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Uncle Charley
Part 1

by Bud Johnson

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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: 11 Dec 2016

Uncle Charley

Uncle Charley was an early retiree from an auto company. Charley was a 62 year old conservative bachelor with Salt ’n’ Pepper thinning hair combed neatly back. He had been a management level auto-employee until the early 1990s. This was in the year 2000.

Charley lived alone in a double wide mobile home away from Cleveland. It took Carl almost an hour to find it in the mobile home park. He had never been in that area of the metropolitan ground before. This was just after sunset on a Tuesday in early October.

Uncle Charley had just started answering personal ads but had been stimulated by the idea of giving an authentic traditional spanking since he was a boy. He always saw himself as the spanker. He watched early T.V. shows in the 1950s and loved to watch scenes where a father spanks his boy for disobedience. Of course, rarely more than a swat or two was ever seen on T.V. Charley would imagine the rest. He had been spanked by his Dad when he was a boy.

After Carl arrived to the unfamiliar mobile home, he stepped up a small ladder that extended down from the doorway to the drive. Carl knocked politely on the door, standing next to a porch light.

Just a minute please the muffled voice of Charley is heard over the wriggling of the door knob. A soft sound of rumbling vacuumed air followed as the door pops open. Charley stuck his head out beyond the door to look.

You’re Carl I presume. Charley’s voice rang out with a brushy manner in a quiet, ambiguous way.

Carl extends his arm to shake Charley’s hand. Yes Sir. It is nice to meet you

Each of them eyed the other pleasantly. They each liked what they saw. Charley has an image of the fatherly type that Carl has always been drawn too. He has that 1950s grey flannel look about him. Not too buff in stature nor was he flamboyant, but appearing as a regular man. Carl was, as he had said during their telephone conversation, a big guy but not obese, around 35 years of age.

Come on in! Have a seat here. Charley moves fully into the kitchen. He likes big guys.

Can I get you a Coke or a beer? Charley asks.

Carl pulls a chair out from the kitchen table. Sure. Thank you. I’ll take a Coke. Carl posed the question, So how long have you been interested in this

Not too long ago. Maybe more than a year. I’ve thought about it for years. Charley spoke with genuineness.

Ads like mine? Carl wondered.

Oh yes. I have noticed them since the 1950s. Back then, ads were harder to spot. I have probably thought about it since I was a teenager, like you say you did. He spoke with a hedge in his voice.

Carl said, I thought about it since I was a little kid

Charley said, Yes. He turned inward toward the table and stopped. After a healthy pause like it was scripted, When I first opened the door, I was going to chew you out for being so late!

Charley said it with a smirk. But I know it’s hard to spot these houses once the sun starts to set

Carl nervously said, I am sorry

Oh you’re going to get a spanking all right, but after we get to know each other a little bit first. Charley said firmly but playfully. He signaled to Carl to come inside.

The two men started to talk. Carl talked about his job. Charley talks about his retirement over the last year. The conversation had turned quite pleasantly. But then Carl, sounding more unexpected asked, So what got you into it

Charley said reflectively, I have this twelve year old big boy that comes around and does odd jobs for me here. I’d never do this with a kid but that is when I really started to think about it more often

There was no mincing of words. Both the older and younger man were speaking openly and candidly. Finding two men into traditional style corporal punishment fantasies is rare enough. The subject aroused both of them.

The sun had set completely. Charley finished the story about the big kid that comes by. Then he asked forthrightly, So what do you want me to use on you

Confronting the reality of his fantasies Carl said with an uncertain anxious jitter, Oh, I don’t know: The palm of your hand, hairbrush... I like for Dad to choose.

Did you bring anything to use like I’d asked

There is a bag of stuff in my car. Do you want me to get it?

It was all matter-of-fact like. Charley agreed and had Carl go out to his car and fetch the bag of implements. In the bag there was a new Razor Strop, a Jacari Paddle, a few lighter paddles, and a wooden rod he bought as a craft store. No hairbrush though.

After Carl came back inside, Uncle Charley looked through the bag making comments as he went. Boy I bet that one hurts

Charley chose an oddity. It was a pliable swimming shoe slipper. Picking it up and slapping its sole into his palm, This will teach you to be on time ...

It turned Carl on though he tried not to show it. Charley had said it with a chortle. Carl thought that his laugh might have been out of his own nervousness.

Charley turned to Carl looking up briefly and said, Why don’t you drop your drawers and bend over the back of that coach there

Carl thought to himself how that sounded almost mechanical but matter of fact like. He also is aware of how much that swimming slipper burns! Carl looked back to this Uncle Charley and noticed how old fashioned he appears. Carl moved over to the back of the couch nervously, dropping his drawers, and quietly bent over the back. He said, Yes Sir

Charley excitedly moves up behind the bigger man, puts an arm on the small of his back, and lets three solid cracks ripped with the solid slipper.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

Carl yelled on the last one. It burned!

Charley pulls the rod out of the bag and said matter-of-factly, I’ll give you six of the best with this

The ¾ inch diameter wooden rod was really oversized for a spanking cane, but...

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!

Carl begs for mercy. The man seems to know what he is doing. Charley tells him to go into the bedroom and take his pants off. We can finish up in there. You’re gonna get it good

Charley had switched back to the swimming slipper as he guided Carl across his lap on the bed. Then he propped him up over some pillows and really let him have it. Unlike other men he had seen before, Charley focused strictly on the spanking with the rubber swimming slipper. Uncle Charley watched Carl really buck and struggle but he laid it on good and hard.

Carl hollered throughout. He let go to the conservative grey-haired man who disciplined and chastised him like an over grown, teen-aged brat.

All of a sudden, Charley broke out of character. In his normal voice as Carl had known it to be he asked, How was that? Hard enough

Feeling a bit strange, Carl agreed that it was a realistic whooping. But the strangeness continued when Charley asked other questions like what did he think about the weather lately, and so forth.

More unexpected things happened. Charley took his cloths off, got into bed with Carl and talked about how he couldn’t get a hard on any more, but he could satisfy him if Carl wants.

The two lay in bed naked and talked awhile. Charley described that in his 40s, he started to go to various YMCAs to seek sex with other men. Otherwise, he did not associate with other people outside of work. The night he first spanked Carl, he described what he used to do.

I would meet younger men in the small rooms that men would rent fort a night. Some men would have the light on but many did not. I’d just go into a room and fuck the guy. I rarely saw his face. I did not cuddle or kiss – just fuck ’em. I was like that for years.

Carl just listened. He was so matter of fact like. Carl had heard a lot of stories about gay life in the old days. Charley was not the discothèque type of man. But he gave one heck of a spanking, Carl had discovered.

Carl would see Uncle Charley again.

<End P1>

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