Justifiable Use of Force


by Eric Blyton (Click for Author's Home Page)<Ericblyton@hotmail.com>

Max Baker strode confidently down the hallway of Northgate Middle School. Despite the fact that he was in the seventh grade, most people to glance at him would have assumed that he was in the eighth. Always a tall boy, hed been shooting up even higher over the past year. Nor was he skinny, like some of his friends who had started growth spurts. The adjective that one might be tempted to use would be beefy or husky. Not fat, or even plump, because that would have implied a softness or flabbiness that just wasnt there.

The door to the classroom to the left opened and the students emptied into the hallway. Max stood and waited for Jim and Alan to come out of study hall. By virtue of being on the honor roll, Max was able to spend last period in the library or the rec room, but his friends were not so fortunate. They fell in on either side of him as he resumed marching toward the lockers.

"Learn anything?" he asked them.

"Mr. Ambrose had the class," Jim said by way of explanation. Mr. Ambrose, the oldest teacher in the school was somewhat deaf and generally did nothing other than review his work during study period. On the days that he was in charge of study hall, you could get away anything short of screaming.

"So what did you do?" Max asked.

"See that short kid over there?" Alan said, pointing to a dark-haired boy scurrying through the mass of students.

Max looked where Alan was pointing and picked out the boy. He was indeed short, though not overly so, and had a thin face. A bit on the skinny side. Max couldnt come up with a name.

"Whos he?"

"He just got here after Christmas break. Named Clayton something-or-the-other. Total dweeb."

"Thinks he knows it all," Jim added. "Kept putting his hand up in science class."

"Only been here three weeks and thinks hes got the run of the place," Alan continued. "We spent the last period whaping him in the back of his head with paper."

Max had been the one to show Alan how to wad up paper and launch it from a rubber band, so he knew exactly what he was talking about. Made a very effective missile.

"Teach him to sit in the front," Max said with a grin. Of course, he knew that entering school half-way through the year, you would almost certainly be stuck with one of the front seats as they were the least desirable, but so what? The kid should know to keep his trap shut.

"Hello, Max," a middle-aged man said just before trio entered the auditorium where the lockers were. Max stopped and saw his math teacher, Mr. Phillips facing him. Mr. Phillips was also the coach of the basketball team Max played on. He smiled and stopped to talk to the man. Being good in both schoolwork and sports, he was very popular with the faculty. Had he been good-looking, hed probably have been the most popular boy in school, but his looks were just average. He had a pale face with a wide spray of freckles topped by dark brown hair that he kept very short. Not plain, but not striking either. Max never thought about it; hed not yet developed any interest in girls and his looks were the last thing on his mind.

After being dismissed by Mr. Phillips, they went and put their books up, keeping only those that they needed for homework and made their way out to the parking area where the school buses were. There was a fifteen minute wait before you could get on the bus, so they ambled toward the bench that they usually sat on. It was just off the sidewalk under a tree. As Max and his friends approached it, he could see someone was sitting there. To his disgust, he saw that it was Clayton whatever-his-name-was.

"This is our bench," he said as they moved in front of the sitting boy. Clayton had been listening to headphones and not heard them approach. He glanced up, startled. When he saw who Max was flanked by, his eyes went wide. As fast as he could, he scooted to one end of the bench. This left plenty of room for the other three boys to sit (and more), but Max was having none of it.

"I said MOVE!" he demanded, ripping the headphones from the smaller boys head.

Now in a bit of a panic, Clayton tried to throw everything back into his open backpack and zip it up.

"Not fast enough," Max announced, pulling the kid by the back of his shirt and throwing him to the grass. Alan and Jim shouted their encouragement and glee and their leaders handling of the situation. The pipsqueak was looking at him with a mixture of shock and fear. Were there tears starting in his eyes?

"I....I was moving," he stammered.

"I was moving," Max repeated in a mocking, falsetto voice.

"Move faster next time," Jim suggested.

Trying to recover some ounce of dignity, Clayton closed back his backpack and rose to his feet. He warily walked towards Max right side and the bigger boy saw something shiny in the grass. Gently, but firmly, he put his foot on it.

"Thats mine," Clayton protested.

"Thats mine," Max imitated, using the same voice hed used before.

