Act Your Age Ch 08: Swatted

Shane, a directionless 20 year old living with his parents and attending community college, is sitting on his porch one lazy day when he spots Grant a new next door neighbor.  Grant is handsome, older, and successful.  Shane is attracted to the older man, wants to start a relationship but Grant has just gotten out of a long-term relationship with a man and isn’t ready for commitment.  

Worse, he sees Shane as too young, too impulsive, and misbehaved, but when Shane won’t give up Grant challenges him to a little discipline.


After the spanking session that night and the next day was cleaner living.  I woke up, had two cigarettes, did all of my reading while on my stomach through the day, and wrote my papers that evening.  I kept trying to think of items to add to the list but somehow I was satisfied, or at least I thought everyone else was satisfied by the rest of my life so I couldn’t really come up with anymore.  The fact that I only had seven made me dread Monday when I would give it to Mr. Grant.  Would there be a penalty for not thinking of more? 

I took a picture of my backside in the mirror with my phone.  It barely looked like anything had been done to it.  It was a strange thing to have on my phone.  If I took a selfie then I usually posted it somewhere, shared it with someone, but instead it was a very private image.  Not just that it was my ass but the act itself.  I had been spanked.  Who would tell someone that these days?  Who would tell someone it was what they needed?

Somehow Sunday, and even early Monday morning I managed to block my meeting with Mr. Grant out of my head.  Though really I usually did that.  I could not think about something until hours before it was about to happen, that’s when I felt the worst.  Those last moments to kill before something was about to happen, especially when punctuality was important.  It almost felt like a waste of time because whatever it was I was usually distracting myself before it happened. 

Thankfully I didn’t have class that day, though I did worry about the next day if I got another spanking.  I would have to sit through those lectures on a wooden chair.  The worst was the auditorium where the seat curved right at the thighs.  In order to distract myself I played video games and watched television all day.  My only sins were two cigarettes in the morning to wake me up and a beer with lunch, in part because it was what I usually did and in part because my parents were out of the house. 

I had also kept watch over his place.  I hadn’t seen him leave in the morning but I saw that his car was gone.  When I thought I heard his car door close I checked to make sure it was him.  I saw him dressed in a suit and tie.  It was almost six o’clock, hours before our meeting.  It was then that I realized my parents would be back before it was convenient to leave so I decided to take a walk around the block.  Time didn’t pass easily that last hour.  I kept looking at my phone every ten minutes trying to estimate just the right time to get there.  It’s like going to the doctor’s office, I told myself as I walked to his front door.

When he answered the door he was dressed semi-casual, not the suit and tie I had seen earlier.  He had a five o’clock shadow and he smelled of soap.  His hair was loose and I realized he had showered recently.  He looked me in the eye.  This is it, I thought.  I was scared but excited at the same time.  I was anxious yet worried as I could remember the last, initial spanking.  He opened the door and invited me inside. 

“How are you today?” he asked.

“I’m good,” I said.  I had forgotten something, the word stuck in my throat.

“Did you make up that list?”

I cleared my throat.

“Uh, yes sir, I made up the list.”

“Where is it?”

“It’s on my phone,” I answered.

He was still behind me and I couldn’t judge his reaction but suddenly leaving the list on my phone felt ridiculous.  I knew I should have printed it out.  How could I have been so careless?

“We’ll talk about it after,” he said.  “Are you worried?”

“Yes sir,” I said.

“You know every bad thing you’ve done.  You know every area in your life you need to improve.  This punishment will clear the record in some way.  Tonight it’s like you will be born again with a new skin.  It should be a transformative experience, one that will stay with you for days, a week, and the rest of your life.”  I thought about the expression, ‘you won’t be able to sit down for a month’ and how I barely ever heard it.  “Your last tanning should be wearing off by now.  Tonight’s will be much more severe.”

He moved in front of me, took my cane from my hand and placed it by the door.  That made me stand up straight.  I closed my eyes for only a moment but he was back in front of me.  I reached for my belt but he stopped me, took hold of the buckle himself and undid it but he didn’t unfasten my shorts or pull them down right away like I thought he would.  He took me over his knee with my shorts still up.  He swatted at my ass, at the fabric, several times with his hand making me realize just how strong he was, just how intense and committed he could be.  I felt the swats but they didn’t register to my brain right away.  Instead I thought about the sound and it amused me.  It was like he was beating a carpet or something, some chore a maid did.

It wasn’t until he stopped and I knew what was coming next that it all felt real.  He pulled at the rear of my shorts, worked them down slowly so that my underwear didn’t go with them.  And when they hit the floor, I felt them sunk around my ankles, I knew the fun was over.  He straightened my boxers a little before he swung.  The right cheek first, then the left, back and forth he worked me in a rhythm as I felt the pain radiating out from my ass with each blow until I felt it in the tips of my fingers and the tips of my toes, up my neck to my face, my scalp.  I balled my fists and pressed my feet against the floor.  I didn’t want to show weakness.  I didn’t want to show I felt pain.  But it was there.  I felt it.  The pain was throughout my body.

