From: gaetana@aol.com (Gaetana)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.spanking
Subject: Both Sides Now
Date: 25 Aug 1994 18:50:02 -0400
Message-ID: <33j76q$2ou@search01.news.aol.com>

Both Sides Now...

Copyright (C) 1994 By Gaetana and St. Clair

Jay:
Where we grew up, on the outskirts of a small town,  all the houses
around were on anywhere from 1 to 5 acres of land, covered with
large live-oak trees, and some cedar.  We were probably ten, maybe
eleven, when two of my friends, Larry and J.R., and I invented a fine
game  called Naked Tarzan.  We had rigged up loincloths made of 
towels, and would get up in this huge tree on the back of Jerry's
property, take off our shorts (it was summer) and briefs, and don our
loincloths.  We felt quite daring and sexually  stimulated, although I
don't recall understanding at the time exactly why - perhaps thinking
that some of the girls might be impressed had something to do with
it -more probably just trying to "flog the log."

Gina:
There were just a few other girls in the neighborhood and I was, I
guess, if not the oldest, at least the boldest.  Approved games for
girls were in my view boring and staid, and the boys got to do all the
adventurous things.  Jay and his friends had a neat game where
they'd hang out in an enormous tree playing Tarzan, stripped down
to some kind of makeshift loincloths and swinging around the
branches, being macho and, I thought, very daring.  I had a
pre-adolescent crush on Jay,  his exploits endowed with an
attraction I didn't even dimly understand. I idolized him secretly and
watched their game, aching to join and enter their bold society.  But,
afraid of rejection (and punishment at home), I worshipped from afar.
One day I was alone, playing in the backyard with the cat, and
watching the boys giggling in their Tarzan tree.  They were nearly
naked, trying to outdo each other's masculine bravado, doing a lot of
posturing, pushing and shoving, and I'm not sure what else.  I saw
Larry's mother come out of the kitchen door and notice them in the
tree.  I didn't know what to do; there was no way to warn Jay and his
friends - if I yelled, she'd hear me too.  I couldn't do anything but
watch in fascinated horror as she bore down on the unsuspecting
boys and watch the angry pantomime that was clearly a peremptory
order.  The guys slid down the vast trunk, not looking like ape-men
anymore but guilty and scared.  She dragged Larry toward
their back door while Jay. and J.R. tore for home. 

Jay:
About the fourth or fifth time we played this fine game, Larry's
mother caught us.  We never saw her coming.   ordered him into the
house, and sent J.R. and me home.   Damn Alexander Graham Bell
and the telephone!  When I got home, my mother was standing in
the front yard, belt in hand, waiting.  Of course, Larry's mother had
called.  All Mom said was "Get in your room." Usually this meant a
long wait alone in my room, dreading the whipping that was almost
certain to follow.  But that day there was no waiting.  She was right 
behind me, pushing me upstairs.  Before I had time to think, Tarzan's 
loincloth was draped ludicrously  around my ankles, and I was in the 
all too familiar position - bent over the bed, waiting to get my ass 
burned with the belt.  I had no way of knowing it that day, but she was 
about to "go for the gold."  I was in for the grandaddy spanking of 
my young life.  My mother rarely spanked in anger, but that day, 
totally out of character - she was lecturing me and spanking my 
naked bottom with the belt - all at the same time! By the time she 
got to seven or eight strokes, I was begging her to stop - but she was 
just warming up.  And both of us knew that the strapping would 
continue until *she* decided that I had received my full punishment.

Gina:
Jay lived next house over from me, which was actually about the
equivalent of a block.  J.R. had run the other way toward his house,
two blocks over.  I didn't know for sure what was going on in Larry's
house by this time, but my butt tingled just from imagining.  My own
last paddling (with the most painful and dreaded wooden spoon) had
kept me in line for weeks that lingering summer-like fall, probably the
only reason I hadn't tried to wangle permission to join the game with
the boys...and now I was shivering at the prospect of the whipping
that could earn me!  But I couldn't take my eyes off Jay as my
betrayed hero ran up the long driveway to his house - to be met right
at the threshold by his mother.  Even from that distance, I could see
her arms folded and the heavy belt in her hand.  I couldn't hear the
voices clearly, but her body language was sharp and stern as she
caught the back of his hair and yanked him over the stoop, and I
heard him yell out , "Mom - NO!" -- and then they were in the house,
the door slammed.  Filled with guilt and fascination, I flew out the
back door and ran the whole distance to Jay's house, up the
driveway, keeping along the bushes afraid to be seen...I was terrified
that Jay might see me - or worse, his mother - but I couldn't stand
not knowing his fate!

Jay:
I can still feel that belt today.  My mom spanked slowly and methodically,
delivering another blistering stroke from the strap every three or four 
seconds.  Before she was finished, it seemed like she whipped me for two
days.  I was wiggling and dodging (as much as I could without getting 
out of position),  and howling out loud each time that strap bit into my
ass.

