Mr. Right? He could be another Leonardo DiCaprio--youthful appearance, slender frame, blonde hair, blue eyes, and a soft, hairless, firmly rounded butt. He is rebellious, but willing and able to change with firm guidance. For the scenario, we will call him "Michael".
I am an officer in a detention facility, and Michael is under my supervision. He is just 18, but he already has five felonies. I am just about the only officer he respects as a little wiser than himself, and I guess that's why he has called me dad since we met. Generally, he is a well-behaved young man, but he obviously likes to break the rules.
Today I caught Michael smoking marijuana, and I am going to have to write him up. It won't be his first, but it will be the last one he receives at our facility. The Warden told him one more would get him shipped to higher security, where not-so-nice men will take advantage of him. I decided to call him in the office to say goodbye.
As he walks in and takes a seat, I hold up the familiar piece of paper, and say, "Michael, I had to write you up with the rest. You know what this means, don't you?"
"Dad...you can't. You know what the warden said."
"Yes, son, I do. Because I care, I intend to help you stop using--whatever the cost."
Michael pleaded, "There has to be some other way..." Half-laughing, he said, "What if I let you spank me?" Then he looked up and saw my eyes.
"Michael, first of all, you know that is not permitted. It simply isn't an option. Second, you've been smoking pot for a long time, one spanking isn't going to cure you. You are an adult, not a child. Third and finally, you must begin to accept adult consequences for your actions."
"Yes, but Dad," Michael argued, "I can give you signed permission, from one adult to another. You must know how much I love and respect you. I will submit to whatever form of correction you choose..." Interrupting, "No, you won't, Michael. You know the first time I ask you to do something embarrassing, or spank you in a manner that really hurts, you will back out."
Michael insisted, "No, dad, I won't. Nothing could be more embarrassing or painful than what those guys in higher security will do. I know I am not a kid. I expect the spanking will fit the crime."
Defeated, I say, "OK, Michael. You get one shot at this agreement. From now on, what I say is law. If you break any rules, the ones I give you, or the state's, you will agree to be spanked. I decide in what position, clothed or unclothed, with what, and for how long. It is expected you will squirm and cry-- such will serve to demonstrate your remorse. The only restrictions are that you may not squirm uncontrollably, and you must muffle your cries. Are you sure this is what you want?"
Surprised by my sudden onslaught, knowing he has no choice, defeated he agrees.
"Michael, meet me in the basement at midnight tonight, or tomorrow I will tell the warden everything. Come clad only in your boxers. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir...and, dad?"
"Yes."
"Even though I know tonight will hurt, I still love you."
Proudly, "See you, then."
****
Michael walks in the basement, right on time and in his boxers. He sees me sitting in the chair with a venetian-blind rod in my hands on my lap, and guesses correctly it is for our meeting. He is quiet, and so am I. I move the rod out of the way, tell him to approach the side of the chair, remove his boxers, and bend over my lap, quickly. He complies.
As I position Michael across my lap, I struggle to keep my composure and prevent him from feeling the swelling in my pants as all my senses are set on fire at the site and feel of his boyish frame and hairlessness. The silkiness of his skin. He is slender, but toned. Interrupting my thoughts, "Dad...aren't you going to begin?" With my hand, SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! Too many times to count. Michael is spanked hard, fast, and continuously. His butt slowly reddens and, then, he begins to break under the pain. Crying, "Daaaad, please, I'll stop using."
"I know you will, Michael. We are not finished, yet, but you may stand up now."
Michael stands, still naked, crying. I must have given him a couple hundred swats. His butt is beet red, bluing in some places, and he is shivering in tears. Then, I pick up the rod and stand up, motioning with the rod for him to bend over the chair. He throws his hands in protest, crying now more fiercely, "Dad, nooooo please. I have learned..." Then he sees the look that will become a trademark between us, and he knows it will be the rod, or some man's rod of a penus in higher security. Shivering with his cries, Michael bends over the chair, in the same way he had been across my lap a few moments earlier.
Michael's butt is really red and swollen, and he is still crying. He is quivering, in part, because of the pain, but also because his position across the chair is awkward. His hands touching the floor, his head hanging between his arms, his butt arched across the chair, pointing upward, but not quite touching the seat, his legs planted on the ground, together form a sort of triangle. His boyish submissiveness is exhilirating! It is a shame it takes this sort of discipline to bring out such fine inner beauty.
"Michael, this is where the rubber meets the road. You said you would submit even if I was to spank you in a manner that really hurt. This will really hurt, but remember your own words, nothing I will do will hurt as much as what those men in higher security will do if you are transferred." SWWWISSSH-SMACK!!! The rod cuts the air before it lands across his tender buttocks.
SWWWISSSH-SMACK!!! SWWWISSSH-SMACK!!! SWWWISSSH-SMACK!!! Fifty times in all. With each stroke, Michael squirms, throwing up his hands, crying. Never completely resisting, even when his butt begins to swell and split. I think he's had enough. "Stand up, Michael. Put on your boxers." Crying he complies.
"The next time the drug is tempting you, remember this moment. Remember the pain , and know I will do worse if there is a next time. Stay here until you've finished crying, then go to bed... I love you, son."
Through his cries, I hear him stutter, "I l-l-l-ove yo-o-o-u, too, D-a-aad."