"I want it back," the other boy insisted, using a little more force this time. Max wasnt going to put up with that for a minute. If the kid had begged like he should have, hed have let him have it back after hed supplicated properly, but this attitude had to be adjusted. He hit the twerp once in the stomach, hard enough to wind him. Clatyon collapsed on the ground, gasping for air with tears streaming down his face. Adding insult to injury, Jim kicked dirt on him.

"Call it rent for using our bench," Max suggested. "Here, you have it all to yourself. We wouldnt want to sit on it after your smelly ass has been on it, anyway."

He leaned over to retrieve the disputed item, which turned out to be the other boys DiscMan. Then the three of them left and walked toward the school bus.

"Wonder what sissy _s_h_i_t_ he was listening to anyway?" Max said, opening it. He closed it back with a sharp click when he recognized Jimmy Eat Worlds "Bleed American". That was one of his favorites and somehow he didnt want his friends to know that their victim had the same music taste as him.

"You gonna keep that thing, Max?" Alan asked.

"Naw. What do I need this for? One of you two can just put in on his desk tomorrow. I think hes learned his lesson."

Back on the ground, Clayton was finally getting his breath back. He had cried a good amount, but it had been silent and he hoped that other than the three bullies, no one had noticed. The pain in his stomach was receding to manageable levels and he sat up. Using his shirt, he cleaned off his face and looked around. Everyone else was streaming onto the bus, but there was no way that he could ride on that now. His tormenters would be there and he knew that getting on would just provide another chapter to his _s_h_i_t_ty day and, worse, then the whole school would know that he was a target. That would only attract more bullies. Better to walk down the road and catch a city bus. He regretted the loss of his headset, but he knew no good way to get it back. Going to an authority with this story result in it being returned, but he knew hed pay a much higher price than it was worth. Let it go and just see what the next few days brought. Feeling very small and lonely, Clayton trudged down the sidewalk. He didnt notice the car pulling out of the parking lot, and even if he had, he wouldnt have bothered to wonder what a man was doing leaving with no kids in the vehicle given that he wasnt in the faculty area.

That evening, the Baker household was filled with the smell of roast pork. Max, his two younger sisters and parents sat down around the dinner table. His mom was quite a good cook and Max served himself a big portion. While he ate, he chatted with his mother and sisters.

"You seem out of sorts, Dear," his mother said at one point. They all looked at his father, who had been uncharacteristically silent.

"Im annoyed," Mr. Baker said.

"What about, Dad?" Max asked.

His dad paused a minute before answering, as if considering what to say.

"Our friendly neighbor, Dr. Barter," he said. "I go to leave this morning and find that my car is splattered with mud again. Because hes been watering his shrubbery with that _d_a_m_n_ high-pressure hose of his. Dont know how they havent been dug out of the ground with all the dirt hes flung onto our property."

"Is that all?" Mom said.

"No, its not all. I saw him out there and so I asked, nicely I might add, if he could please be more careful. Its the third time this has happened. He just shrugged and said that his hose wasnt long enough and I was quite welcome to buy him a longer one. I swear, I wanted to march right over there and bop him one on that perfect nose of his."

"Andrew!" Mrs. Baker said.

"Well, I didnt do it," Dad said.

"I know you didnt, but I dont want that kind of talk in front of the children."

"They understand that theres a difference between wanting to do something and actually doing it, Im sure." Mom looked skeptical and so he continued.

"Max," he said, why wouldnt I go and slug Dr. Barter?

"Well, cause youd get in trouble," he said.

"But hed damaged my property."

"Hed call the cops, or something. Youre bigger than him, Dad. And younger, too."

"You see, he understands," Mr. Baker said to his wife.

"Only that youll get arrested if you assault the neighbor," she pressed.

"Is that true, Max?" Dad asked. "Is that the only reason I shouldnt hit him?"

"I mean, come on, Dad. All he did was get dirt on your car. You can wash it right off. Thats not a good reason to hit someone."

"No it isnt. In fact, I never considered hitting him, I just felt like it. However, I know better and Im glad that you do, too."

The subject was dropped and dinner continued. Afterwards, Max cleaned off his place and stacked his dished in the dishwasher before retreating to his room. Hed fibbed and said he had homework when in fact, hed done it during his free period. That left the whole evening free for him to play with the GameCube hed gotten for Christmas. He took off his slacks and lay on his bed in a T-shirt and briefs, eyes fixed to the screen and fingers dancing over the controls. At some point, he was vaguely aware of a car pulling off and assumed that his Dad had to go out for something, but he gave it no more thought than that. A few minutes later, there was a sharp rap at his door, followed by it opening. He paused the game and turned his head to see his father walking in.

