“Ok”, Bobby said, “five more, harder, but you have to take all 5 licks no matter what, without moving.”
I nodded yes without speaking, as I felt my body tense up again. Bobby resumed his position. I closed my eyes as I saw him draw his arm back to deliver the first lick. It was definitely a harder lick which caused me to groan more audibly just as the second lick arrived. I grimaced hard and gasped with the remaining licks. I had no idea at the time that what he was helping me to experience was nothing compared to the "real thing" I would experience as an adult/bad boy years later.
Bobby delayed for a minute or so after finishing my licking and said, “OK, that’s enough for today. We need to save some fun for another time.” He laughed and set the strap down on the seat of the sofa. “I didn’t really deliver the licks as hard as I could have, and for sure not nearly as bad as my dad would have, but you did great for a first time…better than I thought you would. You seem pretty serious about this spanking stuff…like me.”
I pulled myself up from the arm of the sofa and turned to face Bobby who asked me to turn around and drop my pants and undershorts to see the effects of the strap on my butt. I obliged him and he reported, “OK…some nice red strap marks, nothing serious, should be gone in a few hours, no black and blues.”
I added, “I can only imagine what that sucker”, pointing to the strop on the sofa, “would feel like being applied to the seat of my undershorts by my dad, like you guys get it, oh man, don’t know if I’d still be such a fan of the razor strap then.”
Bobby added, “I get it very hard from my dad, and I’m still a fan. The actual licking and wicked pain that comes with it, are worth it for what usually amounts to hours of anticipation and ‘afterglow’”.
At that point I noted that both of us were standing there with the zipper area of our jeans well “tented”. That didn’t turn into anything then nor did it ever in the next 2-3 years when our razor strap games came to an end.
I left for home to have a look for myself, in our bathroom mirror, at the evidence on my butt of my first licking.
Over the next couple of years our strap games were off and on. I got to a point where I could take longer lickings from Bobby, who got to apply the strop to me pretty hard. I liked it mostly on my jeans because that meant I could take a lot more and harder licks. I got it on my undershorts a few times…Bobby was a “pro” at pacing those lickings, pushing me past what I thought was my limit. He also often took a licking from me which he usually wanted on his undershorts, and quite hard. If there was time available, like me he often took his lickings on his jeans as that meant we could deliver longer, harder lickings to each other.
After 8th grade graduation Bobby and I went to different high schools and our friendship waned, though, even through high school, I’d still occasionally hear Bobby, or one of his brothers, getting a licking from dad with his razor strap.
In the end, I don’t think Bobby’s father ever realized the extracurricular activities his strop was put through for those few years. Too funny.
Those years were also a powerful introduction for me into what was to become a lifelong obsession with guy-on-guy spanking, particularly with a razor strap. I’ve liked being on both ends of the strop, giving/receiving, though I haven’t had any “play” time in recent years.
Miss that a lot.