My Gambling Lesson


by Jeffie <Jetspot@aol.com>

When I was thirteen my Dad taught me a lesson I didn't soon forget. DON'T GAMBLE, Unless you are willing to pay the consequences of losing. This story is partly truth and partly fiction, I'm not saying which is which of course, but this is how I remember it.

My Dad and I had time together on Sundays. We watched golf. He would point out who the best golfers were and I would watch and ask questions. I also caddied for him on some Saturdays so I was getting the hang of it all. I didn't really ave any desire to play the game myself, but it was our time together away from my Mom and sister. They did their own thing too. I had a major crush on my Dad. He was my hero. I thought he was very handsome. I hadn't realized my own _s_e_x_ual orientation yet, but he was well aware that we were spending time together because I wanted to. He was hoping to teach me a few things along the way, which of course he did.

This particular lesson is about gambling. We would each take a golfer we thought would win the tournament and the bet was always a dollar. I had the good fortune to have won for several weeks in a row, but you Dad always let me choose first, before tee off. I had amassed a few weeks worth of winnings in a jar, for when I lost you understand. I chose on this particular occassion to gamble all my pot on Sam Sneed. My Dad advised me not to, but I thought I could handle it. I was wrong. Jack Nicholas came through and beat Sam on the last three holes. I was mortified, I had lost all of my pot. I had plans for the total winnings, but not on losing. I told my Dad that I had erred and that the usual bet of one dollar should be all he should get. When he asked how much I would have asked for if I had won, I had to admit that I would have asked for the whole bet. He pointed out how that was a little one sided of me and then demanded the whole bet. I threw a temper tantrum right on the spot. I protested and whined. I finally just threw the money at him. Boy was that a mistake.

I hadn't been spanked ever by my Dad. He had always left the punishment routine up to Mom. Mostly because she was the one who caught my sister and I doing the wrong things to be punished for. My Dad just looked at me with the angriest face I had ever seen. "Pick that up and hand it to me young man or you will not sit down for a week". I thought about it and decided I was still not going to do the right thing. He warned me no longer. I was smaller than he was then and he was a great tennis player too. He was very agile and had me in his grasp within seconds. I was trying to fend him off, laughing as though it was a game. He was not amused.

He held me behind the neck with a grip that made m shrug to try to get loose. He held me at arms length while I fought to break free. This time he was laughing. I was getting angry and he was laughing. He started speaking softly to me to calm down. I started to do just that. He then took his advantage and pushed me down on the floor to pick up the money I had tossed at him. I gingerly scooped up the money and he held out his other hand for me to give it to him. He then put it on the table and brought me to sit on his lap. He scolded me by saying "your temper needs to be curbed. Not too many folks in the rest of the world would put up with such actions. When you gamble, you need to know that what you are gambling is money, or whatever, that you can afford to lose. I am going to drill this into you if it's the last thing I do. Now, I am going to give you a choice. For punishment you can either go to your bedroom right now and write me an essay on gambling or you can take your punishemnt like a little boy and get a spanking. Before you decide though I must warn you that if I don't like what you write on gambling you will get a more severe spanking and you'll have to let your mother and sister watch. I shall give you a half hour to think about this and we can take a shower so we're ready for dinner when Mom gets home."

A half an hour to think about what I should do? I didn't want the spanking, because I wasn't sure how it would go, but I also didn't want Mom and Sis to watch me get a spanking either, plus I always enede up writing lines for Mom's punishments. I hated lines, like Bart on the school blackboard. What a dilema. I quickly got undressed and started the shower. I would let the water do my thinking for me. I was in there soaping up when my Dad walked in. He had gotten undressed too and he was taking a leak. I always marvelled at how much longer he could sustain a pee than I could. I used to pull back the curtain a little to watch. This time I must have grabbed it wrong, bottom line I was getting him wet while he was pissing. He looked at me staring at him while he peed, but didn't say anything. I got a little red faced knowing he knew I liked watching him, but I also didn't stop staring either. He finished at the bowl by pulling on his penis a few times and then joined me in the shower.

