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I Need A Spanking On My Bare Bottom
Andy And The Contacts

by PJ Franklin

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Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 25 Nov 2008

Author's Note: An observant reader pointed out to me his love of the phrase “I need a spanking on my bare bottom” in reference to a boy's recognition of same. I thought it would be fun to pursue the concept as a series of short first person stories revolving around the phrase and the many ways it can be shared. Enjoy!


Why did he have to provoke me like that!? I hate him for it! He MADE me push him off his bike! He called me a name I hate. He called me “four eyes!” I hate my glasses! I'm only 14, why do I have to wear these things!? They look stupid and make me feel like a freak. Nobody else in my grade has to wear glasses, except well, Jamie and that dorky new kid Yancy. OK, so Eric and Ben do too! It doesn't matter. The cool older kids get to wear contact lenses. Now those are cool! But Mom wouldn't let me. She said I wasn't old enough. I am too!!

My frustration built and flowed like those dumb nose bleeds I get every winter. I have allergies and it makes my nose kind of sensitive. I get sent to the school nurse and she freaks and calls my Mom. But what was going to happen now? Would Davey tell? Of course he would! He's only 12! I pushed a 12 year old boy off his bike on the walk home from school just because he went out of his way on his bike to call me “four eyes!” Was I nuts? Gezuz Andy!

I sat on the edge of my bed. Mom would be home in half an hour, Dad in an hour from then. Would Davey's parents call my parents and tell them? Davey did cry after he tumbled off the bike and yelled, “I'm gonna tell Andy Bates! You're gonna get in trouble!!”

I don't blame Davey. Mom and Dad have warned me about my temper. It can get out of hand for poor reasons sometimes. God I feel horrible right now. Why couldn't I have just ignored him or better yet, called him a “puny shrimp!” or anything!? He's kind of small even for 12 and I'm way bigger than him! Andy! You idiot!

Now my stomach was aching, really bad. I want to go to bed and not wake up for two days. Oh god! My stomach aches only for one reason, when I feel guilty and boy am I feeling guilty right now. I know what it is, I may as well just say it to myself, aloud.

“Andy, you need a bare bottom spanking!” No, that's not it. Come on guy, you need to say it like you would to Dad, practice,

“Daddy? I've done a bad thing. I need a spanking on MY bare bottom.”

Whew! I said it and I mean it. Davey has every right to tell his parents that I pushed him off his bike. I would, I know I would if I were him.

I sigh big. It's going to be the hairbrush. Dad stopped spanking me with his hand two years ago when I was twelve, said I was old enough to be paddled with the brush. I knew other guys who got hairbrush spankings. One of them told me about it before I got my first one. He was right. It hurts like the holy dickens.

Let's see, when was my last hairbrush spanking? That would be four months ago, when I complained to Dad about not being able to go to the beach with Tommy Mason and his family. I had to go visit Aunt Myrtle instead. Boring!! Only I made way too big a deal out of it. Dad got tired of my whining and fixed my whining all right. That one really hurt too! So what's this one going to be like? Oh maann! I'm in for it.

But suddenly, I sit up. I feel better already! It's working, as usual. Mom says I'm growing up to be just like Dad, not always in the best of moods, but quick to own up. I guess I like that. I've seen Dad blow up, really bad sometimes and even when it's probably for a good reason, he always apologizes and gives us all hugs if we were in hearing distance. That's my Dad and Mom's right, I'm just like him.

I swallow and stand, walk out of my room and into the bathroom. That's where the hairbrush is. Nobody knows why we keep it there, it never gets used as a hairbrush, for hair. I find it. I'd know this thing anywhere. I could pick it out of a pile of hairbrushes. The wood is a dark brown and has this funny grainy pattern on the back, the business side, like Dad says.

I take it with me back to my bedroom. Time passes like molasses, but I hear Mom come in the back door. Should I tell her first? Maybe I better. I gulp and stand up and take the brush with me. She'll know what that means. I walk down the hall, pause before I round the corner and go through the door into the kitchen. I take a deep breath and then I do it. I stand in the doorway. She sees me.

“Andy? Is there a problem?” she says, seeing me holding the brush.

“Yes Mommy. I.... um..... I.... did a bad thing.... I pushed Davey Allen off his bike...... I.... um.... I got angry. He called me 'four eyes' and..... I couldn't stop myself.” And my voice just peters out at the end.

“Oh honey!” she sighs and just then the phone rings.

