Uncle Ernie

Ernie was probably everyone’s idea of an avuncular uncle. He had blue eyes that twinkled when he was happy and he loved to smile. He looked kindly too. His thinning hair, which was Brylcreemed across his dome, and his neatly clipped moustache made him look a little older than his forty-four years. So did the way he dressed. He almost always wore a dark suit with an acrylic pullover underneath and he was never without a shirt with a proper collar and a tie.

Yes, he was loved by all. Most of the time. Uncle Ernie’s nephews and nieces sometimes had cause to think otherwise. Ernie was part of a large extended family. Jobs were scarce in his community, but the oil industry was booming. So, just about every able-bodied man in the family worked on the rigs. That meant they were away from home a lot; often for weeks, or months on end, leaving their wives and children alone.

It could be difficult for mums on their own to keep their children disciplined. That’s where Uncle Ernie came in. When the kids needed a damn good spanking they sent for Uncle Ernie. The absent menfolk were all for it, and they made sure everyone knew it. Their kids were told, “When Uncle Ernie tells you to bend over his knee; then over his knee you jolly well go.”

They did too. As much as anything it was in fear of copping much worse from their dad when he came home.

Uncle Ernie had a prized hairbrush. He used it every day for its primary purpose – keeping his thinning locks in place to disguise his baldness. But, it had a secondary use as well. The heavy oval shaped head would leave a pair of naughty buttocks glowing scarlet when applied with some vigour across naked flesh.

Uncle Ernie had no wife or children of his own, but he didn’t mind being a surrogate father to the other children. After all, he would say if asked; what were families for?

One day, he got a call from his sister Liz. Would Ernie please deal with her son Gary? Ernie was surprised, and possibly a little shocked at the request. Gary was her only child and was one of the great success stories of the family. He was well behaved, cooperative and very polite. He studied hard at school and passed his exams and went on to the sixth-form. He would take his A-levels in a few months’ time and the school expected him to ace them. Then, he would go to university. He would be the first kid ever in the whole family to go to university and everyone was so proud of him.

So, Uncle Ernie wondered, what was the problem?

Gary had just turned eighteen: that was the problem. It was as if someone had pressed a switch in Gary’s head on his eighteenth birthday. He had undergone a complete personality transplant. Now, the kind, polite little boy had become arrogant and haughty. He argued with people all the time. He disrespected his mother. He was lazy and uncooperative. More than once, he had told his mother she couldn’t boss him around.

He was, he told her right out more than once, an adult now. He was not a kid anymore. She needed to know that.

“He needs taking down a peg or two,” Uncle Ernie said. There was more to being an adult than turning eighteen. Gary still had a lot to learn, and Uncle Ernie and his heavy wooden hairbrush would teach him the first lesson.

Liz wanted Gary to be spanked, but she didn’t want to be there when it happened. After all, she still thought of him as her little darling. So, she gave Uncle Ernie the key to her house and one Friday evening when she went to her regular bingo session, he paid Gary an unexpected call.

It was a little after seven o’clock. Liz was safely out of the way and Uncle Erne had been told Gary usually went to the pub with his mates about nine on a Friday. There would be plenty of time to do the deed.

Uncle Ernie saw a light on in Gary’s bedroom as he approached the house and let himself in. He was surprised how quiet it was. Liz had said one of the problems was that the teenager played his music at a million decibels and she couldn’t hear herself think most of the time.

“Gary! Are you in!” he called from the bottom of the stairs. There was no response so Uncle Ernie made his way slowly up the stairs.

In his room, Gary lay on his back on the bed, his chino trousers and his crisp yellow underpants were at his knees. Propped against his pillow was a pornographic magazine. He closed his eyes tightly, imagining that the old geezer in the picture had Gary and not the nubile sixth-form schoolgirl across his knees for a bare-arsed spanking.

Gary’s palm was smeared with Johnson’s Baby Oil and he gently rubbed it up and down his erect shaft. The cock tingled with delight; but he was a long way off ejaculating.

“Gary!” Uncle Ernie knocked on the bedroom door and not waiting for a response, he pushed to open it. It moved an inch or so, but wouldn’t budge further. Something inside the room was preventing it opening.

Uncle Ernie stood back. His blue eyes twinkled and his face split with a broad grin. He knew what was going on. He used to do the exact same thing himself. Gary had blocked the door in case someone came in while he was masturbating. “He’s tossing off,” Uncle Ernie told himself. “What’s the harm? He is eighteen after all.” Then he laughed to himself, “He’s spanking it. Well, in a moment he’ll be getting a spanking of a quite different kind.”

Inside the room a mortified Gary pulled his trousers and pants up. “Wait a minute Uncle!” he yelled as he stuffed the magazine and oil into the bedside drawer.

Moments later, he opened the door. “Hello Uncle Ernie,” Gary tried to be breezy and cheerful. Uncle Ernie grinned back. It was a grin that cheekily sang, “I know what you’re do-ing!” Gary hoped he wasn’t blushing.

“Gary,” Uncle Ernie wasn’t going to beat about the bush. He got right down to it. “Your mother is worried about your behaviour. She wanted me to have a word.”

Gary’s dark brown eyes blazed. He was certain he was blushing now. Uncle Ernie’s role in the family was well known. Having “a word” could mean only one thing.

Uncle Ernie had prepared a list of Gary’s wrong-doings. He was lazy, indolent, insolent, disrespectful, haughty and self-important. “You are a thoroughly nasty boy,” Uncle Ernie concluded.

