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The following story is fiction.  It contain scenes of spankings.  If such a subject is offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.

This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission.  Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.

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Getting Uncle Ty


I was sure looking forward to my annual month summer stay with my grandparents.  I always had fun staying with them especially as my cousin Ted, who was my age, would also be there.  Naturally, my uncle Tyson would be there also.  I think that gramps must have forgotten his rubbers once too often because Ty was some two decades younger than dad and only four years older than Ted and me.  He was going to start college next fall.  We were more like cousins – the same generation – than uncle and nephews.  We never called him Uncle Tyson except when we were kidding.

There was one downside to staying at the grands' house.  They had strict rules and a woodshed.  Hanging in shed was a thick, wide, heavy, leather strap.  Just like dad and Ty had grown up enough to have 'discussions' (as they were coyly called) with it now that Ted and I were teenagers so were we.  Both dad and Ty had told us that we would not like such discussions when they related tales of their own youthful misbehavers.  Simple spankings from grandpa were now things of the past.

Now don't think that I that never had my tail looking like a male northern cardinal showing off in the bright sun for I had (more times than I would like to remember).  Whenever I got into trouble for the last few years, dad and I would have that little talk.  You know the one – "I'm so disappointed in you, son."  "This is for your own good."  "This hurts me more than it hurts you." – followed by a spanking.  Dad always made those memorable although the talks were not.  Need I report that both Ted and I had also gotten spanked by grandpa in previous years just as Ty and even dad had been when he was a kid.

When I was under twelve, it would be a simple hand spanking.  In the privacy of my room (away from everyone else) dad would sit on the desk chair.  The same chair I should have sat on a lot more doing my homework.  He would open my jeans and along with my briefs (either tightie-whites or superhero's when I was very young) push them down to my ankles.  Then he would take me over his lap and hold me in place for his huge hand to tan my naughty boy bottom to a bright red.  When I was very little it only took a few spanks to get me bawling but by the time I was twelve I could take it pretty well.  Oh, it sure hurt when he tanned me but I had to be macho and not cry.  OK, I tried my best not to cry and at least I did not bawl any more.

One day, when I judged the time ripe (and dad in a good mood), I told him that I was too old to be spanked like a little boy.  I was pleasantly surprised when dad replied.  "Son, when you're right, you're right."  I should have known that there was a catch but when you're almost a teen; almost a young man you don't see the obvious.© YLeeCoyote

It was less than two weeks later I learnt what the catch was.  I brought home two things from school on the same day.  Neither pleased my parents in the least.  One was a failed test (fortunately not a final).  The other was a note from the principal that reported how I had mouthed off to one of my teachers.  (Well, she deserved it, the bitch.)  Dad sent me to my room to await my doom.

"What would have happened last year for this, Danny?" he asked when came in.

"You would have talked to me and then spanked me, father." I answered at least smart enough to be contrite.  Then I continued: "But you agreed that you would not do that anymore."

"Can you honestly tell me that you studied and did your homework like you should have?  Or did not know that mouthing off to your teacher was wrong?"  I shook my head.  He was right of course.  "Then you should be punished?"

I did not like where this was going but what could I say but "Yes, Sir."

Dad opened his own belt – a two inch wide black leather Garrison belt – and started to pull it from his pants.  "Drop your pants and bend over the bed, Danny."  I must have looked shocked for dad added "You're too big to be spanked so it's time to be strapped."  So that was the catch!  What could I do, now.  I set up the trap and waltzed right into it.  I certainly was not going to ask to be spanked like a little boy.

"Yes, father." I said  I lowered my jeans and bent over the bed presenting my butt to my father and his belt.

"The boxers too, son."  I complied.  Then it started.  The first cut.  It hurt like hell; far more than dad's hand ever did.  I yelled.  I jumped.

"Back into position, young man." snapped dad.  Well at least he did not say boy.  I managed the next two better but I yelled like a banshee (whatever the hell that is) for the last three.  Dad mercifully left me alone to recover.

I exaggerated my machoness the next day in school when the guys saw me in gym.  They approved  of how I did not cry or do any sort of baby stuff and that I was no long being spanking like a baby.  I did not quite tell the entire truth but I'm sure that they don't either.  The stripes were certainly real.

This incident got me to think about things that I should not have though about.  Over the years, all three of us had gotten spanked by grandpa.  Of course, Ty always got it in more grown up way because he was four years older.  But what I realized was that Ty had not gotten strapped in the last couple of years when Ted and I were visiting even though Ted and I had.  I decided that this was unfair.  (Somehow the little detail that Ty had not earned a strapping did not come into my mind.)  Over the months, I developed a plan and refined it.  I decided that ratting out Ty to his dad was traitorous for us kids had to stick together against the common enemy (the adults).  I decided that Ted and I should do it after catching Ty doing something wrong.  I would have to bide my time. 