He spanked me with my underwear on for several minutes before he stopped.  I inhaled deeply before I collapsed over his knee, let my arms fall down to the legs of the chair, my head loose, my hair loose.  He pulled at my boxers and I grabbed at the chair legs, felt their wooden, square reality.  I wouldn’t be able to move them.  I wouldn’t be able to reshape them or brake them no matter how hard I tried.  My boxers slid down my thighs to my ankles just like my shorts.  I was effectively, actually, naked.

That was when I felt his hand on my right cheek again.  He went from one to the other at first, then he took turns giving several swats to one, several to the other, and eventually he worked into a rhythm until I cried out and kicked my feet.  I let go of the chair and reached back to cover my ass, to knock his hand away, grab at it maybe, anything to stop what was happening but he was quick.  He pinned my arm easily and continued.  I cried.  I balled and wailed.

Snot ran from my nose, everything was leaving me.  My dignity and my pride, my innocence and my rudeness, the air from my lungs.  I was heavy on his lap but I also knew I was safe.  He would never belittle me for this.  He would never shame me for this.  It was a punishment for all that I had done.  He was breaking me so that he could rebuild me.  I was being humbled.

He stopped as I reached this point and he let me go so that I could sink from his lap to my knees, lean against his thigh where I cried into the fabric of his pants.  He took hold of the back of my head, rubbed at my skin, ran his fingers through my hair.

“We’re not done,” he said.

I looked up to him with what I was sure was blood shot eyes, tears ran down my face.  I sat back against my feet and felt a sting in my ass cheeks like I had never felt before.  I was exposed to him, my genitals there for him to see.  I wanted him to take pity on me.  I wanted him to comfort me.  He continued to rub at my head, his arm a strange and firm connection between us.

“It’s time for you to go stand in the corner.  Then I’m going to have to spank you again.  We’re only half done,” he said.

“Half?” I asked.

He pulled me to him, leaned down, and kissed my head before he told me to get to my feet and go stand in the corner.  It was another thing that I had never actually done before but I got to my feet, my legs were weak and felt like they would give out on me but they didn’t.  I made my way to the wall, the corner where he said, and stood there.  He got up and walked to me.  He placed a hand on my ass and told me it felt like a furnace.  I smiled.

“Nose in the corner,” he said.  “If you don’t do it properly I will add more to the spanking.”

I pressed my nose as close as I could.  I didn’t want to add to my spanking.
He walked away from me and I heard him leave the room.  I thought for a moment to relax but since I couldn’t tell when he was back or watching me I thought better of the idea and didn’t.  I held myself there even as I heard him walk back into the room and to me.  He told me to pull my nose away from the corner and open my mouth which I did.  He stuck a bar of soap inside and told me to bite down.

I suddenly remembered my neighbors being punished like this when they were younger, when I was younger.  Their mother would stick a bar of soap in their mouths.  They told me how they had figured a way out of it by biting down with their molars so that the soap didn’t get on their tongue.  They got away with it for a long time until in a fit of anger I told on them to their mother.  She made sure to wet it before she stuck it in their mouths.  I didn’t want a wet bar but I didn’t want to suffer.  I didn’t like the taste of it but I felt compelled to live up to the punishment.  I held it there as best I could without actually tasting it.  It barely worked.

Fortunately he didn’t make me do it for long.  Unfortunately that meant I was back over his knee and that he had gotten some tools to help.  He showed me the small paddle first but I could see the bath brush on the bed not far from his thigh.  The paddle was quick and at first I didn’t feel it.  It took a moment to register before I was yelling and squirming against him.  He took hold of my arm, pinned it again before he continued.

My feet were another matter but as much as I wanted to kick out I knew it wouldn’t help and somehow there was more comfort by setting them against the floor, holding them there until sensation relocated from my ass to my feet.  I thought I had beaten the punishment somehow and even though I felt guilty it didn’t stop me.

That was when he struck my thighs for the first time.  Not hard but just enough to make me feel something else.  He told me I was making too much noise and that I was supposed to take my punishment like a man.  I held my breath and readied myself for a torrent of blows but he stopped and set the paddle on bed.  I felt his hand on my ass.

“It’s really turning red.  I like nice red cheeks on a boy,” he said.  “How does it feel?”

There was nothing I could say.  I sunk back over his knee, let go of myself and he released my arm so I let it fall down and I grabbed at the chair again.  I knew he wasn’t going to spank me right away but I wasn’t comfortable either.  I realized where I was in space and time, a firm, inescapable reality.

I was over a man’s lap, naked, being spanked, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.  I could resist but I couldn’t stop him.  I could tell him I wanted to quit and he would let me but I felt like I would be getting out of something I started, a kind of promise I had made.  I wanted to be better.  I wanted to do better.  I wanted what he said he could give me.  I wanted all of it.

He rubbed and grabbed at my ass, manipulated sensation and blood flow back into the skin.  I caught my breath for once.  It was over, I thought.  But then I remembered the brush at his side.  It wasn’t over.  He had one more tool.  Unless maybe if I talked him out of it, convinced him I had learned my lesson.

