Alice sat on her patio with four of her book club friends. They were enjoying a lovely spring afternoon and some wine while they discussed Carl Hiaasen’s most recent novel. Through the screen door, Alice heard someone come in front door. At first she thought it might be a fifth guest, Joyce, who always seemed to run late but then heard her nephew, Peter, call out, “Auntie Alice?”

“Out here,” Alice replied. Peter appeared on the patio a few moments later and greeted the ensemble. “You’re really late,” Alice scolded. Peter started to apologize but Alice cut him off, “I’m really peeved - you were supposed to be back almost three hours ago. You had my car and so I wasn’t able to get the provisions to host book club and I had to rely on my friends to provide beverages and snacks.”

“I’m sorry. I lost track of time,” Peter began to explain.

Again Alice interrupted, “…didn’t text or call to say you were running late. Isn’t this something we’ve ‘discussed’ before?”

Peter knew immediately what she meant by ‘discuss’. It was a term his mom used, too, and it was not in reference to a verbal conversation. When he had graduated high school and continued to live at home to save money while attending junior college, his mom had made it clear that house rules remained unchanged and violation of rules carried the same consequences as before, as well. Those consequences - or ‘discussions’ - were a trip over her knee as she heated his bare backside with her hairbrush. Then about a year ago, he had moved across the state to live with his aunt after transferring to a four-year college. His aunt’s rules and disciplinary habits were quite similar to his mom’s except perhaps she was even more quick to react to even minor missteps and those reactions were more enthusiastic and intense. It was a rare week without a trip across her lap.

In fact, he had not really lost track of time. His attention had been consumed by his new friend - Gaby. Gaby had coyly alluded that awesome benefits to their friendship lay ahead. Fixated on that, Peter had ignored his studies and conversed through the afternoon with the winsome young woman and then gave her a ride home. Her parents were still at work, so she had invited him in, making him even later but at least sexually satiated.

Alice looked at her nephew and then to her friend, Kate, who nodded almost imperceptibly, then declared “We’re gonna take care of this right here, right now. Got get the strap!”

“Please, no,” Peter pleaded. A strapping was bad enough but having it done in front the book club would be really mortifying.

“Nonsense,” Alice retorted. “Your behavior impacted me and my friends and they deserve to see you get your comeuppance. Go get the strap before I change my mind and have you fetch a switch.”

Peter paused momentarily but then left the patio. His aunt was implacable and he knew from recent and direct experience that a switch would be much worse than the strap. He hurried to the closet where the strap hung.

On the patio, Donna asked, “What’s going on?” Apparently the only person still unclear on what was to occur.

“She’s going to strap the young fellow’s bare butt,” Kate replied with obvious satisfaction in Alice’s decision.

“…and we get to watch,” Mindy added.

Anne remained quietly excited by the upcoming entertainment that would certainly spice-up this book club meeting.

Peter knew to return with haste as tarrying would only worsen the upcoming punishment but when he emerged again on the patio with the strap his heart sank. His aunt was holding her garden shears. She took the strap and handed the tool to him. “I changed my mind - I’m going to apply both leather and switch to your naughty bottom.” Peter sighed with resignation and plodded across the yard to the willow tree to retrieve a switch. Alice handed the strap to Kate, who looked over the doubled leather, stitched together at the handle, apparently approving of her friend’s choice and laid the tool back on the patio table.

Peter returned a few minutes later and handed the switch to Alice, who reviewed it carefully. It met her requirements - about the length of his arm and the diameter of small end about the same as his pinky. She laid it along side the strap on the table and stood. She pulled her chair away from the table so that both her backswing and her friends’ views would be unencumbered. “Kneel on the chair…” she ordered, “…then lower your pants and bend down so your shoulders are against the top of the chair back.” This position afforded Peter a bit of modesty and yet created a taut canvas on which she would work.

Peter complied and she tapped the strap against his bare cheeks and gave him a hard stroke. He reared up and Alice cautioned, “Leave position again and the swat doesn’t count.” Peter returned to position and Alice slowly meted-out a dozen hard strokes on his bare tush, leaving a red swath.

“What do you think?” Alice asked Kate, knowing her friend’s expertise on reddening bottoms.

“That’s a good start,” Kate replied. “Mind if I add my own punctuation to the message?”

“Be my guest,” Alice replied handing the strap to Kate.

Kate added another six hard strokes to Peter’s already well-heated ass before dropping the strap back on the table and taking her seat.

“And now to really drive home the point that my time should be respected,” Alice announced, picking up the switch. She tapped it against Peter’s red bottom and the then drew back. Everyone heard the whoosh and loud snap of willow against bare skin. Peter grunted in agony as his aunt laid six parallel stripes on his red behind. “Any other takers?” she asked.

Kate, Mindy and Donna each took their turns, adding a few strokes each. Only Anne declined to join-in. Then, Peter carefully pulled up his pants and left the patio. Alice resumed the discussion of the book as if nothing had interrupted the conversation and the others re-joined the main reason for the gathering.

Although the topic had returned to the novel, Anne could not shake the image of Peter’s naked bottom being impacted. She had only once been a bystander to another male bottom being spanked. Once, as a teen, her mom had paddled both her and her brother. She had gone first and remembered watching through her tears as her brother’s bare ass was being reddened by mom’s hairbrush. Even though it was her own brother, she could not control the feelings of arousal. That same awkward feeling had returned today watching Peter’s bare ass impacted by strap and switch.

Much later when the guests began to depart, Anne opened her phone to the Uber app. She was the only member of the club that did not live within walking distance of Alice. Alice objected, “Never-mind Uber, I will have Peter take you home.” Alice realized that sitting on his well-spanked bottom driving home a witness to his ignominy would be a delicious add-on to his comeuppance. Anne could not help smiling at Peter grimacing in discomfort sitting on his very sore bottom. As they neared her place, she offered, “Come inside. I have some arnica gel that will make your tush feel much better.”

She led him inside and to her guest room. “Lay face down on the bed,” she instructed, retrieving the tube of gel from her night stand. The gel was not there by accident as it was a frequent component of aftercare when her own disciplinarian friend warmed her own bottom. “Lower your pants, sweetie,” she coaxed. Peter shrugged down his pants again and felt her apply the soothing ointment to his fiery cheeks. He felt her trace the welts left by the switch and then move into decidedly unspanked territory, parting his cheeks and teasing his perineum. He was about to protest, when she instructed him, “Roll over.”

He complied and she began to stroke then suck his erection. He soon felt the welling-up sensation of climax approaching and then figuratively exploded in her mouth. She licked an errant rivulet on finger and cooed, “If you ever need aftercare when your aunt has punished you, you know where to come,” Anne announced, emphasizing the double meaning of ‘come’.