Well, here it is. The first "official" chapter in the APPLE BUTT: AN AMERICAN TAIL. Why is "Uncle" misspelled, you might justly ask. Cuz I'm a _s_h_i_t_ty speller, that's why. Anyway, like some of these stories, this one is inspired by another MMSA Stories submission that really turned my crank...
***
Long before his nephew Tommy came and moved in with him, Rod White was a pretty permissive father with his son. Rod Jr. (or "Chip") had the run of the house, and when his mother (and Rod's wife) died, he became even tougher to handle. Then, one Christmas, things changed for the better B that was the year Rod and Chip met the strong hand of Michael Hogan.
Michael Hogan was a lumberjack most of his adult life. He was 6'2, 225 pounds of brawny muscle, broad shoulders, and powerful thighs. As Michael got older, he still worked out in the local gym to pass the time. And when Christmas rolled around each year, he would take jobs as a SANTA at local stores, clubs, orphanages, and jails.
When Michael Hogan was growing up, his dad was a very strict disciplinarian. That's what Michael attributes to his own tough nature that made a man out of him. Michael couldn't believe the new generation of parents that no longer believe in a good butt strappin' for a young lad to teach him discipline. This made him almost as mad at the parents as it did with the rebellious youngsters he saw all day at Christmas time.
These youngsters got sassier and sassier every Christmas. The more rebellious ones were very unthankful, both to their parents and to Santa. They'd just march up to Santa, climb boldly up on his lap, and start demanding this, that, and the other thing for Christmas. When Michael, in his bright red Santa suit, tall black boots, and curly white, and very fake, beard looked into their eyes, his own eyes twinkled, and he'd smile while he listened. But the reason he was smilin' was that he was picturing teaching the little brat a lesson or two right over his own, muscular knee!
Michael often filled in for security guards that were out sick, or on vacation over the holidays at the same time that he played Santa. On one particular, and very memorable day last Christmas, Michael was called into the security office as soon as he got off his Santa shift. Lo and behold, the tearful child that was caught shop lifting was none other than the 9 or 10 year old brat who had earlier sat on his Santa lap, and demanded stuff in a very nasty manner. And the kid was observed by Michael dragging his dad around by the hand, speaking very disrespectfully to his dad, and generally embarassing the poor father who looked very sheepish in front of the holiday crowd shopping around them.
When Michael walked into the office in his Santa gear, the kid sat sniffling and looking at the floor, while the father immediately stood to shake hands. Michael gripped his hand firmly, and locked his gaze with an austere stare.
"Ah, sir, my name is Rod. Rod White. And my son Chip. Chipper here was caught by the store monitor sneaking a toy gun out under his coat while he was walking right with me! I, I had no idea. Actually, since my wife died a few years back, I really haven't been able to control him. Please let me deal with him at home. This is his first offense."
Rod stood earnestly gazing at Santa, as Santa went to the security desk and took a seat. Rod seemed to be a sincere father, he just didn't know how the hell to raise a kid. Michael continued to hold his gaze. He was a good looking man, just under 6 feet, shiny black hair brushed back in a modern 'wet-head' look, nice tweed brown suit, and angular face. His dark eyes and soft-spoken and polite manner seemed very different from the sniffling, snotty brat sitting behind him. So this is Chip! Chip is going to learn a good lesson tonight, and so is Dad, Michael thought.
"Ah, Mr. White, Rod, our methods are obviously not working. You don't know raising a kid from a hole in the ground." Rod blushed as he continued, "But I believe in giving a kid another chance."
With a slight smile and visible relief, Rod thanked him, "Thank you, yes, I could use some help with Rod. What can I do?"
"Rod..., well this kind of thing is better 'caught' than 'taught', you know what I mean? So what I propose is to show you how a little old-fashioned discipline is meant to be applied." Rod looked doubtful. "Look, the store is closing and we'll be alone in here soon. Rather than give your young son there a police record, I propose we, that is, you and I, go over the proper way to apply some discipline to the old seat of the trousers. What do you say?"
Rod paused and looked back at Chipper, who looked up startled to hear the latest development in the conversation. "Well..., okay, maybe I've needed some help with this. All right sir, yes, I do believe I need to learn this myself. My dad never disciplined me, er, over the knee so to speak."
"And now's the time to learn before you go any further in raising a juvenile delinquent in the making! You don't want that, do you Rod?"