“I’m sorry,” I said.  “I’ve been acting like a jerk.  I’ve been entitled all of my life, spoiled and privileged and I wasted it.  I’m sorry and I want to do better.  I want to be a better person.”

He pulled me from his lap to my knees.  We looked each other in the eyes.  I felt as if I had gotten through to him.  I had convinced him.  He was going to take pity on me.  I smiled.  But he didn’t smile back.

“Get up and lay face down on the bed.  We’re almost done.”

I got to my feet again, wiped at my nose with my forearm.  I stepped to the bed, got on with my knees first then face down.  I felt the comforter against my whole body, including my dick and balls.  It felt great.  I was lost for a moment until I felt him grab hold of my ankle and reposition me.  He picked up the brush.  It was harder than anything prior, more painful, painful enough to pierce the dullness of my skin and make me scream out.  He swatted me several times before he stopped.

“Will you behave yourself young man?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“What was that?”

I thought for a moment he would spank me and I cringed.

“Yes sir,” I blurted out.

“Good boy, now come here.”

I pushed myself up as he sat on the bed and he directed me to his lap where I let my head fall against his thigh.  He brushed his fingers through my hair.

“Do you promise to try and be a good boy from now on?  Do you promise to obey the rules and agree to take any punishment I decide?”

“Yes sir,” I said.

“Is it okay if you spend the night?” he asked.

“Yes sir,” I said.

My ass was aflame.  I could feel my heartbeat in each cheek.  It felt as if it were the center of my body and little cracks radiated out, up my back and down my legs.

“Time for a bath,” he said.  “Then I’ll get you dressed for bed.”

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7

Act Your Age: Swimwear

Shane, a directionless 20 year old living with his parents and attending community college, is sitting on his porch one lazy day when he spots Grant a new next door neighbor.  Grant is handsome, older, and successful.  Shane is attracted to the older man, wants to start a relationship but Grant has just gotten out of a long-term relationship with a man and isn’t ready for commitment.  


Worse, he sees Shane as too young, too impulsive, and misbehaved, but when Shane won’t give up Grant challenges him to a little discipline.


Grant and I had been going to the gym pretty regularly when one day before we got changed to workout he led me over to the inside window where you could see the pool.  I looked over the people swimming.  There weren’t many people, a few teen boys, an old woman, and an elderly man with a lifeguard watching over them.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“What?”

“Going swimming,” he said.

I looked to him and could see he had a mischievous intent.

“I don’t have my swimsuit and I don’t think they’d let me swim in my workout clothes or naked.”

“I brought you one,” he said.

“Really?”

“Come on,” he said.

I followed him to the locker room.  I thought to ask for the suit right away but didn’t want to seem too eager, too worried and looking for comfort of some kind.  I opened a locker next to his and began to undress as he did until we were both down to our undies.  He pulled off the last article of clothing as he often did and set them in his locker, looked to me and I winced.  He pulled out a pair of swim trunks and I caught my breath for a moment before he lowered them down to his feet and stepped into them.

I watched as he pulled them up over his ass and cock.  He adjusted himself.  I waited patiently in my briefs as I felt more men looking at me standing there.  He gestured with his eyebrows.  He was waiting for me.  I took off my briefs and set them in my locker before closing the door and locking it.  He smiled, lifted something.

My chest tightened when I saw the swimsuit in his hand.  I smiled nervously and felt the cheeks of my face warm.  It wasn’t swim trunks or even shorts but something smaller, much like the briefs I had just taken off.  He handed them over to me and I looked at them for a moment, to figure out front from back before I stepped into them.  They were tight.  I pulled them over my thighs and adjusted myself in the crotch as he watched me.  He grinned at the sight.

I felt more exposed than when I was naked.  And I was supposed to go swimming in these?  I was supposed to go out in public?  I thought about the strangers out there I had seen in the water.  I thought about the lifeguard.  I thought to ask if it was a joke.  I thought to ask for my real suit but he closed his locker door and I knew the answer to my questions.  It was real.  I was supposed to wear it.  And everyone would see me.  I thought about Olympians and swimmers, athletes in high school and college.  I was none of those.  I could barely swim.

“Come on,” he said.

I walked with him out the entrance to the pool area.  I felt as if I had walked into a party naked.  The teens looked at me and snickered.  The lifeguard nodded.  I wanted to turn around but he moved more quickly as he stepped to the pool side, sat, and slid into the water.  I did the same as quickly as I could hoping the water would help disguise my revealing suit.  He turned to me.

“First one there and back,” he said before turning into the water and swimming away.

I watched him but there was little I could do.  I knew enough to stay afloat.  I couldn’t do a breast stroke or any other movement to compete.  What would he say when he got back?  He hadn’t asked me if I could swim.  I just liked being in the water, barely ever ventured out of the shallow end.  I looked to the guard who smiled back then to the end of the pool where Grant tagged the wall and turned.  I watched as he made his way past me and stood.  He shook off the water and looked to me.

“Why didn’t you race me?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“I’m not much for competition,” I lied.

“Do you know how to swim?” he asked.

“Not really,” I said.  “I can keep my head above water.”

“I didn’t know.  No problem, this is a good time, I can show you how.”