Ted and I had been there about five days when we fucked up.  We had gone into town to hang out but forgot to return for dinner.  We did not even call but ambled in about 10 pm.  The grands were furious and Ted and I got our first formal visit to the woodshed.  Grandfather lectured us as expected and then we both had to drop our jeans and boxers before bending over.  I can report that the thick, wide, heavy, vicious leather strap was exactly that.  Gramps gave us each four hard cuts.  I then learnt that dad's belt was for little kids.  Neither of us had any doubt that were being punished.  Being out in the woodshed meant that our yells of pain and for mercy were not heard back at the house (i.e., by grandma and Ty).  Our butts were on fire and we were crying.  "Stay here until you compose yourselves and then go to bed – quietly – boys." instructed grandfather.

We were quite happy with the privacy that our exile provided.  It was bad enough that we had cried but better that no one else knew that as a fact.  Soon the house lights were put out except for the porch light.  A little latter we dragged our sorry red butts to bed.  We now fully understood the tails we had heard for years about that thick, wide, heavy, vicious leather strap of grandpa's.

Ty admired our marks but noted that we had gotten off lightly with just four.  He told us of the times he had gotten twice that number.  Once he got ten!  That was for drinking a beer which was against the law.  He explained that he really was going to wait until he was an adult to drink again.

One of the things that made him "Ty" rather than "Uncle Ty" was the way that my grands emphasized that all of us – Ty, Ted and I – had to follow the same rules.  One of the rules was that kids were not allowed to swim without an adult present.  An evil thought came to me one day.  The grands were away for the day and Ty suggested that we go swimming.  I had already conspired with Ted that we should not swim but let Ty do it by himself and then take him to the woodshed.  Ty could not understand why we sat by the side of the lake but he swam a lot.

When Ty got out I told him that he was in trouble and gave him a choice.  He could come to the woodshed with us or wait until grandpa came home.  He looked at us for sometime and Ted chickened out but I held my ground.  "Are you sure you want to do this, Danny?"

"Yes, Tyson; I'm very sure.  Either your dad or I will strap you."  I was elated.  I was going to tan an older guy's butt.  That would stop him from ribbing me about still being in junior high (albeit ninth grade which is high school in some places) while he was in college.  Ted held back as we started for the woodshed but Ty invited him to come.  He was not that chicken so he came along.

In the woodshed I took the thick, wide, heavy, vicious leather strap from its peg and snapped it against the bench.  It did not sound mean like the time before since I was the one wielding it.  "Into position, Ty." I ordered.

I was not prepared for what then happened.  Not in the least!  Ty suddenly changed.  I felt just like Frodo must have when Gandalf whelmed up in front of him in the LOTR.  Ty snatched the strap from my hand.  "Daniel you have gone to far.  You have no right to punish me even if swimming was against the rules – which it is not since I'm seventeen.  Now, young man, you drop your shorts and get into position pronto or I will tell dad."

He sounded real angry.  "I was only kidding, Ty.  Really." I lied hoping he would relent.  "I was not going to hit you – really."

"POSITION!" he barked.  He was angry and I certainly did not want grandpa to know.  I dropped my pants and boxers and bent over the bench.  Waiting in fear for the terrible strap.  I did not have to wait long.  The monster quickly crashed down on my waiting naked butt with a vengeance.  I already knew what it could do to me and had braced myself.  It was a useless try.  I howled as I had when granddad strapped me.  Only this time it was in front of my cousin and young uncle.  Of course, I deserved it but that did not make it hurt any less.  Probably just the reverse.

Then it struck once again.  Again I howled.  Ty was laying it on harder than grandpa had.  As I got into position, Ty spoke.  It sent a chill down my spine.  "Would you like to try Ted?"

The chill went up my spine when Ted replied: "Sure, Uncle Ty."  My cousin, my buddy in crime, my buddy was going to betray me.  Ty had him take a couple of practice cuts.  The crashes reverberated through me for I knew I would soon feel it again.  And I did.  It was not as hard as the two from Uncle Ty but quite sufficient to hurt.

"Give him another, Ted." said my uncle.

"Yes, sir." replied Ted and he let me have it.  I howled once again.

"Have we learnt not to be impertinent and presumptuous yet, Daniel?"

"Yes, Uncle Ty." I sobbed.

"How about a swim, guys?"  Ty asked.

The cool water eased the pain in my butt.

My parents and grandparents did not learn about this for a decade when even I could laugh about.  I learnt a good lesson that day.

The End

© Copyright A.I.L., March 21, 2005

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