"No, no. Okay, you're right. What do we do?" Rod made up his mind.
"Daa...aaad no!" Chip jumped up and started running towards the door. Rod and Michael both headed him off, and Michael carried him back under one big arm, kicking and fussin up a blue streak!
"Let... me.... go! You big CHODE. Aaaahhh!" Chip could do nothing in Michael's powerful arms, but go along for the ride, ending up over the knee of one very big Santa.
Michael held him over his lap with one big arm across his back, little butt up in the air over Santa's knee. "Okay, Rod, let's get ready for your first lesson. I suggest you get a little more comfortable, and pitch in with this."
"Oh, er okay, right!", Rod started to get into this and quickly removed his coat and tie, and rolled up the sleeves to his dress shirt.
Michael's cool gaze held Dad's once more. "Take him by the ankles, and hold 'im steady, while Santa shows you how it's done. You don't give in one inch, but you apply the hand and paddle over the seat very firmly."
Rod grabbed both ankles and held firm, as Santa's hand, with the smooth-fitting white glove, came firmly across the seat of Chipper's wriggling butt.
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!! WHAP!
Michael firmly spanked the flannel seat for awhile with some effect.
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!!
Michael could feel the round, firm posterior heating up under his glove.
WHAP!! WHAP! WHAP!! WHAP!!
Finally, the glove came to rest across the flannel seat of the pants.
"Rod, as a dad, you've got to take a firm upper hand, and bring down a few pegs the strong and haughty temperament of the lad. The only way to do this is to soundly humiliate the lad by removing his clothes, and exposing him, that is, humiliating him into his proper station. In short, he must be humiliated into submission to turn away from his erring ways. Are you ready?"
Rod looked a little embarrassed as he noticed his son's tear-streaked face whip around and peer at him over his shoulder aghast. But Santa was already fumbling with Chipper's belt and snap. Then the zipper could be heard coming down. As Chip struggled across Santa's broad, raised knee, the little flannel trousers fell down over his behind, exposing the seat of his round, white cotton briefs. As Rod pulled off his shoes and flannel trousers down and over his feet, Michael grabbed his shirt tail and pulled his shirt up over his head and down his arms. Chip suddenly found himself stripped to his little jockeys over Santa's knee right in front of his Dad.
"Now Rod, please observe how the spanking progresses, the defenses are removed, and the young lad is brought into submission." Michael gave a wink toward Rod, who still held the lad's stocking'ed feet in his grip, while Santa's smooth gloved hand firmly spanked every inch of the wriggling, filled-out briefs.
SWAAAP! SWAAP! SWAAP! SWAAAP! SWAAAP!
The large hand covered both round little cheeks with each swat, which connected much better with nothing but the thin cotton briefs to interfere.
SWAAAP! SWAAAAAAAP!!! SWAAAP! SWAAAP!!
Chip sobbed more continually now, as he was soundly spanked over the knee.
SWAAP! SWAAAAP!! SWAAAAP!!!
His little round, cotton-white rump shone in contrast to the furry red Santa suit, and large black boots.
SWAAAP!! SWAAAP!! SWAAAP!!
Rod could see enough through the thin, white cotton briefs to see that the lad's nicely rounded cheeks were starting to glow a warm, pink through the material.
SWAAP!! SWAP!! SWAP!! SWAP!!
Also, as Chipper wriggled over Santa's knee, his jockeys rode up a little as he slid down, pulling the thin material up his crack, and exposing his reddening buns at the bottom of each cheek.
SWAP!! SWAAP! SWAAAP!!
Finally the time came for complete humiliation. As Michael tried to explain to Rod the next step, a totally naked and exposed condition while being soundly disciplined, he was disappointed to note that Rod was starting to balk. His anger started to return with the parents who ruin young lads by being so permissive and wishy-washy that they fail to discipline, and ruin their young lives.
"Look," Michael's stern gaze fell on Dad, as he switched his attention from son to father. "Maybe Chipper's real problem is Dad? Maybe you have been the blame for his condition all along? You admit that you've never experienced firm discipline for yourself?" Michael let up on Chip's back, and the sobbing lad slipped down off his lap.
The boy stood in his underwear, rubbing his stinging bottom while looking up at his flustered Dad being chewed out by Santa.
"Look, I did the best I could, I love this boy, and..."
