Traditions-The Reunion


by Gc <Gcstorm@aol.com>

Though readable as a separate story, this one is a sequel to another of my tales, 'Traditions'. The idea was suggested to me by one of my readers and I hope he likes what I did with his idea...

Looking around the school gymnasium I could hardly believe it had been ten years since I graduated from this place, it seems just like yesterday. The only big difference is everything seems so small compared to the image in my memory. I guess that's just what happens when you come home for a class reunion.

We had a great dinner at a local restaurant and then trooped over to the high school where they had a DJ for a dance afterwards. It was kind of fun looking around the hall at all the guys who had lost their hair and maybe got a bit chunky since school days and the girls who had either bloomed since high school or settled into a rut of motherhood or jobs.

Being gay I had of course never married and didn't have a partner at the moment so I was going stag at the dance, no big deal, I'm not much of a dancer anyway. After a bit I gravitated to a couple of buddies of mine that I hadn't seen in years and years, we used to be the gang of three as it were, hanging around together all the time and incidentally getting into trouble together as well. What we couldn't think of getting into wasn't worth doing and boy, we shared everything including getting our butts tanned when our latest prank got discovered. How many times had the three of us stood with our pants down either waiting our turn over one of our father's knees or sobbing from just having that experience I can't tell you, it was quite a few for sure.

I was standing with Jim and John, glasses of so called punch in our hands, it sure didn't pack much of a punch, and after getting through an update since last we saw each other we started in on the memories.

"Bill," said Jim, "do you remember the time that we stuffed about thirty chickens into old man Hennesey's Caddy?"

"Yeah," I replied, "I still think of him finding all those feathers and chicken crap in the car the next morning. At the same time I also remember how the three of us put on quite a performance for him once our dads found out about it, the three of us howling in perfect harmony while our dads tanned our bare butts for us with the old man cheering them on."

"It was something, the look on old man Hennesey's face when he opened the Caddy's door," laughed John, "even though I thought my father was trying his best to spank my behind into my belly button it was almost worth it. I couldn't sit for three days afterwards, though."

"You know," I said, "that was about the last time Dad ever spanked me that way. Shortly after that he switched over to using the old belt on my bottom instead, I'm glad he wasn't using that when we pulled that trick, I don't think I'd be sitting down yet!"

"A belt?" scoffed Jim, "I had a belt used on me a few times, it can't compare to Dad's paddle, that thing hurts worse than anything in the entire world!"

John was there with his wife and had to stick around so Jim and I took off for the local bar. Jim had never been married either and I had a suspicion that maybe he swung more my way than John's. I know we used to jerk each other off quite a bit when we were young and even got a little more adventurous than that on occasion, usually playing 'doctor' and performing some really intimate examinations on each other. That was years ago, I don't know how he feels today.

Jim and I found a booth in the bar and just talked about days of old, our adventures and mischief we got into and all the good times we had. It was kind of interesting, however, that a lot of our rememberings ended up with us over some father's knees or another while we got spanked. Sometimes it seemed as if we spent almost as much time with our pants down as up and it was rare, especially in the summer, that our backsides didn't show some signs of a good old fashioned talk between a man and a boy.

"Remember how when we used to sleep at each other's houses it seemed like we always had to get our butts tanned before we'd go to sleep?" chuckled Jim.

"I sure do!" I replied, "Maybe it was necessary to kick our sleep mode into gear, you needed a sore bum for it to work."

That seemed almost like setting an alarm clock before you go to bed, we would be giggling and fooling around for a long time until our father, which ever one happened to own the house we were staying in, would come upstairs, pull our Fruit of the Looms down or off, depending on which dad it was, and spank our little bums hot and sore. Most of the time it was two boys with red behinds glowing at the ceiling that finally fell asleep.

"It's funny that neither one of us felt our fathers in action with their favorite tool," Jim said, "maybe we just got better behaved as we grew older?"

"Nah," I replied, "I think it was because my dad's belt just hurt so much that I started to behave better, you've never felt anything that painful across your butt, believe me! John and I got to share a whipping once with it, I think we just lay there and cried for what seemed like hours afterwards."

