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This is story is just fiction.  It contains scenes of public and private all male spanking.  If such a subject is offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.

This is set few months after the start of Part 2 which needs to be read first.  Of course, Part 1 is where to start.

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.

The author would appreciate your comments – pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions.  Please take a moment to email.

It's Tough to be an Official Spanker – Part 3/3


For spring break Uncle Doug and dad had taken Dave and me to the cabin for a week of fun.  Winter was almost over but it still was not spring.  The lake was still ice covered.  Midweek, dad went to town to get supplies while Uncle Doug stayed with us.  One of them always stays with us as they think we're just little kids who can not take care ourselves.  Well this day showed that it is they who need to be watched.

The three of us were running around have fun in the snow when Uncle Doug ran out on the ice and Davy followed him throwing snow balls and just sliding around.  This would have been fine in January or even March but the temperature had been rising since we had been here and we had not done our safety check that the ice was safe to play on.  Dave and I had really been believers in that since someone had fallen through the ice just two years ago.  The guy was in the hospital for a month.

I yelled at them to came back to land and fortunately they did.  By then I had spotted a stag across the lake drinking where he had broken through the ice and I pointed this out to them.  Immediate correction was called for and I lead Davy back to the cabin and Uncle Doug came along.  We traded our wet boots for snugglies and I called Davy to task.

In a few short minutes Davy admitted that he had gone out on the ice before we had made a safety check.  Then he noted that he was just following his father.  That is an interesting point but since he is responsible for his own actions it did not get him off the hook.  Then he admitted that he earned a spanking; I always require him to do that.  I was about to do it when I realized that would not really be fair and called Uncle Doug to task right beside his son.  I didn't then and still don't understand why he, a thirty-nine-year-old man, obeyed me, just an eleven-year-old boy, but he did.  I actually expected only to tell him that dad would tend to him.

My questions came and I discarded his answers until, less than two minutes later, he also confessed:  "I failed to follow the safety rules and endangered everyone.  I … should … be … sp…ank…ed."  I hoped that I would be up to the task.  I went for Davy first to build my confidence.  After stripping him completely and placing him across my lap, I asked him why he was getting spanked.© YLeeCoyote

"Because I ignored the safety rules."

I raised my hand and commenced spanking.  Some spanks and a bit of lecturing and Davy was quickly falling into soundly spanked boy state of crying and promising.  A few more pushed him over his limit and he broke with his father watching (and waiting).  Usually I don't have an audience but today was different.  I wondered if Uncle Doug approved of my technique spanking his son.

Then I shifted my attention to the other miscreant, the first one's father, my own uncle more than three times my age.  This was going to be a challenge.  Was he seeing me as an eleven-year-old boy or my dad (his own official spanker) or even his own father?  There was no way that I could know.  I continued on and stripped him with the usual lecturing due a naughty boy.  It seem to go well.  He admitted that he was being spanked for cause by saying: "Because I did not follow our safety rules.  I've earned a severe spanking." in answer to the usual questions.  Our ages did not appear to matter just that we were spanker and spankee; court and now condemned miscreant.

I started wishing that I had prepared something to use should my hand be insufficient.  There was nothing immediately at hand although I guess I could have sent Davy for something.  He was now watching me spank his father as I had just spanked him moments ago.  I started using hard blows.  His butt was bigger than Davy's and I therefore had more to do.  Surely he was also tougher.  Naturally, I lectured him as I spanked.


He was reacting like Davy had.  Like Davy always does.  Like he did when Dad spanked him last summer while I watched.  I was getting through.  I was reducing him to a crying little boy with lots of promises; with even more tears.  I made sure that I got that sensitive crease.  The one that Davy begs me not to hit between spankings.  The one that he reacts to the same way.  Like son, like father!


Then he was bawling.  He was broken.  He would remember this and hopeful remember the safety rules as well.  Remember them so as not the endanger us all again.  I had to be sure, so I gave him insurance spanks (like Davy had taught me).


Then I stopped.  I put each of them into a corner to meditate.  My hand hurt.  I was about to cool it off when I realized that my dad was there.  How much did he see?  What would he say about my spanking his buddy, the man I always called 'uncle'?  I greeted my father dutifully asking how his trip was.

"Junior, all was easy but it seems that you had a bit of trouble here.  I saw how you spanked Uncle Doug and you did an excellent job.  I'm real proud of you, son.  I heard what he did and you were absolutely right to spank his naughty bottom as you did."

That was wonderful.  Dad approved and was even proud me.  There were not any qualifiers in his praise; it was that very rare unconditional praise.  I felt ever so grown up.