There was lots of room for two and we both liked it. I handed him the soap and I started to rinse off what lather I had on my body. I watched him lather up and when he had soaped all over the rest of his hairy body, he started to wash his face. I always took the time to drink in the sight of my Dad's body lathered from head to toe, I also this time looked at his hands. He hadn't said how the spanking would be administered, but I assumed he would spank me with those massive hands. I shuddered. What's a poor boy to do? Alone with Dad, or being watched? I had decided, I wasn't going to write. I looked at his massive frame, his penis had gotten larger, because of the lathering I suspected. My penis was always rock hard when we showered together. I was proud to show my Dad how big it was. I was proud of my _d_i_c_k_ and his. Mine was uncut, and his wasn't but other than that even at thirteen I was almost as big as he was.

I grabbed a hold of his penis as he was rinsing off the soap. I noticed it got bigger in my hand. I had never gone that far before, I had brushed up against it when I purposefully dropped the soap and went to fetch it too, but I had never actually held it before. He looked down at me and smiled. He knew I was gay, even though I still didn't know. He resolved to not let it make a difference. He wasn't going to scold me for that. He was however going to stop it before I got too free with his body. "Let's get out and dry off," he said. I just let go of him and made my way out to find a towel. He always rubbed me down with the towel after showering. I was still hard as a rock. My little penis pointing to the sky. Dad got out too, after turning off the water. I handed him a towel and just stood there shivering. He came over and started the rubdown. He dried every inch of me turning me around and around. I laughed at this routine. When he was done I grabbed another towel and started to rub him dry. "Not now," he said. "You still have a decision to make. What's it gonna be boy?"

I told him I had decided to be big about it and do it now, and get it over with before the gals came home, I didn't want to write because that was something Mom made me do.

"OK! Since you're already naked, let's get down to business, son. Go stand by your chair at the dining room table, I'm going to finish up here."

I walked slowly into the dining room. My chair was just like his, but his had arm rests. I knew why my chair was chosen. Dad came into the dining room carrying his winnings from our bet and his belt. He laid the belt on the table in full view of my saucer shaped eyes and turned the chair so it was facing away from the table. He had bothered to put on boxer shorts, but nothing else. He beconed me nearer and then deftly pulled me across his lap. I was not touching the floor with my hands or my feet. I was vulnerable to say the least. He placed his hand on my bare backside and uttered those famous words, "This is going to hurt me more than it will you" then he started spanking me.

I thought I was going to die. It hurt me a lot. My erect penis had been placed between his hairy thighs to start and I belived I was in heaven. He'd actually put it there himself, he cared, he was going to help me get off. I was in pain, my _d_i_c_k_ was my major focus for about five seconds and then it was my flaming backside. I started to squirm and struggle. He held me tight administering blow after blow. I was getting tired of fighting and he was just getting started on my bottom. I begged and pleaded to be let go. I promised never to throw money in a tantrum. I sobbed out my transgressions as he laid into me but good. My one solace was that I had grabbed onto his hard _d_i_c_k_ as he was spanking me so I could be balanced properly while in this precarious position. I held on for dear life. All the tossing and turning and struggling kept him hard, even though I was far from it. I realized much later he was probably trying to let me help him get off, but I was in pain and not so focussed on him anymore. He stopped. I thought it was over. I was wrong.

He picked up the belt and started his gambling lecture. I was to hear this only once more, that's another story. He accentuated his thought process on my ass with leather biting into my flesh. I don't remeber getting a spanking this hard from my Mom ever. I let go, I cried and pleaded, screamed and finaly let go. He had me and I was listening. Finally it was over. He had remained hard the whole time, I know cause I had his _d_i_c_k_ in my hand most of that time. I was a blubbering mess and I needed to gather myself together for dinner.

Dad told me to stand up and he replaced the chair. He grabbed me and brought me to him giving me a bid Daddy hug. He was fair. His penis was sticking right out of the boxers. I was looking, but not, but yes, I started to get hard again. He ushered me back to his bedroom where he found some cream of Mom's to rub into my sore bottom. He told me to lay on the bed and he covered my bottom with the soothing salve. He then told me to get dressed and that nothing would be said further on the subject, as long as I kept my promise not to gamble again, unless I knew what the loss might mean to me.

Regretably I cannot remeber what we did with our hardons. I think they slowly disappeared as we got dressed. My bottom was very sore, sitting at the dinner table that night was qute difficult. My Dad maintained a smirk on his face the whole time. My Mom did find out, he told her everything. But at least I wasn't embarrassed in from of her and my sister. That time.

This story leads to another... I shall write it soon. It's about a different kind of gambling... for spankings!!! The one in front of my Mom and sister is for something completely different, maybe I'll write that one too.


More stories byJeffie