"I still don't think it can hold a candle to Dad's paddle," retorted Jim, "I've never had my bum hurt as much as when he tanned my hide with that thing!"

"Well," I said, swallowing my last sip of beer, "I guess we'll never have a basis for comparison, we are way too old to get spanked now."

"Don't be too sure of that!" Jim replied, "I got my ass tanned big time in college when I flunked a subject and I was 22 at the time!"

Wow, that wasn't all that long ago, I got my last butt whipping at age 18 when I got a bit drunk and smashed up my car. I wasn't hurt then, though the car was totaled, but Dad more than made up for it with the belt once I got home. I think I still have a scar back there where I got cut when the belt bit the same spot lots of times.

"I don't know," I said, "there was just something about how Dad's belt used to just sear the skin on my butt that can't be compared to, I don't think anything can be that bad."

Jim ordered up another couple of beers and we sat there drinking them. I was getting to feeling pretty good, nowhere near drunk as yet but just feeling mellow.

"You know," Jim said, idly making interlocking circles with the bottom of his beer glass on the table, "we could find out which tool works the best."

My willie went from semi-soft to full erect in a split second, I'd swear you could have heard the 'sproing' as it strained against the fly of my pants.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"Well, I happen to have the paddle that Dad used on me at home," Jim said, "it had been passed down from father to oldest son for a few generations now. It's a bit worn on the blade end but still works pretty well to get a guy's attention. I'm sure I can find a belt around the house as well. What say for old times sake we go back to our childhood a while, I'll give you a licking with the paddle like Dad used to give to me, you can whup my tail with the belt and we'll compare notes afterwards."

What a thought! My mind flew back to years past, remembering the pain of getting a spanking either by hand or with the belt but at the same time I could remember the wonderful orgasms I had when I masturbated after the hiding was over. They say that the mind doesn't remember pain as well as it remembers pleasure otherwise a woman would never have a second kid and right now I was recalling the long, hard, ejaculations that always came after a spanking.

"You're not afraid of a little spanking, now are you?" Jim teased.

"Heck, no!" I said, draining the rest of my beer and putting some money on the table for a tip, "Let's go!"

We left the bar and went out to our cars and I followed Jim to his house on the outskirts of the town, way out on a dirt road and miles from anywhere. I thought as I drove along that I just happened to have the self-same belt resting in the trunk right now, Dad had given it to me a few years back with some remark about it being handy if I ever had kids and I just forgot about it. Until now.

As I got out of the car at Jim's house I popped the trunk with the dashboard button and rummaged around until I found the old belt, still in the bag as Dad had given it to me.

"What you got there?" Jim asked.

"Oh, just a little surprize," I replied, "I'm sure you'll get a kick out of it."

We went into the house, Jim turning lights on as he went. It was a nice little place, a log cabin of all things, and I found out that Jim had put it up himself from a kit about five years ago. The bedroom overlooked the livingroom being about half of the upstairs floor leaving a high ceiling over the living area.

"You're welcome to stay the night if you'd like to," Jim said, "it will save you a trip back home. Believe it or not, I still have the bed I had when I was a kid, new mattress but same old frame."

Jim grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and we climbed up the spiral staircase to the bedroom upstairs. It was kind of neat looking down over the low railing into the living room and I could see there were folding doors that could bridge the entire area for privacy if needed. Seeming as we were alone in the house that wouldn't be needed this evening.

The bedroom was very large and had a full bath off of it, once again open to the room but with the same style of folding doors to enclose it. Now they stood open so you could look right into the bathroom from the bedroom.

"As you can see I hate enclosed spaces," Jim said, "and frankly, anyone that objects to seeing me sitting on the john will never be in my bedroom in the first place. None of the guys I've brought up here have objected yet."

Nice. Jim turned out gay after all. This was looking up for sure!

"We need to decide who goes first in our experiment," I said, "how did your dad spank you, what position?"

Jim looked blank for a minute. "Why, across his knees," he said, "just like when he used his hand. The only difference was he used the paddle instead."

He walked over to the closet and opened it up and there was the paddle, hanging from a hook on the back of the door. He took it down and brought it over and handed it to me. I hefted it in my hand, it sure didn't feel like much, and I could see that all the edges of the blade were worn smooth as if they had rubbed against something for decades. The handle was all darkened from the sweat and oil of the hand of the person that had used it.

