A Hallowe'en spanking story with a monster and strange events only explainable as, well, magic.  It is, of course,  fiction.  The sex parts are optional.

This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission.  Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.

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The Yeti (Abominable Snowman of the Himalayas) in Asia, the Sasquatch (Bigfoot) in North America, the Yowie in Australia and the Mapinguari in the Amazon are all the stuff of myths and horror stories.  Well, have you heard of Bigpaw, the spanking monster?  Well, snuggle down under the covers this Hollowe'en with your flashlight after good little boys and girls are suppose to be in Neverneverland with their trick 'n' treat candy baskets on their dressers while the ghosts and goblins, the witches and even Bigpaw are out hunting.

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The Hallowe'en Attack of Bigpaw

By

YLeeCoyote@juno.com

Blake knew that it was going to happen even before he moved to Littleville, Nowhere.  He would be the new boy in town.  It did not help that he moved in during Labor Day weekend and school started on Tuesday – before he could even start to explore the neighborhood and meet anyone.

He quickly discovered that at thirteen he was the youngest in the ninth grade – instantly making him the lowest of the lowly freshmen.  In just one PE period he knew that half his classmates were well into puberty and they knew that he was not.  He played a careful game with his new peers – not too aggressive nor too timid.  He played dumb so that he could get suckered into a fight with one of his classmates, Rex.  Of course, the guy had all the advantages – including puberty, height, weight and even a fan club.  It took him a long time to get the coach to agree to referee a wrestling match.  Just as he knew he would lose, he was sure Rex knew that he would win.  That did not matter; that he was game enough to fight was all that mattered.

He was as ferocious as tigress defending her cubs especially at the start.  Rex could have pinned him easily but chose to play with him.  Rex scored point after point but Blake kept going.  It was only at the end when Rex was pinning him that he whispered in his ear: "I like your spirit, Blake." that he knew for certain that he had done the right thing.

As he made friends he learnt about The House.  Like all small towns, on the outskirts behind a once white picket fence with a busted gate was The House.  Half the shutters were missing and the other half creaked, squealed and banged with the breeze.  Several great majestic trees filled the yard with their red and gold discarded leaves ankle deep by mid-October.  Of course, there were the stories of murders and ghosts – of the innocent victims and of the evil perpetrators – who needed retribution or release.  Every time Blake's new friends showed him The House the tales got wilder.  The only thing missing was the Hollywood poster with Vincent Price or Boris Karloff dripping with splattered, hot, crimson blood.

And there was that rickety little bridge with several broken planks over the little creek which was on the town side of the house.  It was a small bridge, just wide enough for an old baby carriage or wheelchair to save going around on the road.  But the broken railing gave credence to other stories of an accident (a most unfortunate mortal fall) or a shove (a most dastardly murder) on that fateful night almost a century ago when the great blizzard dumped more than twenty inches of snow on the little town.  That body was never found.  Did it drift down the mostly frozen creek to the river and then to the sea?  Did some bridge troll eat well that night?  Or did the wolves?  Or could Bigpaw have scared the poor victim into falling or spanked him into confusion?© YLeeCoyote

With Hallowe'en coming there was not any honorable way out for the new boy in town; the parties would be on the weekend and the trick 'n' treating on Monday night followed by the ghostly haunting – after good little (and not so little) boys and girls were tucked in for school the next morning.  After helping with the little kids doing trick 'n' treat would come the test; the ordeal for Blake.  He had to prove he was a brave man and be in The House at the witching hour or alternatively shamefully show that he was still a cowardly baby who certainly did not deserve hair about his little pee-pee.  Normally the test would have been on his thirteenth birthday but that event had occurred before he moved to town.

He heard a story at the Hallowe'en party he would have preferred not to.  One kid's uncle really knew how to tell a story; especially a horror story to send chills up and down youngsters' spines.  Only a jack-o'-lantern with a tiny candle provided a little, flickering, eerie light in the room festooned with realistic cobwebs, skeletons, ugly witches and their familiars.  The story teller began: "A few years ago, not very far from here there was a horrid event."

«Sure», thought Blake, «sure there was!» that story started just like the ones he heard in camp sitting about the campfire every summer.