“Yes, I know. I’m sorry,” Gary had true remorse. He loved his mother, he knew she worked all the hours there were to ensure he could stay on at school and then go to university. “She doesn’t deserve to be treated this way by me,” he said.

Uncle Ernie was rocked. He had come prepared for an argument. A fight, even. Literally, if the boy resisted being taking across his knee. Instead, this rather charming young man was pouring his heart out. He said he had let himself and his mother down. He was truly, deeply, sorry.

Uncle Ernie gazed intently into Gary’s face. Was the boy sincere? Or was he so intelligent that he had worked out the way to avoid a skelping was to own up and apologise? Uncle Ernie didn’t know. What he did know was that he had promised Gary’s mother he would give the lad a damn good spanking. And that was precisely what he intended to do.

“You deserve a good spanking,” Uncle Ernie said.

“Yes, I do.” Gary’s heart thumped through his chest. He couldn’t believe he had just said that.

“Yes, you do.” Uncle Ernie repeated. He was at a loss for words. Usually those he was about to spank pleaded for forgiveness and promised all kinds of improved behaviour, if only he would not take them across his knees and batter their bare bum with his brush.

An uneasy silence fell in the room. Gary’s breathing was shallow. His blood pressure had risen. Uncle Ernie was about to spank him. He thought of the porn mag in his bedside drawer. All the characters in the stories and pictures who did the spanking were elderly men, just like Uncle Ernie. He yearned to be taken across the knees of any one of them. Now, here in his own bedroom, it was going to happen to him. For real.

Uncle Ernie reached into his suit jacket pocket and withdrew the brush. Then, he sat himself down on the edge of Gary’s bed. The eighteen-year-old standing before him was blushing to his roots. “Good,” Uncle Ernie thought, “He feels utterly humiliated. He needs to be shamed. This will take him down a peg or two.”

Gary stared at the heavy wooden brush in his uncle’s hand. Soon, the elderly man would demand he take down his trousers. Gary felt his cock twitch. “Good God! I hope I don’t get a boner!”

“Come Gary. Take down your trousers and bend over my knee.” Uncle Ernie said, and then as if justifying what would happen in the following few minutes to himself, he added, “You know you deserve it.”

He stood uncertain. This was to be his dream come true. He gazed at his uncle’s legs. There were razor sharp creases on his trousers. Uncle Ernie misunderstood Gary’s hesitation. Suddenly, the teenager felt himself being partly, but quickly, disrobed, as his uncle unbelted, unsnapped, and unzipped the youth’s chinos and tugged them down to his feet. Placing his strong hands halfway around the lean, bony waist of his nephew, Uncle Ernie lifted the young man and toppled him downward, across his lap.

Gary’s chest and face sank into the mattress and his legs stretched out behind him, his toes hovered an inch or so off the carpet. His backside was raised at an angle over his uncle’s knees. “I’m not even going to bother with these,” Uncle Ernie growled as he gripped the waistband of Gary’s bright yellow briefs then with two firm tugs the boy’s bottom was bared.

Gary sensed the heavy wooden brush hovering over his bare bum and then something flat, hard, burning, stinging, and painful made repeated contact with his naked rump and thighs, especially on the sensitive under-curves of his cheeks. His bottom jogged up and down with the slapping of the big, heavy brush. Flames lapped around his bum as the spanking continued.

From the very first smack Gary knew his uncle meant business. The sting in his backside was astonishing. Gary could not see – his face was buried in the duvet on the bed – his Uncle Ernie raise his hand as high as it would go before crashing the brush down at terrific force into his nephew’s meaty bum. This was no “love-tap,” it was an honest to goodness punishment spanking and probably the harshest that Uncle Ernie had ever delivered.

It went on for close to five minutes. Gary was exhausted. Each slap hurt more than the last. He wriggled then pulled, then jumped up and down, and side to side, trying to avoid the stinging hairbrush. Uncle Ernie pressed his left arm into Gary’s shoulders, pinning the boy. He was going nowhere; not until his uncle said so.

The heat of the bare-bottomed spanking travelled from the buttocks and up and down Gary’s legs. The pain was intense as each successive slap connected with his flesh. The pain disappeared almost immediately the brush moved off his bum only to be replaced by more pain as the next crack hit its target.

Then it was over. Suddenly, the spanking stopped. Uncle Ernie released his grip on Gary’s shoulders and the boy rolled off his uncle’s lap and landed on the carpet. The teenager’s cock and balls were on full display. Uncle Ernie professed not to notice. Gary’s cock was semi-erect; his soldier was on the march. He pulled up his underpants and stood up so he could return his trousers to their rightful place.

Uncle Ernie stood himself and put the brush back in his pocket. He looked immaculately dressed. A stranger could not tell that over the past five minutes or so he had delivered to Gary the spanking of his lifetime. Not one hair on his head was out of place. No perspiration dampened his body.

“Please know Gary that if your mother has cause to complain about your behaviour in future I will not hesitate to offer you a repeat performance,” Uncle Ernie said rather pompously.

Gary nodded that he understood. Then, Uncle Ernie left the room leaving the teenager hugging his burning backside. Gary waited until he heard the front door close before he reached into the bedside drawer for the Johnson’s Baby Oil.

 

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Duncan and Uncle Henry

The smiling boy

 

 

More stories from Charles Hamilton II are on the MMSA website

 

Charles Hamilton the Second

charleshamiltonthesecond@gmail.com