Newsgroups: alt._s_e_x_.spanking From:crispenn@tawnycoll.win-uk.net(crispenn) Date: Sat, 12 Nov 1994 11:49:06 GMT Subject: STORY - DAVID'S DOWNFALL - M/M - CP Lines: 262
For a distance, in a crowd of his classmates, you would notice him in as much as his head was above all the others, but if the crowd dispersed you would instantly notice something that set him apart from the others.
David's father was an old-fashioned parent, who believed in all the old values. Despite the fact that it was 1968, and that his son went to one of the best Grammar schools in the area, he still insisted that David should not wear the standard school uniform, but should be attired as he had been when he was at school, in trim, smart grey worsted short trousers.
David felt so humiliated by having to wear trousers that only infant schoolboys wore. All his friends at school poked fun at him, and walking home from school, even little 8 to 10 year olds mocked him. He decided that he must find some way out of it.
He pleaded with his father to allow him to go into longs, but to no avail. His father would not change his mind.
One morning while David was doing his paper round, he had a brilliant idea. He would save up his round money, and when he had enough he would go to town and buy himself a pair of long school trousers. Yes, that was it.............
About two months later he had saved up enough money to be able to afford his long wished-for long trousers.
The following Monday morning he told his mother that he would be late home from school as he had athletics practice. All the way to school he could hardly wait for three-thirty, the end of the school day.
When home time came, he waited outside the school for the bus that would take him into town. The number 19 arrived, and he got on, aware of the looks he was getting from the other passengers. Never mind he thought to himself, not for much longer.
He got off the bus at the terminus and made his way to the big Department store. He had at first thought about going to the School Outfitters, but he was well known there and one of the assistants might just tell his father.
On arrival at the shop, he went straight to the boyswear department. Looking along the rack he saw what seemed to him a veritable Alladins' Cave of long, charcoal grey trousers. Now what was his size? Of course 27" waist.
He picked out a pair of his size and held them against his hip. No they would not do, they were far too long. He put them back and took out another pair. Just right.
He took them over to the changing room to make sure that they fitted. He quickly slipped off his short trousers and began to pull the longs on. He turned and looked in the mirror to see how he looked.
That was much better, he thought to himself as he twisted around, he didn't look half so silly in long trousers. He changed back again and went to the sales desk, paid for the trousers and left the shop.
On the bus home he took the longs out of the bag and rolled them up, stuffing them into his satchel. He would keep them in there, so that when he left for school each morning he could change as soon as he was out of sight of his house. There was an old lookout post in the field that he crossed each day to school that he could change in. Now perhaps the other boys at school would stop teasing him.
The next morning, and quite a few mornings afterwards, he left the house and made his way to the lookout post to slip out of his short trousers and into the longs. He felt so much happier now that he wasn't ribbed and ridiculed at school. He was even starting to make friends at last.
Just before half-term, a flu epidemic started. Over half of the Masters at the school had gone down with it, so one morning the Headmaster announced that school would finish at lunchtime. David was quite pleased, he could go home and finish off the new model aeroplane he had been given for his birthday.
At 12.30 the school turned out. As his parents would not be home, David didn't bother to change as usual, but went straight home. He let himself in by the back door, walked through the kitchen and started to climb the stairs to his room.
"David, is that you?"
David froze, transfixed. It was his father. He heard the door open and turned to see his father stood in the entrance to his study.
"What are you doing home?" his father asked.
"The Headmaster sent us home because a lot of the Masters are off ill with flu." David replied. He looked down, unable to look at his father.
"I think I have it too." said his father. "Come in here David, I want a word with you." David's father stood to one side, indicating the open door.
David slowly made his way back down the stairs and into the study. He heard the door close behind him, and his father walked round to stand directly in front of him.
"Have you got something to say to me, young man?" his father asked, his voice deathly quiet.
David said nothing. He looked down at his shoes and nervously fingered the hem of his blazer.
"Well, are you going to tell me why you are wearing those long trousers David?" his father inquired.
"I don't know daddy." mumbled David.
"I think you have disobeyed me, haven't you. Why?" David's father's voice was still soft, but there was a certain unmistakable edge to it.
"N.no daddy, it's just that.. well.. well all the boys at school wear longs and.. and they.. they made fun of me." David's voice faltered as he tried to explain his actions.