He did hear about another terrible creature – Bigpaw; like his better known cousin Sasquatch, a.k.a. Bigfoot.  This was totally new to him.  The story teller explained that the monster was huge and strong.  Strangely, it did not eat or rip its victims limb from limb but spanked them like little naughty kids.  It spanked both kids and grown ups in the same way – bared their butts and turned them hot, crimson red and painful.  Its victims were changed forever.  The details were, SURPRISE, vague.

The story teller explained that the disappearance almost a century ago was not the only time the monster had struck.  Of course, this week and especially Hallowe'en night would be very dangerous to be out after dark.

Science told him that witches, ghosts and trolls were mythical creatures and not real.  Folklore said different and, like all legends, he knew had some basis in fact but now he was too old believe in such things.

His classmates, both friends and especially the others, increasingly talked of the horrors of the night especially on Monday at school.  It would be dark for it was night of the new moon.  Blake decided that he must be brave.  He got a couple of small flashlights that he could hide under his clothes.

At 11 he got out of bed and quietly dressed.  Prudently, he put on his heavy clothes, boots and winter coat.  He strapped the extra flashlights to his calves where they would be hidden.  The temperature had dropped to under 50° F (10° C) and the wind was howling.  In mid-October, just a couple of weeks ago it had been a very balmy 77° F (25° C) even into the evening.  He clambered out his window and then climbed down the trellis; his parents none the wiser of his departure.  Colby and Wade meet him as planned and they proceeded to The House.  He only had to spend an hour – alone with the ghosts and other evil creatures of the night – in the house to pass the test.  Failure was not an option for it would mean scorn and ridicule.

Blake's friends watched him make his way up the path illuminated by the light of his own flashlight appropriated by Colby on the safe side of the bridge.  He carefully crossed the shaky bridge and made his way up the rickety steps.  He thought that surely the whole town could hear the front door squeal as he forced it open.  Blake had decided that there was not anything to fear; well except plots by other kids.  He was certain that ghosts and spirits did not exist; certainly not in this world.  He decided that he might as well explore the place as everyone else had.  Most noticeable was that there was not much about.  A couple of broken chairs here and there.  Dust and dirt abounded; if only that was worth something for he could have filled a couple of trash bags while he was here.  There were three dirty mattresses in the place along with lots of empty drinks containers – beer, wine and booze.  It took him a little time to realize that in the litter of trash, mixed in with the food wrappers, were scumbags.

The wind howled and it was indeed chilly but he was dressed for it.  Although the floor creaked with every step he took and so did the stairs except for the missing third step.  There were not any ghosts that made themselves known.  Blake explored the entire place most happy that he had his backup flashlight (and another in reserve).  He looked in every room; in every closet and even into the attic and cellar.  The coal fired furnace seemed huge compared to modern oil and gas ones with their efficient design.  He was actually disappointed at how boring the place was but that was the price to be one of the gang.

He kept checking his watch.  Finally it was 12:30 and he could leave.  He was sure his friends would be chilled to the bone since they wore only light clothes.  As he walked out he was sorry that he hadn't brought a thermos of hot chocolate.  Colby and Wade would  have especially appreciated it.  Well, too late now.

The door squeaked as loudly as went he had gone in.  The porch steps still rocked and creaked as he made his way down to the bridge and back to town.  He was sure that the squeal of the door would have summoned his friends down to the bridge to meet him.  They were not there.  He waited five minutes and decided that they had gone home.  A very sensible idea rather than hanging about in the cold; he started back home himself.  A couple of owls were hooting.  He could hear small animals scurrying about but there was still another sound which he couldn't identify.  It began to remind him of a baby crying.  But at this hour babies were not about.  Perhaps some wild animal that had been hurt?  Something else would get a good fresh, hot, meat meal soon; such is nature.

He turned with the road and was shocked.  There, butt naked draped across a fallen tree were his two friends.  Their naked butts were bright red and they were crying.  They were struggling but could not get up.  He called but they replied – not!  Without thinking he rushed forward and gave each of them a shake.