"I guess that makes me up first then," I said, "Dad made me lay on the bed on some pillows when he tanned my butt for me so I won't have to sit down in order to spank you."

"Let's see if I can find you a belt," Jim said.

"Don't bother," I replied, "I just happened to have this in the back of my car." I pulled the old leather belt out of the bag, as supple and sturdy as ever.

"Nothing like being prepared," Jim laughed.

"Okay, how did you prepare for a paddling?" I asked.

"Bare naked," Jim replied, "Dad didn't want any of me to over heat but my bottom when he spanked me."

I should have remembered, his Dad was one of the fathers that liked to have us naked for a spanking, I guess that didn't change with the change of heat source.

I took off my suitcoat and tie and then slowly unbuttoned my shirt and took that off. I slid my shoes off and hopped on one foot at a time to get my socks off. Unzipping my pants, I slid them over my feet and then took a deep breath and pulled down my briefs and tossed them on the pile of clothing. All I was wearing now was my wristwatch.

Jim just took off his jacket and tie and rolled up his sleeves. He put a sturdy chair in the middle of the floor and set the paddle beside it. Then he looked at me, standing there naked with my dick protruding, just like old times.

"Young man," he said, pointing toward the bathroom, "I want you to go in there and pee before we get going, I don't want you wetting my leg like you normally do."

Meekly, I went into the bathroom and stood in front of the toilet, the lid was up already this being a boy's house. I needed to pee pretty good all told, all that beer I had drank, and leaked for a long time regardless of my boner. I flushed and went back into the bedroom where Jim was sitting in the chair. He crooked his finger for me to come over to him.

I got over Jim's knees in the old classic position, bent at the waist with my legs hanging down. Jim had kindly held my boner down for me as I got down over his knees. This wasn't the first time I'd been in this position, we used to dole out spankings to each other as penalties when we lost a game or a bet or something like that, just being boys is all. Of course we followed our dads' example and always made these penalties payable on the bare bum. Those were silly spankings, though, this one was going to be sort of for real. By our agreement, Jim was going to spank me like his father did him, I'd do the same thing when it was my turn at his bottom.

"Dad still used to do this even after he switched to using the paddle," Jim said, running his hands all over my bottom, parting my crack and touching my anus and even squeezing his hand between my legs to give my nuts a gentle little squeeze. "I think he did it more to embarrass me than anything."

He's right, it is humiliating to be treated like this, as if he was showing me just how much control he had over my body right now, even the very private spots. He picked up the paddle and without further hesitation he spanked me.

It's hard to describe a first real spanking in about ten years or so, sure my bum had been smacked a few times in those years but it was more a bit of foreplay than any kind of punishment. Not this one, it hurt! I didn't cry because of it, I guess that I've gotten better able to handle pain over the years or it could be that this time I'm not actually expected to cry like when Dad was punishing me.

Crying aside, I can tell you for sure that in my younger days I would have paid a whole lot of attention to that paddle as it was wielded on my backside, the burn is incredible. The belt, near as I can remember, laid down thin, fiery stripes of pain, this thing was more of an all over burn for the width of the paddle stimulated a lot more of my bum's skin at a time. I did do some kicking and grunted on occasion as the paddle heated up my fanny and okay, once or twice I did yell a bit when it contacted a tender area of my bottom.

Jim spanked away for about ten, twelve minutes or so and that period of time left my bottom very, very, hot and sore, I'd say it was just about as hard a spanking as any Dad ever gave me with the exception of that last unforgettable hiding I got when I smashed up the car. That spanking was one to end all spankings, let me tell you, I had welts and bruises on my butt for a week and a half after that one, needless to say sitting was problematical for quite some time.

"Well, what you think?" Jim inquired as he put me on my feet. Almost automatically his right hand that just used a paddle to sear my bottom went out and was gently stroking my still erect dick, just like we had done as kids.

"It's been quite a while," I said, rubbing my fanny, "but I can tell you that I bet I'd be howling my lungs out if I was still a kid and that happened to me. It's not the same kind of spanking as one with the belt but it is quite impressive. My butt hurts!"

