweating. But he reined himself in, and instead just popped his boner out through the fly. His mind wandered to how that might happen normally. One time he did give a spanking dressed like that, while they were in the middle of getting ready for a wedding, in a hotel room. Greg was making them late and deserved an attitude adjustment before the day got underway, and then he had to sit on his mistake on a hard wooden pew. Usually, Mr. L's mind didn't wander like this, but here with Joe and without anything to be mad about, he was daydreaming and fantasizing, lost in thoughts while Joe just stayed in place and enjoying every strange sensation. He pet Joe. He stroked the skin. One finger reached out and rolled Joe's right ball around in the skin, showing its shape as Mr. L leaned in. Joe felt the man's breath on his skin. "Dad?" "Yeah Joe?" But Joe didn't answer. "What is it buddy?" "It feels very good now. And I can feel that you like it. Does it feel wet on you?" Joe felt his host father slide a hand between their bodies, feeling where a small wet spot was and then feeling where it came from. Then he had to grip his own hard cock tight for a second, and Joe felt the tip of it paint his skin. They both felt sweat pool under their arms and on their foreheads and down their backs. They each felt the other's bristly hairs and snaking dicks, squeezed and twisted as they slid together. His arm pulled out and rested on the back of Joe's thigh, and he started gently patting Joe's extra sensitive ass. "It's okay, son... Dad understands how that could happen. Don't worry. Just relax. Can you feel that it's the same for me? You feel it?" And Joe nodded, still looking at the wall the whole time. "I can feel yours... Dad. It feels big." He pumped into it gently and slowly, enjoying the pats on his butt and remembering how he saw that at the baseball game. He felt on occasional slide down his skin, one fingernail. Mr. L pumped up as Joe pumped down, flexing and lifting himself up off the sturdy armchair and holding Joe's body against him. "That's okay, son... just let it go. It's okay. I want you to, and we'll do it together... mmmyeahh" "Dad. Mmmhhhm. Oh." SMAK! And then rubbing it. Harder and firmer and wiggling around and flexing their hips in like a hinge, Joe wrapped his body around and sideways, pulsing in faster now. Mr. L loved having his hard dick poking out of his boxers. Sometimes he'd have it out secretly under a suit or athletic shorts on a drive or in the barber's chair. The next time he did that, he'd remember how it felt with Joe on him. Then he felt Joe cum. It squirted between them as Joe whimpered. "Attaboy... yeah... feels good right? Yeah.... you got me ready now too son..." and Joe felt jets spray up against him. He felt legs squeeze tight beneath him. Mr. L felt his balls compress and push against each other. He squeezed Joe. They both fucked like mad, bucking against each other like a bull and rider clinging on. Joe felt the stiff fabric and hard buttons press into his back as their bodies became a ball, and every millimeter of movement between them made them slide and slip and feel waves of sensations. They stayed there in a strange hold for almost a minute. "Okay buddy, that's... that's not your average spanking but..." "Fuck... oh. mmm.... that was, thank you Dad..." Joe got propped up onto his wobbly feet and looked down at the mess between them. He looked sheepish. "It's okay. Why don't we go get cleaned up?" They stood and hugged and looked out the window at the driveway to make sure nobody else was in the house. And they washed up, and they looked at each other's naked bodies as they washed, and then they dried and got dressed, and Mr. L put a load of clothes in the washer. And then whenever it was just the two of them together in the house or at a store or enjoying a baseball game, Joe loved to call him Dad.