Dad allowed the naughty boys to dress so that we could play the rest of the day rather than be cooped up in the chilly cabin.  Then after dinner, he called Uncle Doug to task for this morning misconduct.  He had another item to discuss with his buddy.  That was his failure to set a good example for the kids.  (I hate when he calls us that.)

Dad went to the bathroom and quickly returned to pronounce sentence.  "You have acted like a boy rather than a man, therefore you should not look like a man."  With this he took out his mustache clipper and turned it on.  I watched in fascination as dad began to remove Uncle Doug's pubic hair.  I glanced at Davy and he had a look of horror on his face.

"May I do some, father?" I asked anxious to learn a new skill.

"Certainly son.  You need to get some practice so you can learn how to do this."  Dad often taught me how to do things using this apprenticeship technique.  I really found it to be fun for I actually did things that needed to be done and therefore was really helping.  That it took dad a lot longer to get the job done I never noticed and dad never mentioned.  Davy caught on to the implications of my learning a new punishment technique and his face showed it.

Dad explained the things that I needed to do and what I had to be careful about.  I even got some hands on practice.  I was lucky for this rare opportunity.  With Uncle Doug just having a bit of stubble Dad said that if it is necessary to keep a boy smooth a long time, then one shaves him weekly.  It is a very effective way to keep a boy humble and constantly reminds him that he is just a boy and still needs to grow up.

I whispered a question to dad and he nodded.  I ran off to get the shaving stuff so that dad could teach me to do this also.  In my innocence I asked if this shaving was any different than how he shaved his face or the barber shaves a man's hair line?  Basically, no, he said and I started doing my first shave.  I washed and covered the area with the shaving cream.  I picked up the razor and slowly brought it down and make the first stroke.  A very smooth strip appeared.  This was fun and there was a stirring in my groin like I get when I am spanking.  I went over everything and dad showed me how I had missed places.  You have move things around and pull the skin smooth.  When you're doing this you have the right to handle his penis and balls.  It's sort of like going to the doctor where he is allowed, actually required, to touch you in ways that others are not.  It is necessary as part of this job.  After a bit, Uncle Doug was as smooth as I.  He sure looked different with his big penis hanging in his hairless crotch.  Since he had chest hair it actually looked silly.

After we got home Davy and I talked about shaving; actually my shaving him.  At that time I had not truly considered doing it.  I had not matured enough to really understand about having pubes although Davy had.  As bad as it was that he was still spanked far later than any of his peers and by me who was younger than him shaving would be pure hell.  The guys in the showers always make fun of the little kids who did not have pubes and to lose them would be awful.  He tried to get me to promise not to subject him to that torture.  I could tell that he was genuinely worried that I might do it and why but I could not give up my power so easily.  I thought about it and promised that I would never do it causally but only for some very extreme reason when he could actually agree that it was an appropriate punishment.  Davy was certain that he wouldn't ever agree that would be the case.

The world sometimes changes very rapidly as we found out.  We had that conversation on Monday and on Friday we had another talk.  He had a letter to his parents from the vice principal about being behind in two courses and failing to have submitted a book report.  I gradually got the whole story out of him.  He had forgotten to take his homework to the cabin even realizing it on the way up.  His dad had asked him a couple of times if he had any and he had said no.  If he had told his father on the way, then his mom could have shipped his books to the general store and we could have gotten it midweek.  So there was this combination of several failures made worse by evasions and lies and real consequences.  Short of shooting up the school we could not come up with a much worse situation.

"Are you thinking of what I'm afraid you're thinking?" he asked me very fearfully apparently being afraid to actually say it.  As I nodded, I was listing his faults many of them repeated – lying, childish irresponsibility, endangering his future, school work so bad that it got a letter from the VP.

"Do you honestly think a spanking is sufficient punishment?  Or even several?"  Sadly he shook his head.

"Or grounding?"  The same response.

"Should I send you back to your father with my resignation as your official spanker?"  Ditto.

"I'll going to have to punish you very severely, Davy."

"Yes, Junior, I understand.  It is my own stupid fault."

"Here the deal." I said after a few minutes.  "You're going to get spanked – extra hard.  You're grounded with an early bedtime after which nothing but sleep or school reading.  No Friday night deserts (his mom makes extra special stuff then).  I'm going to shave your nice new pubes off.  Finally, we will review this situation every week until your grades are back to where they belong."

He just sat there with his head in his hands quietly for a while.  I'm sure he was looking for an out that was not there and then to accept what was to be.  As when I always punished him I had my private doubts if I was too strict or to lenient.  Then he spoke, softly and sadly, in his little naughty boy voice which indicated that he had accepted that the punishment decreed: "Yes, Junior, please punishment me as I have unfortunately merited."