"I can assure you that I felt the same way when Dad got done with me," Jim laughed, "I figured that this paddle was about the ultimate in bottom warming tools."

Jim told me the history of the paddle, it had been handed down for a total of four generations, not just three like my belt. His I don't know how many times great grandfather made it to use on his boys and it had been in pretty much constant use down through the years on the bottoms of the younger generations in his family. Once again, just like the belt that Dad gave to me, it had never smacked a bare girl bottom, just boys.

"Dad told me once that this old paddle has made contact with a lot more than just family bottoms," he said, "Dad had two brothers who felt it quite a bit and he told me that on one occasion there were a bunch of guys sleeping out in a tent in the back woods and they decided to sneak out and cause some sort of trouble or another and got hauled home in the back of a pickup truck in the wee hours of the morning."

"Old grandpa didn't believe in putting things off so seeming as he was up anyway he took all those boys out into the barn right then and there." Jim continued, "He made them strip down to their skin and paddled each and every one of them, one after another. He turned eight boy bottoms scarlet that night, it took almost two hours to get the job done."

"I know from personal experience that even in his old age Gramps was inexhaustible when it came to administering a spanking," Jim said, "once when I was staying at his house during vacation I did something rotten and he treated me to a walk to the barn. My dad already had the paddle but that didn't stop Gramps, he found a piece of board that worked just as well and paddled the living crap out of me. It seemed like I was naked over his knees forever and boy, didn't my bottom hurt when he was finished with me! I never screwed up that badly again I can tell you."

By this time the flames burning on my rump had simmered down a bit so it was time for part two of the experiment. Although my father would let me leave my shirt on during a hiding, Jim didn't know that so I ordered him to strip naked just like he made me and then told him to go in and use the toilet to pee and bring back two towels with him. While he was gone I positioned the pillows on the bed as I had done so many times in the past. I could hear him making good use of the toilet, boy, you gotta love that beer!

I showed him how to place the towel over the pillows and then ordered him onto the bed. Belly over the pillows, bottom up and rounded nicely to accept the belt across it. Jim's crack was slightly parted and I could see the tuft of black hair coming from it. I tucked the second towel around his waist just above his ass crack, leaving his entire bottom exposed to the tender licks of the belt it was about to get.

"Okay, boy," I said, "take a good grip on the headboard and don't let go, if you do we'll have to start all over again."

I had only seen one other guy in this position, for a spanking, anyhow. That was the time that John got a licking with the belt while I watched with my own fanny flaming hot and tears still running down my face. This would be the first time I ever used the belt myself for a spanking. I surveyed the creamy white target and laid the leather across it to get my range.

I hate to say this but I got into spanking Jim with the belt big time. It gives you quite a sense of power to be turning a white behind hot and scarlet as well as increasing my horniness, time after time I brought that belt searing down across his bum. Having been on the receiving end of this game pretty darn often I knew the technique and took care of Jim's right cheek while standing at the left of the bed and walked around to deal with the left from the other, swatting the center of his ass when it was presented to me. Jim was a kicker, always had been one, and this tended to expose his crack and it's contents to me and I nailed his boy-hole quite a few times which elicited a yip from him every time it happened. Just like me, Jim didn't actually start crying from the whipping though his fanny was just crimson by the time I was finished tanning him.

I took the towel off from over his back and Jim got up from the bed. Just like when we were kids and had just gotten spanked we took each other's dicks in hand and jerked each other off, spewing all over each other and the floor. We both were exhausted by the time we were done and climbed into his oversized shower stall to wash up, a chore we undertook for each other. Drying off, we paused just long enough to clean up the spots from the floor and then climbed into his bed, laying side by side on our tummies just like in the past.

Lights out, we lay there for a while in silence, thinking over what had just happened.

"You know," Jim said quietly, "that should actually be just the first part of the experiment, maybe we both need a refresher course with the way our own fathers spanked before we can decide which hurts more, the paddle or the belt. Maybe we should meet again to continue our studies."

I reached over and rubbed my hand over his still hot fanny. "Sounds like a plan to me," I said.


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