"I thought youd gone out," Max said.

"No, that was your mother and sisters. Theyve gone to your aunts for an hour or so. Turn that thing off, Max, Id like to talk to you for a bit."

"Ive got it paused," he said, putting down the control.

"Off," Dad said firmly, and he strode over and hit the power button on both the game console and the TV.

"Dad! I didnt have it saved! Now Im gonna have to start again," Max complained.

"Then you should have done what I asked in the first place, and it wouldnt have happened."

Max sat up. It was clear that there was something serious going on here, but he didnt know what it was. The wisest thing was to be on his best behavior until he found out what was up. His father pulled up a chair and sat in it backwards, his arms folded over the back.

"Do you want to tell me about an incident that happened after school today?" he asked. Inwardly, Max flinched. That _d_a_m_n_ Clayton kid had ratted. Max had figured him for one who would keep his mouth shut, but hed guessed wrong. Probably taking the CD player had done it. Now was the time for spin. Later, hed make plans to deal with the little snitch.

"I got in a shoving match with another kid," Max said, looking at the floor and trying to look penitent. He dropped his CD player and I picked it up. I was going to give it back to him, but he didnt get on the school bus, so I kept it in my backpack and tomorrow morning, I was going to give it to Alan to put on his desk. They have a couple of classes together."

All that was true, as far it went. Whether or not he would get away with it would depend on how much the wimp had reported.

"It was just a shoving match?" Dad asked. "You didnt punch him?"

"No!" Max lied. "I shoved him, though. And he did fall down. Thats when he dropped his CD player."

He figured that he had to admit hed knocked the kid down. If he pleaded guilty to a minor charge, hed probably be able to get away with the other stuff. After all, it was his word against Claytons. And he could get Jim and Alan to back him up if he needed.

"Your mother has taken the girls and went to visit her sister. Im just as glad, now."

Max was taken aback by this change in topic. What did that have to do with anything?

"I got off early from work today," Dad continued. "I thought that perhaps youd like to see a movie with me, so I went by your school and waited in the parking lot for you. I was just about to hail you when I saw you go over to that boy on the bench. Not only could I see you, I could hear every word that was said. If I hadnt been so shocked by your behavior, I would have been out of the car and stopped it. When you hauled off and hit him like that, my jaw just dropped. Kind of like yours is doing now."

Max was aware that his mouth was hanging open and he shut it so fast he nipped his tongue. He didnt know what to say. What could he say?

"I watched you leave and then stayed for a bit to make sure the other boy was okay. After that, I drove off to think. Before I continue, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Max gulped. He opened his mouth and tried to make words come out, but nothing would.

"I made up that story at dinner about Dr. Barter, by the way. It wasnt a perfect analogy, but I wanted to make a point. You admitted that you know a person cant just go around hitting people. Not only because itll get you in trouble, but because its wrong. I must say, seeing the three of you go after that boy like a pack of rabid hyenas, that was the first time I was ever ashamed that you were my son. Deeply ashamed."

Now Max felt shame himself. It had seemed like sport at the time, but he was now running the scene back in his head from his Dads perspective in an attempt to fashion some sort of defense. Not only did he realize that there was no excuse, he understood how bad his actions would have looked to an observer.

"So you did something that you knew very well was wrong. The same way an adult would be punished for assaulting someone, youll have to answer for your crime as well. What do you suppose Im going to do about it?"

"Im....Im grounded for two months?" Max said. Hed only ever been grounded for one month, but he knew Dad was serious. Perhaps hed consider that an appropriate sentence.

"No. I thought about doing that, combined with extra chores. To be honest, I was still debating it when I came in here to talk to you. However, you decided to lie on top everything else. For that, young man, you are going to be severely spanked."

Max stomach tied into a knot as his digestive juices went haywire and his skin went numb.

"No. Im sorry, Dad, please dont spank me!" he begged.

"Given your behavior earlier today, I find the sight of you begging for mercy to be a little ironic. In any case, my decision has been made. Stand up!"

Max got to his feet. He realized that he was only wearing briefs. Why, oh, why had he taken off his pants? There was no way that hed be allowed to put them back on, now. Dad was undoing his belt and pulling it out through the loops of his pants. Max noticed with dread that it was one of his thick, black leather ones. His knees were trembling as he thought of the stinging force of it impacting his butt. Even though he was tall for his age, his father was 6 2 ½" and had huge arms. He towered over Max.