Blake thought that they were trying to respond but they still remained draped over the log.  They seemed to try to move but couldn't and he could not see any restraints holding them in place.  They were responsive but did not make any intelligible sounds.  "A fine mess you got yourselves in." Blake mused as he considered the problem.  Running for help did not quite seem to be the thing for it would get them all into trouble and he did not want his butt looking – and feeling – like those of his buddies.  "You're staying in position like you haven't been spanked enough."  With that he gave each of them a couple of spanks on each cheek.  "Is this what you need?" he joked.

Right after Blake gave them those couple of gentle spanks they responded.  They were still draped over the log but they were now trusting their red-hot butts out at him. «It's almost like they want more spanks.» thought Blake.  So he gave them several more spanks this time harder than before.  They continued to thrust their asses out like they were asking for more.  Blake also sensed a change that the ambience was now less tense.  He was, naturally, puzzled by all of this.

Then he thought he heard voices.  They were very faint but clear nevertheless.  They sounded like his friends but they still could not talk.  It did not matter which way he turned for they always seemed to be coming from in front of him even if he covered his ears.  Then it dawned on him – he was hearing them inside his head.

«SPANK ME, Blake, You must spank me.»

He could not resist his friends' pleads and spanked them both even though their tails were hot and red before he started.  Then they slumped down and the pleads changed.

«Enough!  Enough!  Enough!»

Blake stopped.  They yelped a bit.

"IT WAS BIGPAW!"

"BIGPAW GOT US!"

Just like in the story they all had heard just two nights ago at the party.  Bigpaw that had haunted the path or the town or perhaps the entire world and soundly spanked its victims.  Bigpaw must only get those in the open for Blake was spared.

Blake was a bit skeptical of all this.  On the other hand, his friends had hot red butts and were crying (not that he would ever say that to them).  They both had older brothers who probably did it.  But why didn't those guys also go after him also for surely they knew what was going on that night.  He though of joking about how their butts were surely warm but what about the rest of them but decided against it.  He had his own questions – he heard their voices yet they could not speak.  Had they been faking being held?

He watched as they pulled up their pants before asking the most obvious question: "Wha' happened?"

"Bigpaw got us!" repeated Colby and Wade agreed.

"Sure, it did.  And Jack Frost will come next week to paint the windows and Santa, in his sleigh pulled by eight flying reindeer, will bring you coal for lying.  Did your brothers do this or did you just try to keep warm?"

"It was Bigpaw, Blake.  Really it was." insisted Colby.

And then Wade continued.  "We waited a while for you to get scared and run out but you didn't so we took a walk to keep warm.  We rounded the bend and he was standing in the road.  He must have been nine, no ten feet (3 meters) tall."

"Huge!  Bigger than a gorilla!  Gigantic like a Kodiak bear!" interjected Colby.

"But he was not a gorilla or a bear or even Chewbacca; he was BIGPAW!"

"Yes, Bigpaw!  We were frozen at the sight of him.  He took a couple of steps and grabbed us.  I knew instantly that I could not break out of his powerful grip."

"Me too."

"He dragged us over to the tree where you found us.  We could not move even when he let go of us.  We stood there like dummies waiting for him to do what he wanted to do."

"Kill us!  Tear us limb from limb!  Whatever he wanted.  We couldn't do anything to stop him; nohow; noway."

"He sat down on the log and grabbed my belt and pulled me close.  I could smell his hot, foul breath as he yanked open my belt and zipper before shoving my jeans and boxers down to my ankles.  Then he did the same to Wade."

"I didn't know what he was going to do to us." continued Wade.  "We were frozen in place with our balls hanging out…"

"…and our butts, too." finished Colby.  He pulled me over his lap first.  I went as easily as when dad pulled me over his lap when I was a kid of eight.  He placed a heavy hand on my back to hold me place.  I could not move so I could not struggle.  Then he spanked me.  He spanked me hard.  He spanked me long and hard.  His paw hurt like a paddle.

"He's a strong beast!  That's what he did to me also.  A long hard Bigpaw paw spanking on our bare butts."  Wade paused and Colby did not interject.  "We were bawling like little kids when he stopped."

They both looked ashamed but they knew Blake had found them crying.  "We don't have to tell anyone else about that part." he said magnanimously.  "But why were you over the log and not moving?"

"That's the way he put us and we couldn't move.  We couldn't even yell."

"Not until you spanked us.

"You must have broken his spell." added Colby.

