Max, Jordan and Danny had shared an apartment for three weeks and things were not going well. They were first-year students and the university had put them together in one of their properties. Max was 24 and had flunked school and spent the past five years working on building sites while attending night school to get his life back on track. Jordan and Danny had just left school, they came from comfortable homes and saw attending university as an entitlement.
Max knew it was none of his business that both eighteen-year-olds kept their rooms like pigsties, but he did object when they left the kitchen, bathroom and living room in the same state. Most of all, he objected to them coming back at three in the morning drunk or high after a long night partying, when Max had been stuck into his books. They always woke him with their noise.
Jordan and Danny were immature. They knew nothing of the world. Max remembered all the mistakes he had made at their age and how much he would have benefited from a guiding hand from a mature mentor. If they didn’t knuckle down to some studying soon, they would flunk the mid-term exams and be on that slippery slope to failure.
Max wasn’t sure exactly what put the idea into his head, but once it was there it could not be dislodged. One Saturday lunchtime as the pair emerged bleary eyed from their separate beds after another night of wild partying (and once more waking Max at three in the morning) Max made his declaration. ‘Enough. It stops here. If you come home in the early hours again and wake me up, then ….’ He hesitated, because he couldn’t quite believe what he was about to say, ‘then,’ he continued, ‘I’m going to give you a damn good spanking. And I mean it.’
Jordan and Danny heard him loud and clear, but said nothing. Jordan murmured an embarrassed giggle and the red glow on Danny’s face betrayed his unspoken thoughts.
No more was said until the following Thursday. Wednesday was the cheap-night for students at the pubs and bars of Brocklehurst and Jordan took full advantage. Danny had gone back to his parents’ home for the weekend to get his laundry done.
Max checked the time on his phone as he was woken from his slumbers. Nearly four o’clock; a record in lateness for the pair. He turned over, put a pillow against his ear and tried to get back to sleep. Next morning Max had a lecture at nine so he left Jordan stinking in his pit. During the morning he could not get the threat he had made from out of his mind, it was disturbing his thoughts and he found it difficult to concentrate in his classes. At midday, he had two hours free, so he hopped on the bus and returned to the apartment. It was a scorching hot late summer day (global warming, no doubt) and Max wore just a singlet and Nike sport shorts
He was not surprised to see Jordan slumped on the couch watching a women’s programme on television. He did not acknowledge Max as he come in and put his backpack on the floor. Max stood, his feet planted a metre or so apart and with hands on hips, he glared at his roommate.
‘Four o’clock,’ he scolded, ‘You got in a four this morning and woke me up. Again.’
Jordan only half listened. He was staring at the television, but not really watching; the thumping in his head was too much to bear. He didn’t hear Max’s question so Max repeated it.
‘What did I say would happen if you woke me up in the middle of the night again?’ Jordan grunted his incomprehension. Max’s anger rose. ‘I said, I’d give you a spanking. That’s what I said and that’s what I’m going to do. Stand up!’
Jordan shifted uncomfortably on the couch and turned his head away from Max. ‘You were joking, right? We never thought you were serious.’
‘Doh!’ Max swore, ‘Come here.’ Without further words he gripped Jordan by the wrist and pulled him to his feet. The eighteen-year-old struggled, but he was no match for an older, bigger man who had developed his muscles with five years’ worth of manual labour. Max sat down on the couch and in one swift continuous move he let go of Jordan’s wrist and twisted the boy so that he fell face-down across his lap with his body resting on the seat’s cushion and his bottom positioned at an angle over Max’s knee.
Jordan wore a t-shirt and underpants. Max had never noticed the teenager’s bottom before, but now he had a close-up view he saw how round and meaty it was. It was a backside crying out to be spanked and that was exactly what Max intended to do. Jordan had other ideas. He had been caught unawares and now found himself face down on the couch across the lap of his older roommate. Max wrapped one arm around Jordan’s middle to try to keep him in place. Jordan was having none of it. He twisted his hips and kicked out his legs while at the same time trying to reach his hand back to protect his bottom. Max held him tightly and let him wriggle and writhe. The boy was going nowhere, but he was making it difficult for Max to get a whack at his backside.
‘You’re going nowhere,’ he spoke with authority. ‘You deserve to be spanked and you know you do. Now keep still and take your spanking without fuss.’ This did nothing to calm Jordan and he continued to squirm over Max’s lap, cussing him all the while. ‘Watch your language, young man, or I might take you to the bathroom to wash your mouth out.’ Then Max remembered something, ‘And there’s a mighty fine bath brush in there that I’ll use to tan your behind with.’ He regretted not thinking about the brush earlier. It would have been very useful in his present predicament.
But Max suddenly had another idea. ‘If you don’t stop your wriggling, I’m going to take down these underpants and you can have it on the bare.’ To show the seriousness of his intentions, Max gripped the elasticated waist of the blue cotton pants and made as if you tug them down.
‘No, no, no!’ Jordan yelled in panic. ‘Leave them, leave them!’ he believed the seriousness of Max’s threat. ‘I’ll keep still, I’ll keep still.’
‘You had better have,’ Max scowled. ‘Now keep your arms out of the way. Keep your head still. Raise you bottom a little.’ Jordan did all these things and was now settled submissively across Max’s lap. ‘Good boy,’ Max cooed as he gently ran the palm of his right hand first over Jordan’s right buttock and then over his left, and in so doing smoothed out the wrinkles in the cotton underpants. This wasn’t strictly necessary because the pants fitted the firm, round buttock cheeks perfectly. Satisfied that Jordan was settled and not going to cause trouble, Max raised his hand high and brought it down with a resounding whack! across the centre of the left cheek. Then he did the same on the right. The sound of his hand connecting with firm meat could be heard above the sound of the television. Commercials were showing and there was a jolly tune playing behind an ad for a car. Without realising he was doing so, Max spanked Jordan’s bottom in time to the music. Then the commercial changed and Max did the same with that.
Max hadn’t thought his spanking threat through. How many slaps should he give? How hard should he go? What would happen after he finished? He slapped on and on as hard as he could. His hand was stinging and judging from Jordan’s sedate condition his bum probably wasn’t. How he wished he’d thought about the brush earlier.
The commercials ended and a new programme began. Max realised he had been spanking his roommate for more than ten minutes; that was enough. He rained down a final six on each cheek and released his grip. ‘There, that’s done. Stand up.’ Max felt foolish. Had he just spanked his roommate? What right did he have to do that? What if Jordan reported him to the university; Max would be expelled. Maybe there’d be a court case.
He had no reason to fear on that score; Jordan was rubbing his sore backside and his face was as red with embarrassment as the cheeks undoubtedly were beneath his pants. He had no intention of telling anyone about this; not even Danny. He’d never live it down if people knew he had been taken across Max’s knee and spanked on his underpants like some naughty little boy.
‘You’d better …. I don’t know,’ Max blustered and in his own embarrassment and confusion, he picked up his backpack. ‘I’ve got lectures, I’m going back to uni.’ He rushed to the door and escaped.
Picture credit: Bad Lads dot com
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