The Fish That Had the Last Laugh On My Brother


by Slipperpal <Slipperpal@aol.com>

My brother Pete who is a year younger than I, has always been fairly close and has much the same traits as I. Because we did so many things together, he learned much from me, good and bad. That included learning from my achievements and mistakes regarding dealing with mom and dad. Because I was a year older and effectively led the way, I would usually end up taking the lumps and he would learn where to avoid the bumps so to speak. After my ordeal with our dads stick (first story) he pretty much learned how to avoid a serious go around with it himself. He also learned and managed to wear a little extra clothing on the one occasion when he did have to deal with a light confrontation with it

One late summer afternoon Pete, then fifteen and I were out on the ocean with our dad in a friends fishing boat. The thing was 30 feet long with a nice cabin and fishing deck. It didn't take dad long to warn us not to mess up the boat in anyway. After all, it was some nice that dads friend allowed us to borrow the boat What a boat.

My brother and I were wearing a T shirt, Bermuda shorts and our swimsuits underneath. We put on some suntan lotion all over our exposed face, neck, arms and legs and began to fish the afternoon away. It was hot and bright out so it wasn't long before we took off our shorts and fished in our short cotton swim trunks with an inner tie that fit fairly snuggly.

As we got near then end of the afternoon, it began to get cooler so we put our Bermuda shorts back on. Soon it got cooler still so we headed back into the inlet during which time Pete put on a pair of wrangler jeans and I a pair of Levi's and we both of us put on flannel shirts.

We stopped and anchored and dad began to prepare some of the fish for dinner that we has caught. It wasn't long before Pete and I were chasing each other around the boat. Our dad warned us once to stop. We though were teenagers that had been cooped up in a relatively small area all afternoon and were full of energy. I cooled it a bit, as a result of being a little older and wiser I suppose. Soon my brother picked up one of the fish. The fish still wasn't dead yet, and threw it at me. It landed in the cabin, upchucked the bate and smeared its blood around. Our dad soon spouted out some words that we didn't know he knew. Before Pete got more than a few words out of his mouth, my dad had him in the cabin and told him to take off his jeans.

Pete refused. I am sure he was trying to keep on the protection of the jeans, shorts and swimsuit considering he knew he was in for a real butt warming by Dad...and Dad had big hands. Soon Dad tried to unbutton Pete's jeans. Pete suddenly managed to flip over on his stomach. I had to smile a little, thinking about how my brother flipped himself over to stop Dad from unbuttoning his jeans but now was in a bent over position over the dinette seat. The little bugger still managed top keep his jeans on though. I also thought that my brother must be happy that the stick was safely at home.

Suddenly my Dad grabbed the back of Pete's Wranglers and pulled. You could hear the zipper sliding down as the waistband pulled away. His Wranglers were then slid down to his ankles. Dad must have been able to unbutton the jean's button before Pete flipped over. The zipper tab on Wranglers, unlike Levi's or Lee's, when flipped up will allows the zipper to pull down...and that is exactly what happened.

In no time our Dad was going after Pete's shorts. They had elastic on the back and a snap closure on the front. In no time, the snap snapped open, the zipper went down and the shorts went down.

Dad had Pete's right arm behind his back Dad tried to pull the swim suit down, but it didn't budge. I guess it was tied well. Dad looked as if he were ready to let Pete have it with his hand. What I saw next shock the you know what out of me. Dad grabbed the fish scaling board on the counter next to him. It was a half inch thick maple board about 15 inches long and six inches wide with ridges cut long ways into the wood. It was shaped just like a paddle.

Pete expected to be slapped with Dad's big hand, but I knew differently. My brother was about to experience a burn like nothing he experienced before. SLAP! The board landed right in the middle of his left cheek. It took no time before he cried out, as the thin sheeting of the swimsuit was no match for such a paddle. The fact that he was wearing a jock instead of underwear was certainly a detriment to him as well. SLAP! This shot landed lower on the ass cheek. Since Pete was in a bent over position, his snug swim trunks came just to where his ass cheek met his thigh. This last shot and about five after it landed so that most of the paddle landed on the ass area covered by swim trunks. The last inch and a half or more of the fish board paddle landed below the leg opening of the swim trunks, right on the tender upper thigh area. To make matters far worse, Pete and I had put on the sun tan screen BEFORE taking off our Bermuda shorts. With the shorts off later in the afternoon we both got a bad sunburn on four or five inches of our upper thigh. When that paddle landed on my brother's sunburned upperthigh, I thought he was going to scream out of his skin.

When my father was done, he looked at me and said, "You want to be next?"

My butt twinged and I got that funny feeling in my groin. I could just imagine the feeling of that paddle hitting the sunburned surface of my upper legs. Quickly and quietly I said I'd like to pass on it and began to clean the fish mess up as my brother lay crying on the floor.

Later, my brother slipped his swim suit down and showed me the results of his experience with the fish cleaning board. He had long red ridges on the left cheek of his ass. They looked mean and still full of heat. They still didn't match the fierce look of his upper thighs though. When I placed a couple of my fingers on his upper thigh he winced in a hurry and I could feel an inordinate amount of heat. The sun and the paddle had certainly worked well in getting my dads point across.

This time Pete had done the learning for both of us. This was one lesson we hope neither of us ever had to learn again.


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