My heart starts to pound hard. I watch her face and listen to her talk.

“Yes Myra, I just got home. Andy told me what he did. Is Davey OK?”

Oh god yes, please let him be OK!

“Well, that's good...... OK...... that would be fine. Bring him over about seven and Andy will apologize to him,” and then she hung the phone up and looked at me,

“Well, you know who that was. Now go back to your bedroom. Dad will be home soon and help you deal with this. Myra is going to bring Davey over later and you can apologize to him.”

“Yes Mommy” I said, realizing everything she said was the right way to do things. But having to face Davey when he will know I've been spanked will be kind of hard. I turned to go to my room.


I turned back, “Yes Mommy?”

“I'm proud of you for owning up so quickly, and for knowing what you need,” she said gesturing to the hairbrush. That made me feel real good. I turned again,

“Um... Andy?”

I turned back.

“You know honey. I was thinking. Maybe you're not too old for contact lenses. I'll talk to Dad about it after your punishment, OK?”

OK?! OK?!! I nearly screamed “Yesss! Yesss!”

I calmly smiled my best smile and straightened up my posture to try and look older, “Thank you Mommy!.... I mean.... Mom,” maybe I was getting too old to say “Mommy,” except I liked saying “Mommy.”

I rushed back to my bedroom and sat on my bed top, setting the hairbrush to my right. Contacts! If Dad said it was OK, I could get contacts! My heart was racing a mile a minute and I picked up the hairbrush and lay back on my bed, setting it on my chest. I closed my eyes.



My eyes opened! I sat up and barely caught the hairbrush that was falling from my chest. I must have napped. I looked up, “Daddy?”

Dad closed the bedroom door and my mind quickly cleared. I remembered the word “contacts” and also why I was in my bedroom with the brush. I stood up and faced him, “Um Daddy? I was bad today. I pushed Davey Allen off his bike, just because he called me a name I didn't like...... I..... I need a spanking on my bare bottom, please?” and then shuddered all over. I held out the brush to my Dad's big hand.

He took it and cocked his head, and gently patted his other palm with the business side of the hairbrush, “Yes, Mom told me all about it. Davey is coming over later then?”

“Yes Daddy, um...... Dad.”

Shut up Andy! Don't say Dad just to fake that you're older than you really are. That's stupid! Just say what you really feel!

He nodded, “I wasn't going to tell you this before your punishment Andy, but you've been so quick to confess and you're a good boy besides.....”

Oh yes! Oh yes, I'm all ears Daddy!

“......but Mom and I talked. It would seem that you are old enough to have and take care of contact lenses.”

I could feel tears nearly coming to my eyes. She did tell him! They did talk! Why am I so emotional over contact lenses!? I don't know! I just feel so happy! But I hold it in, like a real man should. I nodded, “I'd really.... um... like that Daddy. Thanks for con....considering it,” and the word “consider” stumbles clumsy-like out of my mouth, but it's a good word. Don't want to seem too anxious about it.

“Let's get to it shall we?” he says with a kind of warm confidence that makes me feel good about what I know I need to do.

I nod and step away from him, kick off my runners to my stocking feet, unzip my jeans and pull the snap away. From there I push my jeans and my white briefs together to my ankles and step out of them. I can feel the cooler room air hit my bare bottom. Now I only have my T-shirt on and I step quickly to Daddy's side. He has already sat down.

I look at his face. He gives me a small smile of approval. How do I know? Oh, trust me. When Daddy does not approve, his face shows it. Not this time. This time he knows I'm being responsible and he's proud of me. I'm proud of me, I think.

I slide forward across his knees and stop when I feel my bare bottom right at the angle of Daddy's thigh. I put it there so that the hairbrush will find all of my bare bottom and the top of my thighs too. When Daddy paddles me with the brush, it has to cover from the top of my bare bottom right to my sit-spots. That way, when I have to sit down for supper later, I will be reminded of my responsibility to keep my temper in control and not push innocent boys like Davey, ever again.

I put my hands on the floor. I hope I can keep them there, but I'm not sure about that. Sometimes the hairbrush spanking hurts too much and they just fly back to try and protect my bottom. But that's OK. Daddy will just catch them, hold them safely away and he won't even get angry with me for it. So I wait.

“Anything to say Andy?” he asks me.

“Yes sir, may I please have a hard spanking on my bare bottom now?” I say, I guess because I'm so excited about getting contacts now and I want everything perfect. I close my eyes, pushing my bare bottom up high.