Michael half stood and scowled down at Rod, who was shorter to start with, and seemed even shorter when Michael was seated on the high stool in the security office. "Unless you understand this for yourself, you won't appreciate its ability to change a young lad. You still need your own rebellious streak to be taken in hand! How old are you, 24?" Michael demanded.
Rod reddened and stupidly glanced from Santa to Chip. "Come 'on, I'm 32. I'm a grown man. Nothing will change..."
"Look, unless you have forgotten, I have the power to release Chipper from this offense without a police record, unless that doesn't matter to you." Rod's handsome face fell, and he looked down. "Alright!", Santa sat back up on the stool, "Let's continue with your lesson. As a Dad, I want you to experience the humiliation of being put over the knee, and brought under the pain that your own son will feel. Otherwise, you'll have no stomach to carry this out on your son. Agreed?"
Rod still didn't look at Michael, and didn't resist when Santa's powerful, white glove gripped his arm and pulled him toward his lap. To Chipper's delight, Michael pulled Rod up over his thick thighs, shifted up his right knee and balanced Rod so that he bent forward, butt in the air. Rod's trousers pulled tight across his rear, and Michael noticed a very round pair of buns that nicely filled out Rod's trousers. Michael's hand rested on firm, round seat of Rod's trousers while Rod's very red face looked back to where Chipper watched, half grinning.
"Chip, help Santa with your Daddy's ankles", Santa ordered. Chip, with a vengeful gleam in his eye, scurried to Rod's rear, and pulled off each of Rod's shiny, black dress shoes. Then he took each ankle in hand and pulled Rod's legs downward, stretching the tweed dress trousers even tighter across Rod's exposed rump.
But instead of using his hand, Michael took out a short, round, but very thick paddle and laid it across the seat of Rod's trousers.
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!! WHAP!
Rod struggled to grip Michael's very powerful leg with both hands....
WHAP! WHAP! WHAAAAP!
....and get more comfortable over the muscular thighs that dug painfully into his hips and abdomen.
WHAAAAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
Aside from the embarrassment of being paddled by another man, and in front of Chip, Rod was finding this humiliation strangely erotic.
WHAP! WHAAAAP! WHAP!
It didn't help to feel the powerful thigh muscles under him as he tried vainly to arrange his privates under him so that every powerful swat of the paddle didn't smash them so painfully against the massive thighs.
WHAAAP! WHAAAP! WHAAAP!
"Just so, like that!" Michael smirked at the humbled man submitting over his lap.
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!!
"Now, you can't expect to perform the full treatment on Chip, unless you also experience it yourself. I mean without clothes to hide behind!"
"NOOO!" Rod started to struggle in protest.
Santa reminded him, "And that's the only payment I will accept for Chipper's little infraction of the law today." Rod sank back over Santa's knee in defeat. "Like I was saying, no clothes to hide behind, or to hide your behind!!"
Michael was triumphant. Rod could only groan and submit. Devilish little Chip smirked in glee along with Santa.
Together with Michael, Rod was quickly undressed, and the shirt, trousers, and underwear disposed of. Rod was left upended over the huge red lap, and very exposed in the chilly office, with nothing but his black socks. Here's how it went:
Michael fumbled with the belt, unsnapped and unzipped Rod's trousers, and pulled them down from behind, bringing Rod's Christmas red boxers with the reindeer design into full view. As Chipper tugged the trousers down and off of both of Rod's feet, Santa pulled his shirt tail up his back and over his head until the dress shirt slipped inside out over Rod's head and under his chin.
As Rod tried to lie still without wriggling, but face flaming red, Michael pulled the shirt inside out down Rod's arms, until Rod had to helpfully pull each wrist gingerly through the buttoned cuff, so Santa could get each sleeve off over his hand. Tossing the shirt aside, Michael started to reach for the boxers.
"Let me!" Rod's son said, as he reached up on tiptoe, and pulled at the bottom of each leg, distending the boxers until Rod's round white, and slightly hairy cheeks were peeking out the top of the boxers, butt crack just barely showing.
Chip pulled and tugged, but the boxers held until Santa lifted Rod just enough to allow the front of the boxers to pull free from Santa's lap. The boxers suddenly snapped, and slipped the entire distance to Rod's knees, bringing the rest of Rod's nicely defined cheeks and thighs into view with one swoop.