"Yea." agreed Wade "Broken his spell.  We were paralyzed."

They made their way home and each of them slipped into their beds without their parents knowing.  In the morning two big brothers were very incredulous at the explanations they got for the still red butts.

There was no way to hide their apple-red butts in PE class later that morning.  The claim of a Bigpaw attack were dismissed.  "We're not in kindergarten any more.  What did you guys do to get your dads so mad?" was the question.

It was a couple of weeks later that Blake learnt more about what Bigpaw had done to his friends.  Colby came to him and insisted that they talk privately and that he swear never to tell before he explained in a low whisper.  "We did not tell you all about Bigpaw that night.  We did not believe what he said then but you gotta help me.  Bigpaw said that I must be spanked when I am naughty until I'm a man.  Dad stopped spanking me and I'm glad of that not that I like being grounded.  But the Monster said I would know when I was naughty and needed to be spanked."

Blake was surprised.  "Why didn't you ask Wade to do it since he knows about this?"

"That's the problem.  He can't do it be it has to be an adult who is in charge of me."  Colby hesitated and whispered.  "Or you – because you freed me from the immobility spell with your spanks."

"You mean that I'm your and Wade's official spanker until you're men?"

"I'm afraid so until the spell is broken." said Colby with resignation.

"Do I have to lecture you also?"

"I don't think so because Bigpaw said I would know when it was sufficient.  Just like I know that I've been naughty enough to have earned a spanking now."

The realization of what all this meant caused Blake to grin to out grin even a Cheshire Cat.  He sat down on the bed, grabbed Colby's belt and pulled him over to him  Then for the first time with great pleasure he opened Colby's belt, his jeans and along his boxers pushing them all the way down.  "What happens to naughty boys, Colby?" he asked (trying not to sound too sarcastic).

"They get spanked, sir.  On their bare bottoms, sir." responded Colby remembering what he had to say for his father not so many years ago.  Blake pulled the naughty boy over his lap and caressed the target.  It looked so different than it had after Bigpaw had done its job.  He raised his hand and brought it down on the target.  He was delighted at seeing his hand print form in Colby's skin.  Then he proceeded to spank Colby long and hard.

Colby was quiet for a while then he began to promise to be good; to be a very good boy forever and forever.  Blake continued to spank until he noticed that Colby had changed in some way and stopped.  He assumed that it was the magic letting them both know that it was enough.  He helped Colby stand and to pull up his pants.

"My pleasure, buddy; my pleasure indeed." he replied truly meaning every word.  "I guess I can expect that Wade will be around soon."  And he was just two days later, at lunch, Wade asked Blake if he could help him as he had helped Colby.

How could he refuse to help a good buddy?  So that very afternoon Blake did what he considered his duty.  Once they were alone, Blake went into his discipline mode and briefly lectured Wade and made him confess his misdeed and even ask to be soundly spanked on his bare bottom.  He was not allowed to call it his ass or butt like a young man.  Blake considered how bad the crime was and decided to strip Wade completely.  He unbuttoned his shirt and removed it.  Then he made Wade remove his sneakers so that he could remove his jeans after he unbuttoned them.  He discovered that Wade was wearing tighty-whites.  Blake did not understand why but he liked the look much better than fashionable boxers.  Wade showed sign of discomfort as Blake lowered them to his knees and then let them fall to the floor.

Blake pulled him over his lap.  He raised his hand and brought it down hard.  Wade yelped and he smiled as he watched his hand print form.  Then he spanked him hard and fast.  The magic spell took a while to indicate that it was sufficient.  Wade was crying and they both knew that Blake had done a good spanking job.

Wade regained his composure and as he dressed, thanked Blake for his help.  Blake told him that it was nothing; buddies always help each other.  It was a few days later that Blake told Colby and Wade that they should wear tighty-whities when they come for their spankings for naughty little boys just don't wear boxers.

Blake was a true friend over the next few years always helping his buddies whenever they needed him.  That he thoroughly enjoyed spanking them was quite beside the point as he did his duty. As they all got older they sometimes did things just for the fun of it, although all of them, but especially Wade and Colby, knew the difference between a punishment spanking and a play spanking.

The End

© Copyright A.I.L., October 28, 2005

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