Dad looked him over, as if he were sizing him up.

"That shirt wont be in the way," he remarked. Max T-shirt only came to his waist. "But the underpants are going to have to go, Im afraid."

"What? No, Dad, please! Not like that! Dont spank me baaaarrrree!" The last word became an elongated moan as Max clung forlornly to the side of his briefs as if holding them tightly would keep them from being pulled down.

"Im not changing my mind, Max," Dad said, flashing him a hard look, "Now are you going to pull them down, or do I have to do it for you? Because I will and youre only digging yourself deeper into an already deep hole."

With his trembling lower lip stuck out and tears streaming out of his eyes, Max slowly pulled down on the elastic waistband of his white briefs. All the while, he looked at Dad, trying to appear as pitiful as possible in hopes of some sort of last minute reprieve. He was turning the waistband over in his fingers, slowly rolling it over and over. He got about half of his bottom uncovered before Dad lost patience.

"For Christ sake, Max!" he said as he darted his arm out. The hairless region above Max penis had been exposed, but Dad took his underpants by the front and just tugged them down hard. In a split second they were free and fell silently down his legs, leaving him naked from the waist down. Even with the thought of the upcoming spanking overwhelming most of his mental circuits, he still found enough focus to be deeply embarrassed that Dad was looking at the one part of his anatomy that had not yet undergone a growth spurt. Still, if Dad had any thoughts about the fact that his sons penis and testicles would look more appropriate on an eight-year-old than a strapping twelve-year-old he didnt voice them.

"What you did to that other boy was cruel, Max," Dad said. "Whats about to happen to you is justice. Turn around."

Max did as he was told. He turned and faced his bed. From the wall, a poster of a sunglasses-wearing young man riding in a convertible stared back at him. The drivers carefree expression mocked him as he waited for the words. The two words that were the equivalent to the lock changing shut behind a convict. The two words that indicated that the time for talk was past and the hour of his spanking was at hand.

"Bend over," Dad said.

The low noise in Max throat got louder as he leaned forward, resting his hands on the bed. By virtue of his bodys position, his bottom was involuntarily sticking out. He heard his fathers feet shuffling as he got into position, but he refused to look between his slightly spread legs to see if he was ready yet. From the corner of his left eye, he could see the doubled-over belt start to move and he braced himself. Instead of a blazing rush of pain, he felt only a light contact and he realized that Dad had only taken a practice swing. The keening noise he was making doubled in volume. The only sound in the house was Max going, "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee."

THWAP! Faster than Max had expected, Dad had taken the first swing. A stinging strip of fire appeared on his bare bottom as the belt wrapped around the center of his plump buttocks. The force of it nearly knocked him off balance as he screamed in pain.

THWAP! Again the belt struck, slightly lower this time, but again covering both of his naked cheeks.

"OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" he screeched as the thick leather cut into his pale white skin.

THWAP! Lower again, almost to the top of his thighs.

"PLEEEEEESE!" he howled. "ITS TOO HARD!"

"No," Dad said. "Its not hard enough!"

THWAP!! Back in the center where the first blow had fallen. Max left hand darted instinctively to cover his exposed rear before he caught himself and moved it.

THWAP!! THWAP!! Each time the belt hit, going higher this time, his hand jerked backwards.

"Keep your hands...." THWAP!! "....off your ass...." THWAP!! "....when Im spanking you!" THWAP!!

Max somehow found the presence of mind to scrunch up the sheets in his hands, giving him something to do besides reach for his blazing buns. Again and again the belt fell, igniting fresh strips of burning agony on his plump bare bottom. Every nerve between his rear and his brain carried only one message. Pain! Blazing, stinging, burning Pain!

Dad has slowed down slightly and Max hoped that the agony was over but he realized that he was pausing to give him some extra hard spanks.

THWAP!!! "OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"

THWAP!!!! "OOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THWAP!!!!!! "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

This last blow, right in the middle of his beaten bottom, caused Max to fall forward against the bed. No longer able to hold back, he rubbed his bottom with both hands, trying franticly to put out the boiling fire. He no longer cared about anything other than reducing the pain in his rear.