“Yes you may Andy,” Daddy says with a little wink in his voice.

I feel the first stinging swats. Daddy paddles not that hard at first, but fast. He builds it up. At first, as the brush's hard wood surface goes up and down my right cheek and then up and down my left cheek, I think I can stand it! I think I can keep my hands on the floor. I push my bottom up high and try and keep it there to show him that I know that I need this spanking, I need it and accept it.

But then, the brush swats get a lot harder, but slower. The sting is making my eyes water. My body lurches to one side then the other and now he's giving my sit-spots extra hard swats! Oh no! Tears are streaming and my hands are lifting off the floor, they're....... they..... I can't help myself, but Daddy has them now and they're pressed firmly into my lower back.

Daddy says nothing as he starts again. I hope against hope that the brief pause will make things not so harsh, but no luck there!

“Daddy!” I shout, but I know there'll be more! I feel my thighs spread, anything to try and make it feel better, but there's no use and the brush starts to blister the inside of my thighs now as well and I can't close them up, not now! I know I need it! It hurts so badly, but I have to take it now!

“Daddy! Please!” I shout, but that old hairbrush now travels back up my right cheek right to my crown, teaching me my lesson on my bare bottom all the way. Now it goes down my left cheek all the way to my sit-spot. Yeouuuch!!!

“Daddy! I'm so sorry!!!” and now I'm just crying and bawling and can't help it.

“Dadddddieee!” and then it stops!

My bare bottom just throbs like when you move your hand up and down over a red hot stove coil and feel the heat. Daddy lets go of my hands and I put them back on the floor. I stay still, I keep my bottom up high, just in case.

“Now, do you think you're going to be more careful with that temper of yours Andy?”

“Yes sir, Yes Daddy,” I sniff back some snot.

“OK, good, you may get up,” and he helps me to standing, keeping his hand firmly on my arm until he knows I won't get dizzy and fall.

I look back. My bare bottom is beet red, top to thigh, both sides just like always. I sigh. I wipe my face.

Dad stands and sets the hairbrush down. His hand gently ruffles my hair, “I'm very proud of you Andy. Mom told me that you told her what you had done before Mrs. Allen called. That takes courage.”

His words make my bottom feel so much better and I lean into him and wrap my arms around him, “I love you...... Dad,” and the word comes out just like that. Maybe I don't need to call him “Daddy” any more, but what does it matter.

“I love you too Andy. Take your time. Mom says supper should be in about 30 minutes.”

I nod and watch him leave my room. I rub my sore bottom gently, but decide it's best to just leave it as it is. I know sitting will be very uncomfortable, but that's OK. I get dressed. Just pulling on my jeans over my briefs is kind of hard, but I do it. Then I take the brush and walk it back down to the bathroom and put it in the drawer. I sigh. Another bare bottom spanking is in the books. Later, at supper when I sit, I feel the burn. I don't move or shift, I just let it burn. It reminds me of why it feels that way and maybe I won't let my temper get away again.


“Mom!” I yell impatiently. She appears quickly, she was kind of waiting for it I guess and she's there at the bathroom door. I look at her with a sour face, “I can't get the right one to go in! Why is it so hard when the left one went in so easy!?”

She laughs, “You wanted contact lenses Andy, but they're not perfect. Just slow down and don't lose your temper for it.”

I sigh, “Yes Mam,”I say and smile. Finally, the lens goes in. I step back and smile. I can see perfectly.

Later, after school that day, Davey Allen comes riding up next to me as I walk home.

Having him come over my house for me to apologize that night wasn't so bad after all. He apologized to me for saying “four eyes” and I apologized to him for pushing him. Actually, Davey is a cool little guy. I even took him to my room and asked him if he wanted to see my burnt bottom. He grinned and nodded and I showed him my red cheeks. Funny, his face screwed up and he got all emotional and said, “I'm really sorry Andy. Your Dad sure can spank hard!” I nodded and agreed and then pulled up my pants and showed Davey my collection of Transformer bots that night.

So Davy says, “I sure would like to see your bots again Andy,” and he's really polite when he asks.

I smile warmly at him, “Sure Davey! How about right now?”

He grins big, “Sure! And I like you better without glasses.”

“Yea, me too!” I grin back, but now I realize that liking a person, especially yourself, just because of glasses and stuff like that is immature. Dad says so and I believe him, I'm just like him.


The End

PJ Franklin

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