"So the boys at school are more important than my wishes, are they?" said David's father, as he moved over to the sofa and sat down.
"No daddy... but....." David's voice faded out.
"Come here." David's father indicated to the floor to the side of him.
David slowly walked over to his father.
"I am very distressed that you have disobeyed me David. I thought that I could trust you but it seems that I cannot, doesn't it?"
"No daddy" David agreed.
"Where are your short trousers David?" his father inquired.
"In my satchel daddy"
"I think you had better put them on, don't you?"
"Y.Yes daddy." David's voice answered, with just the hint of a sob, as he undid the straps of his satchel and took out his grey shorts. He unclipped the waistband of the long trousers, let them fall to his ankles and stepped out of them. He then slowly slipped into his short trousers and fastened them. Finally he stood upright again and faced his father.
"There, now that's better David. You have been a very naughty boy for disobeying me, haven't you?"
"Y.Yes daddy." mumbled David, his chin starting to quiver.
"And you know what happens when you are a naughty boy, don't you David?" his father continued.
David just nodded his head.
"Well then........" David's father sat there waiting.
David slowly leant forward and positioned himself across his father's knees, his head resting on the cushion of the sofa. He felt his body being lifted and his legs spread slightly into the correct position for a spanking.
"Now David, for making feeble excuses about your disobedience you will receive 20 spanks over your short trousers. For disobeying my wishes you will receive another 20 on your underpants, and for betraying my trust a further 20 on your bare bottom. Do you agree that is fair?"
David felt totally humiliated. Here he was thirteen and a half years old, and still having to submit to a form of punishment most boys had grown out of by the time they were ten. He had to admit though that he weight of his father's hand was still enough to make it an effective form of chastisement. He knew how silly he must look, a boy his age and size, still required to bend across his father's knee for a soundly smacked bottom.
He felt his father's hand brushing across the seat of his short trousers, in readiness for the swats he was about to receive. In accordance with his father's expectations, David knew that he was expected to count each slap. On the first smack he answered, "One daddy", and this continued until he had received the full twenty. To forget meant that the smack would be given again until he remembered what it was he was expected to do.
After the twentieth stroke, David's father gently lifted his son up to a standing position. David's eyes were already beginning to well with tears and his breathing was that of a boy desperately trying to hold them at bay. It wasn't just the pain of the spanking that had made him this way, but the fact that his father was being almost nice to him while doing so.
Ordinarily, when he had done something wrong, his father was quite angry, and that seemed to make it easier to accept the punishment. But this time David could almost feel the sense of disappointment his father felt. He knew that he had let his daddy down very much, and David felt more remorse for his actions than the pain of the spanking he was receiving.
Normally David would have been expected to lower his short trousers to his knees for stage two of his punishment, but on this occasion his father reached out to undo the snake belt around David's waist. He unclipped the waistband of his son's short trousers and undid the zip. Slowly he eased the grey short trousers down his son's thighs until they were positioned around the boys knees. He then gently restored David to his position across his lap.
Once again the same ritual was observed as David's father spanked the boy on the white cotton area delineated by the boy's underpants. By now David was sobbing openly, still trying to maintain the count expected of him, but faltering so much that he actually ended up receiving thirty-one strokes instead of the twenty originally awarded. For the final twenty David was not required to stand. His father merely slipped his hands inside his son's underpants and lifted him up, at the same time as sliding the pants down to join the short trousers lowered previously. David's bottom was a deep pink as it lay there exposed, and was about to become a deeper crimson colour.
For the first time in a long while, David's father was feeling genuinely sorry for his son's predicament. David wasn't a bad boy, in fact in many ways he was the most polite, thoughtful son a man could ever wish for. But he had broken the golden rule, he had been given an instruction and flagrantly disobeyed it.
The final twenty smacks were delivered too fast for David to count. His father was getting the ordeal over quickly as much for himself as his son. The two final stinging slaps were delivered across the back of David's thighs as a reminder before the now sobbing boy was quickly turned over and sat upright on his father's lap.
The tears streamed down the boy's face, and his father could bear it no longer. Feeling his own eyes start to water he pulled David to his chest and hugged the boy tightly, gently caressing the boy's short fair hair as he did so. The punishment was at last over, and so now the forgiving could begin............