I started by sending him to get dad's clippers, razor and the other stuff that we would need.  When he returned, he stood in front of me and recited his long list of crimes even before I asked and asked me to punish him as we had discussed and had he richly deserved.  I started by striping him.  It really make him feel like a small boy and not a youth almost a macho man and enhances the effectiveness of the punishment.  First I strapped him.  I used his own heavy leather belt on him as he leaned over my bed.  I gave him twenty hard WHACKS! with the folded up belt.  I know it hurt far more than when I spanked him with my hand but he did not cry and took them stoically with only a few grunts.  It left his bottom nice and tender for my hand.  I liked how the belt made nice red stripes every time it connected with his ass.

Then I took him over my lap for a hard hand spanking.  It was strange that he started with a red bottom.  He was much easier on him as I found out with the first spank.  He really jumped like he does at the end of a normal spanking.  I would have to teach him to cry from the strap in the future.  I proceeded spanking him so that he was crying and promising that he would be good and make up his work and please stop.  That plea was, of course, useless.  We had a long way to go.  I told him how he was a bad, bad boy and that I was truly disappointed in him.  He broke soon after and I gave him a lot of insurance spanks to pound the lesson in.  But rather than use my hand, I used the end of his own belt.  I let him cry a long time.

I led him into the bathroom and had him stand in the tub.  Then I used dad's clipper and clear cut the newly grown crop of pubic hair he had.  He had a lot of trouble keeping the waterworks to a minimum because this hurt him more – inside – than the spanking had.  I got him wet (the shower was real handy) and covered the area with the shaving cream.  He asked me: "May I do it myself?"

"No!  You may put your hands on your head."  I then slowly and deliberately proceed the remove the stubble.  It was a simpler job than with his father for he had a lot less hair.  He even got an erection as I moved his dick around to get by the base.  I rinsed him off and stepped back to see what he looked like.  He was going to regret asking that question because I saw that he still had some man-hair in his armpits.  I picked up the shaving cream and covered the hair that had to go next.  He was pleading with his eyes but he knew that I would not stop.  A few swipes and it was gone.  I got him rinsed again.  I watched him dry off and brought him back to my room.  I had him stand next to me in front of the full length mirror.  He did not look like he was youth of fifteen and a half but a boy of under twelve with a hairless crotch.

I asked him a hard question: "You like being like a little boy?"  He shook his head.  "You how to change that image?"

"Yes, Sir.  I'll do my best."  I let him dress and go home.

On Monday he called me just before his bedtime and this is what he said he said happened in gym.

I was being hassled just as I expected and then I confronted the nastiest one with everyone else around.  The guy had broken one of the unwritten laws of the locker room – he admitted publicly that he had checked out my crotch so I had a way out.

"OK, asshole, so you're interested in my equipment.  This is the story: I lost my pubes because I fucked up and am being punished, PERIOD. The details are my business and not yours.

"But the rest still works.  (I stroked it a bit and it stood up for the occasion.)  So you're interested my cock.  OK,  you can suck it here and now and you won't get any hair in your teeth.  Or perhaps you prefer it up your fat butt?  I don't have any lube but you're probably so loose it won't matter."

I got a round of laughter from the class and the asshole just went away.  I don't expect any more trouble at school.  But I know that everyone will be looking and probably laughing at me behind my back.  It's really tough having to tell your peers that you're getting punished.  It is just as bad as them seeing me get spanked.

Of course, he was embarrassed as hell and was really working to get back on track and get his grades up.

He asked his teachers to give the VP a report on Friday afternoon so he could have an update letter for his dad.  Actually he wanted it for me and delivered still sealed.  He was less pleased with the report than I was.  So I gave him another spanking preceded with a strapping.  Even though I gave him only ten strokes rather than twenty, it affected him more than the first time.  Of course, he cried and broke when I had him over my lap.  I eased off on the his curfew time and allowed the deserts on Friday again.  Of course, he was still grounded.

At home he said that he could get motivated just by putting his had down his pants and feeling what he did not have any more.  At school he could not do this, but found that the belt about his waist which had kissed his ass so hard was also an effective reminder.

When he thanked me for not shaving him again, I warned him that if he slips any, then I will and kept him that way until school is over.  He thought that was a fair deal.

* * * * * * * * * *

As I said at the begging, it has been a year that I have been Davy's Official Spanker and we are back at the cabin.  The four of us talked the whole thing out at dinner.  Dave did not mind that his father felt that Dave and I were harder on Dave then he would have been.  What mattered most – to Dave – was that he was not being treated as a little boy still being spanked now that he was almost sixteen over his daddy's lap.  We all agreed that everything was good and that I would remain Dave's Official Spanker.

The End

© Copyright A.I.L., December 24, 1999

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