Each fiery stroke burned my scorched bottom worse than the one before, and

it was all I could do to push my smoking cheeks up in the air and ready 
myself for the next punishing lick.  Talk about blistered, - whew!  I 
don't know how many strokes she gave me, but it was way over thirty.  

Gina:
I found a huge azalea outside the back porch and crouched behind
it, so nervous I almost lost my nerve and ran home again.  But in a
moment I was galvanized by a loud THWACK and a hoarse yell - I
recognized Jay's voice and clapped both hands over my mouth.  The
first smack was succeeded by others: sickeningly loud and hard,
each punctuated with an anguished yell from my valiant hero - from
the terrible sound effects, he was getting the worst strapping I'd ever
heard, and my heart was pounding.  The swats went on and on - Jay 
was just yowling continuously before it finally stopped.  Then it was
silent.  I could hear muffled voices and sobs, and I was sure my
heart would break.  I came back to a realization of my own peril, and
crept as silently as I could back along the hedge to the road,
streaking at full speed back home before discovery.  

Jay:
When she had finally vented her wrath on my unfortunate backside,
I was reduced to a sobbing, whimpering child, begging his mom 
for mercy.  Shamed and humiliated, a disgrace to Tarzans everywhere, 
all I wanted from life was to lie on my stomach in my room, nursing 
technicolor blisters.  But even this solace was to be denied me. 
Unthinkably, I was ordered to show up to help her with dinner in
thirty minutes.  Worse still, when my father arrived, she ordered me to 
lower my shorts and display the earnings from my short, but lively,
career as Tarzan.  As I sat at the table in squirming agony, trying to 
choke down my dinner, I realized that I now understood the meaning 
of the phrase "wages of sin."  Eventually the burning pain in my 
swollen throbbing butt subsided, but the remaining blisters and bruises 
prevented me from sitting comfortably for more than a week.  

Gina:
I fell asleep that night, picturing Jay's poor behind getting that 
blistering and wishing I could comfort my wounded hero!  When I 
came down to breakfast, my dad was just coming in with the 
newspaper.  Through the open door, I saw Jay's mother in their 
yard, staring our way.  My heart jumped a bit as he demanded, 
"Just what were YOU up to yesterday, young lady? Jay's mother 
just told me she spanked the b'jesus out of him when she found 
out he and his friends were playing "lewd games" in a neighbor's 
tree.  When she left him crying in his room to go downstairs, 
"Guess who she saw sneaking out from under that window?  If 
you want to share what he got so bad, I guess I need to oblige 
you!"  Daddy by now had his belt in his hand. I didn't bother 
answering the rhetorical questions.  I was going to get it.

Daddy just unceremoniously yanked my shorts down and grasped
me expertly around the middle, folding me right over across the 
kitchen table I knew Jay's mom was still standing in her yard, 
arms folded with the newspaper, while I got whipped.  Indignant at Jay 
and me being betrayed again, I bit my lip, determined 
to "take it" silently, but the strap always won:  wriggling behind 
stinging unbearably, I was soon howling and begging my dad to stop.  
Worst of all, I knew I deserved every fiery smack for eavesdropping on my 
true love's punishment.  Now I was feeling what Jay had felt, poetic
justice
 - although at least I had the dignity of my skimpy cotton panties.  With
my bottom blazing, my Dad released me and waited for an explanation.  
"Daddy" (rubbing my butt, back arched and dancing) "He's my FRIEND! 
I just wanted to...."  I couldn't continue because I didn't know what I'd
just wanted to! I hung my head and resigned myself to the severe lecture 
that followed, which I'll spare you.  After that, though, Jay and I had a 
bond, which must have shown in my eyes. I still cherish it today.

Jay (Epilog):
Let me assure you, that strapping ended my career as Naked Tarzan.  
Even if I had been willing to risk another session with my mom's belt,
no respectable Tarzan would be seen swinging through the trees 
displaying a blistered behind.  I heard my Mom tell my Dad that 
Jerry's dad took a razor strop to him, but nothing happened to J.R., 
which seemed pretty unfair.  Stranger still, it seemed that one of the
neighborhood girls was also spanked for something related to the
Tarzan game, but it was years before I learned the reason.  She was 
one the girls I'd never really paid any attention to, but after the Tarzan

incident, she really caught my juvenile eye.  She lived just across the 
road and was always hanging around, but before, I just hadn't seen 
that she had kind of pretty eyes and hair and...looked at me like I 
was some kind of hero or something.  After everything else, that 
wasn't hard to take.

Well, that's the story of Naked Tarzan.  Hope you enjoyed it.  Come
on Gina, lets go upstairs and get our loinclothes on.