"Rub your ass if you must, Max, but stand up!" Dad told him. Somehow, Max got to his feet, his hands behind him going a mile a minute as they massaged his naked cheeks.

"I dont expect you to be in any shape to listen to me now," he said as he re-threaded the belt into his pants, "but I want to see you in my room in fifteen minutes. No later."

He turned and went out the door. For about sixty seconds, Max did nothing but soothe his hot bottom and try to get his crying under control. He turned to look at himself in the mirror and found he was facing the wrong way. Not only that, but his little penis was actually hard. It jutted out from his hairless crotch, about three inches of stiff boyhood perpendicular to his body and bouncing as he rubbed his ass. What had caused that? The spanking? The rubbing? Had Dad seen it? He probably had, but Max found he didnt care. It wasnt any more embarrassing than being spanked bare-bottomed and crying like a baby. He turned and looked at his bottom. Instead of a pale white, it was a deep, angry red. Nothing that looked like a bruise, just a glowing, crimson ass. He stood there feeling miserable and looking at the results of his actions until he realized that he was supposed to go and talk to Dad. How long had it been? At least ten minutes to be sure. Dad would be timing it and if he was late....well, he didnt want to find out.

He reached for his briefs and pulled them up. The tight fabric caused a fresh wave of pain and he pulled them back off. Where were his pajama bottoms? This drawer? No, must be in the laundry room. No time, no time! He opened his door, planning to go look for them, but saw his parents bedroom door open. It wasnt worth the risk. He turned and walked toward the open door, his hands at his sides and his head down. If Dad was surprised to see him still naked from the waist down, he didnt show it.

"Sit here, Max," he said, patting the side of his bed as he put down a book hed been reading. Max sat, grateful for the soft seat hed been offered.

"When I said I was ashamed of you, Max, I meant it. However, no one goes through life without making mistakes. Id like to think that behavior wasnt typical of you, but whats done is done. What is important now is that you dont ever do anything like that again. You will return that boys property to him tomorrow morning personally. You will apologize to him. Furthermore, you are now his guardian angel. You dont have to be friends with him, but you will prevent your friends from picking on him. I know that adults wont always be around, but keep in mind that if I ever hear of you behaving like this again, not only will you receive another spanking like this one, but also, I will be bitterly disappointed in you. Please think about that, okay?"

Dad put his arm over Max shoulder and hugged him tight.

"Im sorry Dad, I wont do it again," he whispered. Dad held him for a few more minutes before letting him go.

"Go to bed, son, the others will be coming home soon," he suggested. Max got up and went to his room. He crawled under the covers, deciding that the prudent thing to do was sleep bottomless. Emotionally drained, he was asleep in ten minutes. In the morning, he got up and met the school bus. He found that Clayton was on it, sitting in the back. Forgoing his usual seat in the front, he went back and took the empty seat next to the smaller boy. Clayton looked like he was ready to bolt out the window.

"This is yours," he said in a low voice, handing him the CD player. Warily, the other boy took it.

"Thats a cool CD," he said, trying to put him at ease. "I like Jimmy Eat World."

Clayton still didnt say anything, trying to figure out if he was in any danger.

"Im sorry about yesterday," Max said, turning and facing him while trying to keep his voice low enough to prevent anybody else from hearing. He didnt like to apologize and didnt want the whole school to be talking about it. "That was mean, how we carried on. I wont do anything like that again."

"Okay," Clayton said, speaking for the first time. He put his player up and looked ahead. Max couldnt think of much else to say. He didnt really want to be friends with this boy, but moving would only draw attention that he didnt want. Alan and Jim came on the bus together and seeing Max next to Clayton, drew the wrong conclusion. They came back as well, prepared to hassled the new kid, but Max stiff-armed Alan when he went to flick the other boy on his ear.

"Leave him be," he said. "He likes Jimmy Eat World, so hes okay."

"Jimmy Eat World sucks," Alan said, a little resentful that Max had shut him down, but not prepared to make an issue of it. The three of them started talking and managed to ignore Clayton, who put on his headphones. Later that day, Max casually questioned his two buddies to make sure theyd left him alone, but they had. As the days became weeks, he noticed Clayton making friends and was able to relax his guard. He also noticed that without him to lead them, Alan and Jim became much less aggressive. Having looked in a mirror and not liking much what he saw, Max reformed himself and never picked on a smaller kid again.

The End


More stories by Eric Blyton