"Oooof", Rod grunted and looked back, noticing that Chipper was contributing actively toward his humiliation. Rod shifted uncomfortable to hide his erection, but as Michael lifted his knee and reached to pull the back of Rod's tshirt up his back and over his head, Rod upended a little further forward, his legs parted wide, and the hairy, plump balls and thick, swollen shaft were exposed, stopping just short of the head of Rod's _d_i_c_k_. Chip giggled to see his Daddy like that from below.
"Now, since this has never been done before, and will likely be your last, you won't be able to sit comfortably for a week if Santa can help it!!"
CRAAACK! CRAAAACK!
"I..."
CRAAAACK!
"want you..."
CRAAAAACK!
" to learn..."
CRAAAACK!
"this well",
CRAAAAAAAAACK!
"Ouuuuuch! Houu-ouu-oouhhh!" to Chipper's great surprise, and delight, his Dad actually seemed on the edge of tears!
CRAAAACKK!
"Santa, please..."
CRAACK!!
"....no...." slhhff! slhfhfhf! Rod's sobbing started.
CRAAAACK! CRAAAACK!! CRAAAAACK!
"Good to see you're crying, Mr. White," Michael said. "Now that you've been warmed up, I can REALLY start with the punishment!"
WHAAAACK! WHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK! WHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!
Michael stepped up the intensity.
WHAAAAAACK! WHAAAAACKKK!!
Chip held tightly onto the warm, black sock on each foot, bracing his Dad for each painful swat over Santa's knee.
WHAACK!! WHAAAAACK! WHAAAACK!!!
Rod's huge, round butt cheeks, from down at Chipper's perspective, were turning bright crimson.
WHACK!! WHAAAACK!! WHAAAACK!!
He loved seeing how they sprang back from each swat and jiggled slightly, until the next mighty swat drove them forward.
WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!!
He was mesmerized by his Dad's firm, rounded buns, and the view up his crotch.
WHACK! WHACK!! WHAAAAAAAAACK!
He could have watched this all day.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!!!
Finally, Rod's lesson well learned, Michael slid him off his lap. Rod slid down to a crouched position, hiding himself, and trying to hold his very red and swollen butt with one hand or the other. At the same time, he half hobbled, half scurried to gather up his scattered clothing under Santa's watchful eye, and his son's amused look. Suddenly, Rod stood, holding his underwear in front of him.
"Now, let's finish with Chipper," Santa looked back at the suddenly frightened lad.
"What the....?" the kid said, realizing this was all a prelude to his very special spanking.
"Santa has a special ruler to finish the job!" Michael said, as Rod slipped up his boxers and came over to help.
Rod sat up on the stool, pulled Chip over his lap, and maneuvered the struggling lad into position. Michael groped for the waistband of Chip's jockeys, which were still the only thing on the boy, and quickly slipped them down and off.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," Chipper said, in a last ditch effort to get out of this.
SMACK! SMACK!!
The spanking had begun a new!
SMACK! SWACK!!
"Stowe it, son," Rod answered, as he held the helpless little guy still.
SMACK! SMACK!! SMACK!!
Santa applied the ruler to the little, bare bum, leaving bright, red stinging stripes across both little cheeks.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!!
No matter how loudly the little pip squeak howled, Rod stayed with it, and held him firmly in place, one hand on his waist, one on his upper back.
SMACK! SMACK! SMAAAAACK!
Chipper thrashed both feet, but Michael applied the ruler firmly and covered every part of his very sore bare cheeks.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!!
Finally, Rod held up his hand for Santa to stop. "Allow me, please" and Rod continued with his bare hand to firmly impress his newfound discipline on Chipster's exposed, wriggling red bum.
SLAP!! SLAP!! SLAP!! SLAP!! SLAP!
"OOOOoooooooh!" Chip screamed out in pain.
SLAP!! SLAP! SLAP!!
His cries did not influence Rod one way or another.
SLAP! SLAP!! SLAAAAP!!
He was just doing his fatherly duty.
SLAAAAP! SLAAAP! SLLAAAAAP!
And so, Chip and Rod both learned their lessons under Santa's seasoned discipline that Christmas. Rod continued to get plenty of practice on poor, little Chipper while at home. For the next year, however, he still occasionally brought Chipper by at closing time to get some additional pointers B sometimes even having to be reminded of the necessity of a young lad's humiliation only a few times more for himself!
As his young nephew (Tommy) would find out a few years later, Rod learned those lessons well. Rod became a true spanking devotee.